Skygods (Hydraulic #2) (30 page)

“Oh, and Jorge Garcia got kicked in the balls by his two-year-old while pushing a grocery cart at The Garden Market,” said Molly. All three men winced as we walked up St. Vrain, weaving through dozens of Festivarian tents. “Rumor has it he’d just had a vasectomy because he and Mel are done popping out kids. I get that Jorge doesn’t want more children, but doesn’t it seem kind of crazy to have surgery? It was probably Mel’s idea.”

Samuel’s hand tightened around mine, and I noticed he’d locked his jaw. Dani saw it too and deftly steered the topic to safer areas. “I’m sure they have their reasons, Molly. Anyway, Jorge ended up rolling in the freezer aisle, his crotch covered in bags of frozen peas.”

“Then there’s the usual gossip about you two,” Angel said, earning another smack from Danita.

Samuel grimaced. “What now?”

“It’s probably the same old story about how I’ve been trying to get my hooks into you since junior high, how I love the attention,” I said.

“People still say that?”

“Samuel, I followed you to LA and ended up in tabloids. Of course they still say that.”

As we reentered the festival, I may have rubbed the gate post a la St. Peter’s toe, thanking the Planet Bluegrass deities for Samuel’s return. The sun was high and the baking earth was musty and sweet. We found a patch of shade not far from the stage and spread blankets, drinks, and burger baskets on the grass. While we waited for the next band, Samuel wrapped an arm around my waist and whispered into my ear.

“Does it bother you? The Lyons gossip?”

“Not gonna lie—I don’t like it. But we grew up with it, Sam. Between my parents’ turmoil, then our drama and your books, I got used to tuning it out. And it helps that I have Danita and Molly in my corner.” I nodded to our friends—Molly instructed Cassady and Angel where to place the second blanket, and Danita strong-armed another couple out of our land claim.

“I’ll miss all of you when we’re in New York.” I sighed.

Cassady pointed a french fry at me. “Likewise, little girl. Training for the Longs Peak climb isn’t the same without you pestering Luca Guzman to ‘quit hollering or we’ll get squashed by falling rocks.’”

Samuel stiffened into protective mode. I patted his hand. “We’ll be fine. Luca won’t cause a cliff to collapse on us.”

“Or snow.” Cassady was all seriousness. “Make sure you get in your ice and snow training sometime before the climb, for sure. November weather on Longs is notorious. I can do it, or you can find someone in New York—”

Samuel’s arms squeezed even tighter. “I thought you said this wasn’t a risky climb.”

“All climbs have some risk,” I answered. “But we’re prepared and know what we’re doing, trust me. The North Face approach is the best route in winter. Between the five of us, we’ll be fine.”

But he was still doubtful, and even Cassady’s assurances that he’d look out for Samuel’s “sweetie pie” didn’t calm him. “I don’t like this, Kaye.”

“It’s my risk to take,” I said, my voice quiet. He kissed my shoulder, but I knew he wasn’t conceding this battle.

By early evening, everyone save Samuel and me were off exploring craft tents. The singer currently on the main stage wasn’t promising for the benefit, and we were this close to ditching to stalk The Twiggies. Then Danita reappeared with a scowl for her brother.

“I need some girl time with Kaye.” She swatted the brim of his ball cap.

“I suppose ‘please’ isn’t in your vocabulary,” Samuel shot back. Siblings.

“I need half an hour,
please.
Go find music-y stuff.”

With a last grumble, he moseyed off to the Wildflower Pavilion. Danita placed a small package between us, wrapped in pretty pink paper and a bow.

“
Feliz Cumpleaños
. Don’t think because you’ll be in New York, you don’t get a gift.”

I smiled and tore into the paper. A jewelry box. Giddy, I opened the case. Out spilled a small silver bracelet with a single charm.

“It’s a locket,” Danita explained. I fingered the charm, trying to open it. She reached over and pressed a tiny latch, and the oval sprang open. On the inside was a very old picture of Danita, Angel, Samuel and me with our heads pressed together, bandanas around our necks, grinning like fiends despite missing some of our teeth. “Sam was also going to get you a bracelet for your birthday, but I told him I had dibs on jewelry. He was cranky about it.” She shrugged. “He owes me.”

