Around the World in 80 Men Series: Books 11-20 (85 page)

Morgan
nearly choked on her tea. “That's exactly what he told me when
I asked! So, he wanted a dog all his life...but then...decides he
doesn't?” It didn't make sense at all.

“Well,
that's why we got him the dog,” Tomas admitted.

“We?”

“Evita
and I. A few months after Diego's father died, we saw he was going
through a hard time. He hardly laughed anymore, he was always gone
and when he was home, he was angry. He had never cared about the time
of dinner before, but then suddenly, Evita was getting threatened
with losing her job for not having dinner ready at five sharp. That
terribly controlling phase didn't last long, thank goodness, but we
thought a dog might help calm him down a bit. I told Evita he loved
Shepherds and one day when she was out shopping, she saw a sign about
a litter. The next day, she and I picked it up, but...”

“He
wanted nothing to do with it,” she finished for him. Morgan
couldn't fault the man. He was going through a rough time and as far
as he knew, Evita had just brought the dog into his home without
permission. Morgan wondered if it really had anything to do with the
dog and not just the part of him that wanted to have control over his
own life. Perhaps Evita and Tomas should have talked to him about it,
but she felt bad for all three of them.

“And
maybe now you understand what I mean. He's lost touch with who he
used to be,” Tomas repeated himself. Morgan nodded slowly,
still not thoroughly understanding, then again, she realized in that
moment, she wasn't like most people. She'd met a lot of people
throughout her life who had lost their parents and changed. Not
always for the better, but they changed.
Maybe I'm the one who has
something wrong with me. “
You seem like a great woman,
Morgan. I hope, if anything, you'll be able to show him that life can
still be fun. Remind him to.... dance.”

Morgan
looked down at her glass. The last time she had tried to help someone
have fun, they had sent her away. She also didn't deserve being
called
great
by the man since she'd acted like an ass in front
of when they met at the airport. The guilt of running away from
Diego, and Tomas, mixed with hearing all of Diego's dirty laundry,
had made Morgan fess up to why she had behaved so badly.

“I'm
sorry.. for acting the way that I did.” When he nodded, she
continued with the story of her time in Portugal, and how everything
in the area they'd first arrived to reminded her of Carlos. He
listened to everything she said, and tried to hold back with his
opinion of the man that had hurt her. Obviously, she had moved on
from the pain of it all, but she was intelligent enough to have
learned from the whole experience.

“You
did the right thing, Morgan. You protected yourself first, but were
mature enough to listen when you were safe. Like I said, you seem
like a great woman.” The man nodded and smiled, ending the
debate on her
greatness
, and Morgan had to laugh in return.
Tomas was turning out to be a lot of fun, and she looked forward to
spending the afternoon with him. She also had a new fondness for
Diego, and wondered how she would convince him to be the man that he
was, and is supposed to be, rather than protecting himself and
taking on his dead father's personality.
Always trying to save
the world, huh Morgan?

Lunch
had finally ended, and Tomas walked Morgan back to the car and opened
the back door for her. “Nope, I'm riding up front with you.”
Just as he was about to argue, Morgan ran around the car and jumped
into the passenger side. “Let's go!” She was still
laughing as Tomas got in, as the man knew he had been defeated.

“Just
don't tell Diego, huh?” She nodded, and they left the
restaurant as two old friends on an afternoon trip to town.

Chapter
Five

“
Tango
lessons?” Morgan stood in front of the building, reading the
large sign in the front that boldly announced what service was
offered inside. “I don't know.... I mean, I like to dance...
but I don't think I'm coordinated enough for the Tango.” She
worked her bottom lip over as she thought about it, but Tomas put his
hand at her back and walked her through the door.

“Visitors
come from all over the world to take lessons here.” He spoke
briefly to a thin man in a colorful costume, then handed him a credit
card. No doubt, her lessons were on Diego. He joined her again, and
said that he would wait in the lobby.

The
lobby turned out to be a lovely room that was separated from the
dance floor by a wall of glass. The room was filled with people who
weren't taking lessons, but had stuck around to watch anyone brave
enough to do so. “This is comfortable. Not.” She
smiled weakly at the instructor, and then looked back to Tomas. He
waved and smiled widely, the amusement was more than evident as he
waited for her instructions to begin. There were still five minutes
before the lesson began so a quick message to her friend was in
order.

When
she opened up her phone, she saw there was already one waiting.
Driver boy better be treating you right or I might have to call
him too.
Even though nothing about him calling Finlay was funny,
she still laughed at his ability to make a joke out of it. She typed
out her message quickly,
He brought me to tango lessons, you
better call him.
Morgan looked at Tomas, then turned quickly so
he wouldn't see her wide smile. The thought of Tomas and Angel having
a talk was quite entertaining. There was another message for her. The
one she'd forgotten to read after her bath. Just as she was about to
click it though, her name was called and she stuffed her phone back
into her pocket.

As
soon as the first of the steps had been given, Morgan was confused.
“Okay, you're going with the left foot, this way...” She
did the motion herself as if she were the man, then turned around and
moved in her part. “And I go this way...with my...right foot?”
The instructor nodded, still smiling and Tomas whistled from his
chair. After half an hour, Morgan began to finally grasp the
movements. When they'd began, she was embarrassed at the fact she
couldn't seem to remember her left side from her right. They'd say
right foot back, she'd move her left forward, but eventually, it all
started making sense. It was the most difficult dance she'd ever
attempted to do, but once she felt comfortable and began to move with
the music, she loved it. The way she was supposed to move her hips
and get into the beat, it made her feel nothing less than sexy.

