Page 120 of Cartel Rose (Jorge)

“I can agree to that, Jorge. I’m certain there will be times when I need help. It’s good to know I have somewhere to turn.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Liesel

It’s been a long-ass day, but we’re finally in New York. Jorge and I spent a long time outside this morning, sitting on the swing, even after that heavy-ass conversation we had. I’m relieved we did since I feel like I’ve truly made an informed decision about coming here with him and not wondering if I just did it out of necessity.

Saying goodbye to my family was gut wrenching, and there were tears streaming down all our cheeks. But in the end, we parted with smiles and well wishes. I dozed a bit on the flight, but I tried not to sleep too much. I’ve learned the best way to fight jet lag is to not sleep on the flights in either direction. I do my best to stay awake until a reasonable time at my destination, go to bed, crash hard, sleep eight to ten hours, then wake up at a normal morning time and get on the local clocks. It’s worked well for me in the past.

It was tempting to actually sleep since the jet had a private cabin with a bed. It also tempted Jorge and me to do far more than him leaving me to rest. Perhaps if it had only been his brother and cousin there, we might have. But a few of the guardswere on the flight too. We were both too embarrassed to do more where they could overhear us.

“Chiquita, I’d like to show you something if you’re up to it.”

“What is it, Daddy?”

“It’s a surprise. It’s here in the building.”

“Okay.”

We’ve just gotten to his penthouse and dropped off the luggage. We head back into the hallway to a flight of stairs. I can already see they start and end on this floor. His condo is the only penthouse. We climb up to the roof, and he opens a door leading directly into a greenhouse. The air isn’t stifling like you might expect.

What lies before my eyes is absolutely breathtaking. There’s an array of flowers unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s almost like a miniature Amazon, but there are also roses and tulips, and other flowers you wouldn’t find there. When I look to the left and peer down one of the rows of flowers, I spy a vegetable garden.

Jorge intertwines his fingers with mine and leads me to the right. The scents are almost overwhelming. It’s as though I’ve stepped into a perfumery like the ones I’ve been to in the south of France. I marvel at everything I see.

“Jorge, do you grow all of this? Do you have two green thumbs?”

“I do. I find botany relaxing. Some people might watch fish to lower their blood pressure, but being among my plants has that effect on me.”

“How did you discover that?”

His expression takes on a faraway look I’ve come to recognize whenever he talks about his father.

“Papáhad a garden in the backyard where he’d grow vegetables for us. It was pretty much everything we could possibly need, but he had a smaller area where he grew lavender forMamá. I used to love digging in the dirt and finding wormswe could use whenPapátook my brothers and me fishing. There was something about the feel of the cool soil between my fingers, and I loved how happy it madeMamáwhenever she went out to the garden afterPapádied. I did my best to take care of it.”

“Weren’t you only eight or nine?”

He nods but doesn’t answer. As I watch him, his Adam’s apple bobs. I think he might be too choked up right now to answer me. Instead, he leads us down a path to the left. We wind through a patch of sunflowers that are almost as tall as I am. They come up to mid-chest on me. In the center of the greenhouse is a fountain.

I hear the water bubbling, and it sounds like a babbling stream. I notice the water feeds into the irrigation system, so it’s not just for appearances. There’s a lounger near the fountain. Beside it is a small table with a stack of books. This must be somewhere Jorge truly comes to relax. I shift my focus to him when I sense he’s watching me.

“Do you like it, little one?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice.

“Yes, it’s incredible. I love everything that I see. Would you mind if I came up here sometimes without you?”

It’s definitely relief I see now. He wanted to ask me to join him, but he worried I’d say no.

“Of course. You don’t need my permission. Hell, half of my family raids my vegetable patch without me knowing. I’ll come up to get something, and the vine or bush will be picked nearly clean.”

“Do you think you might be able to bring a second lounger up here? It’s as close to serenity as I’ve ever seen.”

He beams at me, and it’s pure joy I see in his eyes when I tell him I’d like to share this space with him. “That’s how I feel about it, too. Have you ever done any gardening?”

“A little, but I certainly wouldn’t say I have a green thumb. I don’t kill my plants. I just don’t make them flourish like this.”

“Any time you’d like to come up here, I’d be happy to share this with you.”

We walk over to the vegetable patch, and his expression quickly turns to a playful scowl.