“I remember this picture. It was taken on your old front steps, on my seventh birthday. It was during my cowgirl phase, so Sofia and my mother threw me a ‘hoedown’ party.” I grew sad over the memory. I’d loved the Cabrals with my whole heart, so naïvely. Snapping the locket shut, I carefully placed it back into the box and hugged Danita.

She tapped the box, meeting my eyes. “No matter what happens, you’ll always have these friendships. We’re worth keeping.”

“Thanks, Dani. It’s really thoughtful.”

Danita wrapped her arms around her knees, dark eyes drifting to the stage. “The Cabral family has issues, too, you know. Most people never see them, but we’re just as screwed up as the next household. I remember evenings when we’d have family fights about grades, or being out past curfew, or my dad’s long hours at the magazine. Then the next morning, it was as if it never happened—even if nothing had been resolved. Arguments were referred to as ‘little tiffs’ or ‘spats.’”

Little tiff…that sounded like Sofia, glossing over harsh words. “Samuel told me one thing he appreciates about my family is that Dad over-shares, and though Mom doesn’t say much, when she does, you know exactly what she means. I thought he was full of it, trying to make me feel better about my dysfunctional folks. But now, I get it.”

“A lot of the secrecy has to do with what went down in Boston when Samuel was little.”

“Did he tell you about your Aunt Rachel?”

“No, but I put the pieces together. I heard his nightmares when we were little. I saw him freak out over open windows. I know now my parents had him in therapy, but at the time, I thought
Papá
was taking him out for ice cream while I had to stay home with
Mamá
. I probably would’ve needed therapy myself to get over my sibling rivalry, if I hadn’t taken so much to that poor kid.” She shook her head, eyes in the distant past. “But yes, we like to play the perfect family and ignore the unsavory crap. Well, my parents and Samuel do. I’m the black sheep.”

I gnawed my thumbnail. “Did Alonso and Sofia put you up to this?”

“Since when have my parents been able to control me?” she scoffed, tugging my nail from my mouth. “I spoke to them last night and they mentioned the phone call—nothing specific, just that you’re upset. Believe me, I get where you’re coming from. I was so pissed at my parents and Samuel when I found out they’d hidden the bipolar disorder from me.” I realized Dani had been forced to push a lot of anger aside for the sake of her wedding—quite the position to be in. “I’m especially pissed they validated Samuel’s shame by hiding his health issues.”

“Samuel and I have worked through so much this summer. But Alonso and Sofia…I don’t even want to deal with them, right now. One Cabral at a time is my limit.”

Danita sighed. “I just don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to fix
mi familia
.”

“You can’t, and neither can Samuel. Danita…I appreciate your desire to help. But until your folks return from LaLa Land and realize the damage they’ve done, I can’t forget this. I don’t think our relationship will ever be the same.”

“Just remember, Samuel loves them.”

“I know, Dani.”

“And if you want something long term with him, you’ll have to deal with the folks eventually. Did Samuel talk to you about his vasectomy?”

Dani really just laid it out there, didn’t she? “What if he hadn’t?”

“Now you’d know. Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Danita, this really isn’t any of your business. But we did talk a little about the possibility of adoption down the road.”

“I can tell you right now, because of Samuel’s drug arrests, that’s going to be next to impossible, Kaye-bear,” she said, blunt as ever. “Sorry. Although, with his kind of money…”

“Danita. We are
not
buying a black-market baby.” I choked back disappointment, which surprised me. Baby options were starting to look slim, and suddenly I felt uncomfortable with it.

“I know it seems premature, but it’s stuff to think about.”

“That’s what Samuel told me.” Dani and her pragmatic brain.

As the sun sank beneath the mountains, the joints flared. Pretty soon, our blanket neighbors shared their spot of grass in more ways than one. I glanced at my watch, waiting for Samuel and the others to return so we could find a space that wouldn’t get us higher than a Dead concert. Somewhere behind us, “Janie’s Got a Gun” irritatingly mingled with bluegrass.

