Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

it was no time to chicken out now.
    She rapped three times, and, after what seemed like an eternity, an old man in dirty britches and holding garden tools answered. “ Bueno ?” he said by way of greeting.
    “Ah yes,” she answered in crisp, clear Castilian. Eve was very proud of herself for being the first one in her class in Spanish Four. The fact that this had been in high school didn’t diminish the fact. “I was hoping to find Ms. Jessica Bloom at home.”
    He lowered his brow and stared at her. “ No existe. ”
    She didn’t exist? Oh my God! They had killed her! Eve frantically glanced around, wishing with all her might she’d asked the taxi driver to wait. Here she was, a million miles from nowhere, with the gardener from some maniac family holding murderous shears. She stared down at his hedge clippers, thinking she spied hints of dried blood. Maybe it was red Spanish clay. She wasn’t sure but certainly wasn’t ready to take the chance. Eve took two giant steps back, nearly stumbling down the stone stairs.
    The old man surveyed her cautiously, then began to close the door.
    “Pedrito!” a woman’s voice called from inside. “Who’s there?”
    The man stepped aside, his keen eye on Eve, almost like he believed her to be the dangerous party.
    “Hello,” the elegant middle-aged woman said. “I’m Ana María Garcia de la Vega. How may I help you?”
    “I’m Eve. Eve Parker,” she said, extending her hand.
    Ana María shook it, appearing vaguely uncomfortable with the gesture.
    “You come from America?”
    “In search of my friend, Jessica Bloom. Last I heard, she was here.”
    Ana María smiled pleasantly. “She’s a Garcia de la Vega now.”
    “So I heard,” Eve said, willing herself to remain calm.
    “And yes, she was here, but I’m afraid she’s not now. She and Fernando have gone to Seville.”
    “Thank God!” Eve cried, unable to stop herself. She cupped her hand to her mouth, recalling she was in a very Catholic country.
    Ana María shared a disapproving look. “They’ve gone there on holiday. Their honeymoon.”
    “Honeymoon?”
    “What else might one assume? They’ve only been married five days.”
    Eve hoped Ana María had it wrong. Surely she meant they’d gone there to get an annulment. But if Ana María didn’t know that, Eve decided she ought not to mention it. The concept of slaying the messenger was common to all lands, and there was a man holding sharp implements nearby.
    “Can you point me in the direction of Seville?” Eve smiled brightly and acted like she asked the question every day.
    Ana María studied her for a prolonged beat. “Are Jessica and Fernando expecting you?”
    “Jess is like a sister to me.” And then, thinking quickly, she added. “I want nothing more than to congratulate the happy couple. I come bearing a wedding gift!”
    As proof, she pulled two Iberia boarding passes from her purse and flashed them in Ana María’s direction, much too quickly for her to make out any details.
    “After all, why honeymoon in Seville when your very best friend on earth treats you to the romantic vacation of a lifetime in Paris?”
    Ana María’s expression softened. “Oh, how lovely. What a very good friend you must be.”
    “I only want what’s best for Jess,” Eve said, nodding solemnly. “For Jess and Fernando.”
    “Well, then, of course I’ll point you in the direction of Seville. Better than that, I’ll have my driver take you.”
    Eve’s chest constricted at the thought of being out on the desolate Iberian plains with the butcher of Seville.
    “Oh no, really. I wouldn’t trouble you—or him.”
    “It’s no trouble,” a gorgeous hunk said, stepping from around the corner. “Hello,” he said with dark sexy eyes and a knock-your-socks-off smile. “I’m Gustavo, and I’m free for the afternoon.”
    Eve swallowed her tongue and stopped herself from asking what he was doing tonight.
    “Gustavo is our darling Consuelo’s son, very reliable and an excellent driver.”
    “Well, if you insist,” Eve said, feeling as if she were turning the color of a very ripe plum.
    “Of course I insist,” Ana María said with a kind smile. “But first, dear, please do come in, refresh yourself a bit, and have a spot of tea.”

Chapter Ten

    “Wait! Pull over. I think that’s them,” Eve yelped, causing Gustavo to bring the elegant sedan to a halt on the busy boulevard. Other drivers honked and shouted insults.
    “Are you sure?”