His Glorified Maid

Twenty-Nine

Carlos stood over Dan, his hands clenched at his sides, as Dan rocked back in front of him. Dan wanted to hit him, wanted to lash out at him with more than words, as his nostrils flared.

"I trusted you to take care of her and you used her and discarded her the very next morning."

Carlos wasn't going to defend himself when he'd done nothing wrong. "You should have got off with her. You're fired," Carlos said blandly, without emotion. He turned his back on Dan, a calculated risk when the man was spitting fire.

"As if I would continue working for you," Dan spat at the man in anger.

"What have you done?" Jenny demanded of Carlos.  Lawrence slipped in behind her as Dan stormed out. "Tell me Sonja was lying when she said you fired Mike? Oh, Carlos," she said more softly this time, "What have you done?" She rocked back into Lawrence who gripped her shoulders tight.

Carlos didn't lift his eyes. It had taken more energy than he had to handle Dan's anger. The last thing he needed was Jenny and Lawrence's disappointment. He was not to blame.

"I trusted her, I more than trusted her," he acknowledged, "but she is just like her."

"Can you give us a moment, Jen?" Lawrence asked gently.

Jenny walked over to Carlos and kissed him on the top of his head. "You're an idiot, but I'll save that for later when you are steadier."

"I am the idiot," he muttered bitterly. The idiot who trusted his heart again to someone who was already taken. Veronica's final words taunted him again and again, 'You never get over your first love.'

When Michaela had waltzed into his room acting innocent, he'd wanted to give in to the denial trying to surface. The phone in his hands and the messages on there gave him the strength to fight with the righteousness of a man wronged.

With a wave of his hand, he stopped his brother from crossing to him. He could do without that look of pity, sympathy...annoyance?

"She could not be trusted." He let that simple truth sink in but didn't get the expected response in return.

"Michaela came to me yesterday. Paul asked her to look over his accounts as despite a strong season the Zephyr was struggling financially. She came across some 'creative' accounting and she wanted a second opinion before she sent through her findings."

Carlos felt a light explode behind his eyes. Michaela's face forced its way into his head. The one of her when she had stood before him only a short time beforehand when he had accused her of the unthinkable. She'd said if he had trusted her enough to ask, she could explain, but the last thing he'd wanted to listen to was her explanation for choosing Paul over him.

"Paul broke off his engagement with Simone. He called Michaela and texted her. I thought..." He couldn't finish the sentence. "I accused her of..." He couldn't finish that sentence either. Why did she let me believe the worst of her? No, this wasn't on her. He was the one that didn't give her a chance to explain. "What have I done?"

Lawrence touched a hand to his shoulder. "Maybe it was for the best," he said.

Carlos looked up to Lawrence for an explanation.

"I liked Michaela; I still do. But you must admit that she wasn't your usual type and things were moving too fast."

Carlos whirled on his brother, indignant and angry. "Since when is a smart, beautiful, kind woman, not my type?"

"I know you better than you know yourself. It was temporary, an infatuation. She was different and you felt yourself drawn in, but you can't build a foundation on different."

Carlos had this sudden urge to pick his brother up and throw him off the yacht. Instead, he brushed aside the hand resting on his shoulder. He couldn't respond, not now when he might say something that would destroy their relationship. He strode out of the room with a heaviness that weighed him down.

There was nowhere to go. He was on a bloody yacht, filled with people that weren't Michaela, in the middle of the ocean.

He didn't care what Lawrence said. Yes, she was different, and yes, it was those differences that drew him to her, but there was nothing temporary about his need for her. He would prove it. He would win her back. And Lawrence could choke on his words. Lawrence could...Carlos slumped down against the railing and drew in a fresh breath of air.

His brother was giving him the push he needed to fight for the woman he loved. Without it, he may have obstructed his own pathway to happiness while he wallowed in self-pity.

Lawrence found him on the deck and stood beside him with his gaze focused outwards instead of on him. "You ready to talk?"

Carlos trained his brooding grey eyes on his brother who returned his with a patience he didn't deserve. "You're a bastard."

Lawrence shrugged. "And I hear you're an asshole. We good?"

Carlos closed his eyes, smoothed out his breathing, and nodded his head. "I hurt her."

"She'll forgive you.

"I'm not sure I can forgive me."

"Fix this first and then give it a go."