“For crying out loud, that’s the second time that annoying phone’s rung today.” Danita shot daggers at the young couple in front of us. “What kind of sick person chooses ‘Janie’s Got a Gun’ as their ringtone, then makes the rest of us listen to it?”

Crud! I’d forgotten to change it back. “Ahhh, that’d be me.”

Shock drifted over Dani’s face, and then she laughed. “
Ay,
Kaye, I can’t tell you how many things are wrong with that. Wow, I love you.”

My face flushed red as I answered my phone, and I just knew the Festivarians in our vicinity planned to bail before I could spout “daddy, you bastard, I’m through” and break a few fingers.

“Justin, hey.”

“Hey, honey. Sounds like a wild time.”

“Some West Coast band, we—”

“Listen, I don’t have much time to chat. You and your wunderkind need to hop on the next plane to New York.”

I upped the volume on my phone. “We’ll be there Monday night, Justin, I already told you. Our flight—”

He interrupted me again, his voice edgy. “Something huge is about to go down, and there’s gonna be carnage. Buitre is circling the wagons. You need to be here for a meeting ASAP. Jerome himself will be at the table, as well as Cabral’s business manager. Even Ace Caulfield is coming up from Boston.”

I sat up, catching Dani’s eye. “Wait, what’s going down? And who the heck is Ace Caulfield?”

“Archibald Caulfield, one of Sam’s lawyers—contract negotiator and secret keeper crackerjack. He’s worked closely with Caroline in the past, so we’ll need him for damage control.”

Caulfield
, as in Caulfield Law Firm? “Justin so help me, if you don’t tell me what’s happening, I’ll climb through this phone and shove your Buddy Holly glasses down your throat!” I clutched a handful of grass, mindlessly ripping it from the ground.

“Caroline Ortega’s gone rogue, Kaye.”

“What does that mean?” I pictured Caroline decked out in guerilla gear, belly crawling between cubicles.

“She’s broken from Buitre to start her own agency. Seven clients and two agents jumped ship with her. Apparently there’s an unauthorized biography about Cabral in the works that’ll make one of her authors the next Kitty Kelley, and she’s been negotiating with this poison pen prick since early June.”

I shook my head. “No, absolutely not true. Look, Caroline may be lethally ambitious and she won’t be crying ‘out damn’d spot’ any time soon, but you’re forgetting two things. One, she cares about Samuel. Two, she cares about her reputation. A move like this would
kill
both of those.”

“Sorry, but the move’s already been made. The poison pen’s name is Toccani…Targasi…”

“Togsender.”
No. No, no, no.
My voice went flat. “Lyle Togsender.”

“That’s it. If we move fast enough, we might be able to squelch the book before it hits the public.”

Togsy.
Caroline visited Togsy right after our bachelorette party. AKA, new author? I smacked my forehead, feeling utterly stupid for letting my guard down. “I should have seen this coming. I knew she was a freaking Svengali, but she just sucked me right in, anyway.”

“We all got suckered, honey.”

Vindictive cow. Jaime and Molly warned me not to trust her. After everything that happened in LA, I’d truly believed she wanted the best for Samuel, in her own misguided way. But this…this would devastate him.

“Can’t we get an injunction? When does it hit the shelves?” I slapped the ground and pain shot through my middle finger. “Mother cliff-hucker!” I cried, shaking out my hand, certain I’d sprained my knuckle. Several people turned to check out the commotion—oh heck, I actually
was
breaking fingers. I lowered my voice to a hiss. “She signed a nondisclosure agreement! She has to know we’ll sue her for every dime and then some. It’ll ruin her career.”

“Or make her career, if she pulls it off. That’s the kicker.
She
signed a nondisclosure agreement, but Lyle Togsender can write whatever the hell he wants, as long as there’s a smidge of truth to what he writes. And from what I understand, he’s got insider info on Cabral and Caroline’s just helping him dot his i’s and cross his t’s. Word is she can back up all of Togsender’s claims with documentation and affidavits.”