AFTER trying to sell an idea for ten minutes straight most people would have given up. Dan Taylor wasnât one of them. Some people said that what he lacked in flair he made up for in determination. They were essentially correct.
Santiago Morais, who was considered to have more than his fair share of flair, listened to the younger man explain again why it wasnât just necessary for Santiago to make up the numbers this weekend, it was his duty.
âNo.â
The âNoâ wasnât the sort of no that could be confused with maybe, and it wasnât encouraging that the enigmatic expression on Santiagoâs lean features had given way to mild irritation.
Actually Dan was a little taken aback by Santiagoâs lack of co-operation. He was showing the sort of stony indifference that Dan had expected five years earlier when he had turned up at the London offices of Morais International. The only thing heâd had going for him then had been a tenuousâvery tenuousâfamily link with the Morais family.
He had expected to be thrown out on his ear. Getting to see the man himself had been just as hard as he had expected. When they had come face to face, his resolve had almost deserted him. Santiago was younger than he had expected and much, much tougher.
Faced with a dark, cynical and very chilly stare Dan had instinctively dumped his carefully prepared speech and said instead, âLook, thereâs absolutely no reason you should give me a job just because some great-aunt of mine married some distant uncle of your motherâs. Iâm not qualifiedâin fact Iâve never finished anything I started in my lifeâbut if you gave me a chance you wouldnât regret it. Iâd give it all I had and then some. I have something to prove.â
âYou have something to prove?â The voice, deep and barely accented, made Dan jump.
âIâm not a loser.â
The figure behind the desk got to his feet and became correspondingly more intimidating; this man was seriously tall and was built like an Olympic rower. For a long uncomfortable moment Santiago just looked at Dan in silence, those spookily penetrating eyes not giving a clue to what he was thinking.
âRight, sorry to have bothered youâ¦â
âEight-thirty Monday.â
Danâs jaw dropped as he swung back. âWhat did you say?â
One of Santiagoâs dark brows lifted. âIf you want a job, be here Monday morning at eight-thirty.â
Dan sank into the nearest chair. âYou wonât regret this,â he vowed.
Dan had come good on his promise. He had quickly proved his worth and, perhaps more surprisingly, a friendship had developed between the two men. A friendship that had survived Dan leaving the company and setting up on his own two years earlier.
Dan adopted an injured expression as he looked across at his Spanish distant cousin, who had put down a file heâd been reading to say something in his native tongue into a Dictaphone. Actually it could have been one of several languages; Santiago was fluent in five.
âI must say I think youâre being pretty callous about this.â
âIf by callous you mean I will not spend a weekend amusing a fat, boring and mentally unstable womanâIâm quoting you hereâso that you can have your Rebecca to yourselfâ¦I am indeed callous.â
âRachel, and the friend isnât mentally unstable exactly. I think sheâs just having a breakdown or something.â
âYouâre really tempting me now, but the answer is still no, Daniel.â
âIf youâd met Rachel you wouldnât be so heartless.â
âAnd is your Rachel beautiful?â
âVery, and donât look at me like that. This isnât some casual affair. Sheâs the one; I just know she is.â His expression grew indignant when Santiago responded to his emotional admission with a cynical smile that was only slightly less corrosive than neat nitric acid. âIâd have thought youâd have been more sympathetic consideringâ¦â Dan continued falteringly.
Santiago abandoned his attempt to carry on working and pushed his thick sable hair back from his brow. âConsidering what?â
âArenât you getting married?â
âAt some point I imagine it will be necessary.â The exquisite irony of him continuing the precious Morais family name was not lost on him.
âYou know what I mean. Arenât you marrying that hot little singer who I keep seeing you photographed with.â
âThat hot little singer has an agent with a vivid imagination. Susie is not in love with me.â
Danâs expression grew curious. âSo itâs justâ¦â
âNone of your business.â
âFair enough, but I still think youâre being totally unreasonable. Iâm asking you to spend a weekend in a cute cottage, not donate bone marrow! Lookâ¦look,â he said, reaching into his pocket and extracting a photo. âIsnât she gorgeous? And, as for her being older, I like older womenâ¦â he added defensively as he shoved the photo under Santiagoâs nose.