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The last six months had changed Casildo’s calculations. When Nick Richardson had tried to financially kneecap Cas’s father and Hunter, the ripples had spilled over to Anna and Hunter’s relationship. The people Cas loved were under attack, so he’d handed over his savings to his father.

But, in the middle of that mess, he’d had an epiphany. After losing his business partner Mo, then Monique’s betrayal, his momentum had started to slow. He’d lost sight of his dreams. He was increasingly successful with his current employer, so his family—his father—might have decided he’d abandoned his plans for a textile design business.

His family also regarded him as the one Hariri child who lacked a head for business, so he’d vowed that when his father was able to return his savings, Cas would establish his business on his terms. He didn’t want to jinx himself before the money hit his bank account, so was keeping his plans to himself. He was assembling information—locations, venues, fabric printer suppliers etc. Only when he’d signed contracts and it was a done deal would he announce it to his family.

Beatriz had known about his secret passion and never raised it with him; called his work a treasured possession. Said his design was stunning.

She wasn’t about to blab it to the world. He’d been selling designs for years, so was used to praise, but her instinctive support for his art produced a little buzz around the region of his heart. He could imagine her wrapped in a swath of his fabric. Unravelling her would be a delicious gift.

The flip side of Saturday’s conversation was that Beatriz had agreed to this meet-up in the café. He got a kick out of being the only person aware that the oh-so-well-behaved Beatriz Gomez was planning more rebellion. Ironic that he wanted to help her with that, when he hated confrontations himself.

He spotted the café further down the block.

She’d wrangled a table in the window, so they’d be visible to passers-by plus any colleagues inside the shop. Smithers must have been a real pain in the proverbial this morning. Cas liked her new commitment to mutiny. He pushed through the door and paused. A deliberate second or two—he knew exactly where Beatriz was, but wanted others to notice his arrival. She raised a hand in welcome, and Cas strolled over.

“Hey, Beatriz. Thanks for coming.” Impossible to read a specific meaning into that greeting. He touched her shoulder lightly, before taking a seat beside her.

“Did you take acting classes?”

“Binged on Bollywood movies in my teens. Did I overdo the pause in the doorway?”

She signalled a waitress. “I’d say you achieved your goal?”

“How was Jackson this morning?”

“Particularly barbaric. I like that”—a mischievous smile curved her mouth—“it’s like having a special code. What are you having?”

“Fun.” He laughed, then turned to the waitress. “A short black please.”

“My usual,” Beatriz said.

The waitress keyed in the order and moved to the next table. “What’s your usual?”

“A flat white coffee, extra hot.”

“Okay, I need more background. Why’d you want the job Smithers got?” While pretending to study at Hunter’s apartment yesterday, Cas had considered her motivations. A promotion brought a pay rise, but he doubted money was her only objective.

Five years, Cas. She’s never chased money, never cosied up to wealthy clients.

It’s why I don’t want to step back, when I have with every other woman I’ve met in recent years. Why I want to help her. Just help her.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“You’re never obvious, Beatriz.”

Slight colour crept up her cheeks. She needed to hear more compliments.

She wore simple black today, a long-sleeved cotton tee topping wide-legged linen pants. But she’d donned a waistcoat he hadn’t seen before and guessed was of Thai design, hand-made in jewel colours that delighted the eye. She often wore the silver necklace; the interlocked links created a jigsaw effect. She was quietly stunning.

“It wasn’t just the money,” she answered.

The waitress served their coffees.

“Thanks, Dolly,” said Bea.

“Thank you.” Cas smiled.

“My pleasure.” Dolly hovered awkwardly near the table until someone called her.