“Aren’t you glad Tio Antonio rescued you when he did?” Nico grinned, but she knew he was trying to bait her into admitting that she was better off now than with the cartel. The verdict was still out on that one.
“Your hero worship is disturbing,” she said dryly.
“We’re good people,” he insisted.
“Nico, stop teasing Dr. Bennett,” Antonio said from the head of the table. “She’ll think I put you up to it and that’ll be another mark against me.”
“Didn’t you?” Charly sassed.
“No.” Antonio stared at her steadily. “I don’t need anyone to fight my battles.” He looked pointedly at Renata.
“Are we at war, Mr. Andrade?” Charly pressed.
He picked up his goblet of wine and raised it to her. “You tell me.”
“Antonio,” Renata cut in, tapping at her iPad. “We need to finish this presentation to the board.”
“Put that away, Renata, dinner is about to be served.” Ida strode in carrying a tureen, while Oscar followed her with an enormous platter of appetizers.
“You heard the comandante.” Luis leaned back against his chair and craned his neck at the bowl Ida lowered in front of Antonio. He stood and rolled up his sleeves, revealing thick forearms and tattoos.
“Mãe rules the house.” Nico picked up a yellow ball from the basket and popped it in his mouth.
“I love pão de queijo.” Or as Charly fondly called them cheese balls. They were made of tapioca flour and cheese. Frequently served as an appetizer in all-you-can-eat Brazilian steakhouses because they expand in your stomach and then made you eat less.
Still, Charly was addicted to them. It took her two bites to finish one, and she reached for another.
Antonio was ladling soup for everyone.
“A tradition that Tio does,” Nico explained. “He likes taking responsibility for caring for his people.”
“Serve Dr. Bennett first,” Antonio instructed. “Doctor, you’ve never tried lobster bisque until you’ve tasted Ida’s.”
“But I’m not one of his people,” she whispered to Nico.
“Lady,” Nico laughed. “You are now.”
The bowls were passed and one whiff from the soup and Charly forgot about her predicament about helping them. She scooped the thick broth into her mouth and wow, its briny, creamy goodness was like velvet on her tongue.
“Did she just catch the lobster before dinner?” Charly commented.
“Not exactly.” It was Ida who answered, taking her seat at the table alongside Oscar. “I go to the market almost every day. Sometimes if I’m too busy supervising the maintenance crew at the estate, I have a fishmonger I trust to give me the freshest catch of the day. Someone picks it up for me.”
“We limit deliveries as much as possible to the estate,” Nico said.
“There are expensive art pieces in the hallway,” Charly agreed.
“It has nothing to do with art,” Luis said.
Charly finished her soup and set the spoon aside. “If everyone insists on speaking in riddles, how can I accept this job?”
“You’re still under the impression you have a choice?” Ida’s son laughed.
“Nico,” his mother chided. The house staff came into the dining room and cleared the dishes while another lowered platters of roasted meat.
Her son merely gave an enigmatic smile while Charly felt eyes on her from the other end of the table. She casually turned her head to look at Antonio.
From where she was seated, his expression remained bland, and it was hard to tell if he was smirking, but his eyes were riveted on her. Charly could have kicked herself for looking away from the challenge in his gaze.
“Anyway, you should try Oscar’s oven picanha.” Nico changed the subject.
“Oh, I’ve had this at Brazilian steakhouses before.”
“Did you know Oscar is gaucho? He’s from Rio Grande do Sul.”
Charly looked at the man in question. “A Brazilian cowboy, huh?”
“Sim, senhorita.” Oscar tipped an imaginary hat. “You’re not vegetarian?”
She laughed. “No.”
“You look like you need to gain some weight.” Antonio handed a platter of meat to Renata but tipped his chin to Charly. Renata looked at her and rolled her eyes but handed her the dish of picanha.
“What’s your obsession with what I eat?” Though the rebel in her wanted to pass over the serving dish to Nico without partaking, she wasn’t about to deny herself the succulent roasted beef. The aroma alone had her mouthwatering.
“He’s like that with everyone,” Ida said. “No need to feel special.”
“Ouch, Mãe,” Nico said. “Dr. Bennett is not used to your bluntness.”
Renata leaned into her. “Or rudeness.”
Keeping track of everyone’s quirky personality was giving her a headache. She focused on the large platter and slid a couple of pieces on her plate. “No harm. I haven’t felt special for a long time. I just have an exploitable skill.”
Luis started chuckling. “I think you’ll fit right in.”
Short of sounding like a broken record, Charly didn’t say anything and let her silence communicate that she hadn’t yet agreed to help them.
Did she really have a choice given that she had no way of returning to the States? But her stubborn streak prevented her from capitulating immediately. She thought about the ways Carillo tried to break her down. There was one time he slapped her so hard she thought he’d broken her jaw. But even with that, Charly had been through worse, and she didn’t mean just physically.
When a physical wound was inflicted by someone who was supposed to love you, the emotional scars had a way of burying themselves deep long after the physical ones faded.
The hand holding the steak knife shook and she stilled herself against that troubling memory. She had to focus on how to handle the people currently around her.
Although Antonio seemed genuinely outraged when she told him about Carillo’s abuse, she shouldn’t immediately assume he was the better person. Besides, he could be a good actor. He seemed to switch from intimidating asshole to charismatic businessman at a drop of a hat.
There was more danger in that.
After dinner and when coffee was served with dessert, Antonio took Ida aside. Judging from the shifting emotions on the woman’s face as her