After
another half an hour, and the last dance of the lesson, Morgan felt
like she had a great grasp on it. “I did it! I tangoed!”
She ran over to Tomas' side and sat down, trying to catch her breath.

“You
did wonderful!” He gave her a short round of applause and they
both laughed.

“Really?
It looked alright?” She placed his hand on her shoulder, still
giggling. The girl with absolutely no coordination could tango.

“Absolutely.”
He stood and looked at his watch. “Well, what do you say we get
back to the house? Evita is supposed to be cooking up her...”

Evita,
eh?
Morgan didn't even hear whatever is was the woman was cooking
up. The way he'd smiled when mentioning the woman's name was enough
to tell Morgan all she needed to know.
I think Tomas has a little
crush.
“Yeah, that sounds great,” Morgan nodded. She
regretted not hearing the dinner choice before stating it was great
and hoped she wasn't in for something awful.

Their
ride back to the home was enjoyable and Morgan got to learn about
Tomas, rather than her client. Morgan congratulated herself silently
when he'd told her his fiftieth birthday had recently passed. He'd
also told her a bit more about working with the Torres family, but
mostly the good parts. There were even a few stories about the young
Diego that nearly had her in tears of laughter. Stories that reminded
her of things Coal-ton or Kyle might do. It was then that she
realized he really did used to be a lot of fun and she'd love to see
that side of him.
At least he
used
to be fun,
Morgan
thought. It was better than men like Kai who had probably never had
fun in their lives. Her mission would be a bit different. Trying to
force someone to have fun wasn't the same as trying to get them to
remember who they once were. It was still a difficult challenge,
either way she looked at it.

“I've
seen him through nearly every stage of his life. He's a good man,
very good. I just want to see him happy again,” Tomas spoke as
they pulled in front of the house.

Morgan
gave him a playful salute and said she'd do her best. He laughed and
climbed out of his side, then opened her door. When they entered the
home, Morgan was overpowered by the wonderful scent that could only
belong to chicken. She was right, as she went toward the source of
the delicious aroma and saw Evita basting the large bird in the oven.
Morgan also caught the smile and sparkle in Tomas' eyes when he
exchanged Spanish words with Evita., something about dinner, and
Evita playfully pushed him out of the kitchen when he tried to stick
his finger in the mashed potatoes. It was the first time she'd seen
the woman smile.
I knew it!

Morgan
left the kitchen to give the two a few stolen moments with Diego
still gone, plus she needed to change since her Tango lessons had
left her with more than a lady glow on her cheeks.

“You
again?” The dog seemed to be waiting for her, on Diego's bed,
when she walked into the room. Morgan immediately turned her head
back into the hallway and shouted that the dog was upstairs again.
She knew that Evita would never understand her, but hopefully Tomas
would translate. “You're on your own, cutie pie.” She
dug around her bag for another pair of jeans, and her pink button
down sweater. “I know, it's a little bright for the middle of
winter, but I like it.” She giggled at the dog before giving
him a quick rub to the head, then disappeared into the bathroom for a
quick shower, leaving the handsome dog to be ushered out by Tomas or
Evita.

Morgan
washed quickly, leaving her hair dry and to the straightened state
that she had put it in that morning, and was back downstairs before
Evita had dinner on the table. Diego was still missing, and she
asked the busy housekeeper if they could expect him soon. Of course,
Evita just looked at her, then turned away without speaking a word.
“Okay... uh, cuando... Diego... casa?” She was certain
that she slaughtered the language, but hopefully the woman could
figure out what Morgan had asked. Evita put her hand up to cover her
own smile, then answered without turning around.

“No.”
Morgan looked at the back of Evita's head, staring at the mass of
black curls that were piled high.

“No....
no to dinner? No to Diego?”

“El
no viene a casa esta noche.” Evita started to plate the dinner
on serving platters as she spoke. Morgan's brows came together as
she gave the words a little more thought.

“No..
house...noche? Noche... noche...,”

“Night.
Esta Nocha.... this night, or as you would say, tonight.”
Tomas joined the women right then, and put Morgan out of her language
misery.

“Oh!
He won't be home tonight! Thanks, Tommy!”
Tommy
grimaced at the new nickname, which managed to get etched in stone
for Morgan. She knew she was childish, but when someone didn't care
for what she called them, she did it even more. “Wait? He
won't?” Morgan never expected a client to keep her informed of
his every move, but she had grown used to the men letting her know
when they would and would not be at the house.

Again,
she pulled out her phone to text Angel.
Diego is going to
be gone for the whole night. I think he needs a phone call too!
She
pressed send and set her phone on the table. Angel made her feel
better and since her client wasn't around, she had no reason to be
guilty about using her phone. His message came though like lighting.
She picked her phone back up and almost dropped when she read his
message.
Can't talk. Panties....Still.....Twisted.
Morgan
put her hand over her mouth to stifle the loud bout of laughter that
would be released if she didn't. Explaining who Gio was and why she
was laughing...well, it just wouldn't make sense.

Tomas
joined her at the table and Morgan noticed the quick smile exchanged
between the two employees. She put her head down and fiddled with
the silverware on the table.