Chapter 118 New Normal

Chapter 118 New Normal
The office's expansive windows offered a view of the Manhattan skyline, which shimmered as the late-afternoon sun bathed the glass towers in a golden hue. 
Maritza was at the conference table's head, Xavier in a linen sling. The baby fed silently, hand on chest, only the sound of her mouth breaking the video call's hum.
On the screen, Juan Morales—the lead supplier from the Jalisco highlands—leaned forward, mustache twitching as he gestured at the spreadsheet shared between them. “…and with the new irrigation system, we’re projecting a 22% yield increase next harvest. The soil’s still recovering from the drought, but the blue agave is resilient. Just like the de León spirit, no?”
Maritza smiled, one hand steadying Xavier’s head while the other scrolled through the numbers on her tablet. “I like the numbers, Juan. But I need guarantees on delivery timelines. We’re launching the limited-edition Solera in Q3—New York market won’t wait.”
Juan nodded solemnly. “You have my word, Doña Maritza. The first shipment leaves Guadalajara in three weeks. I’ll personally oversee the aging.”
She glanced down at Xavier—his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, mouth working steadily.
Six months old and already he had her stubborn streak and Cole’s quiet intensity. Nursing during a supplier call had become her new normal. No apologies. No excuses. This was who she was now: mother, heiress, CEO.
“Send the updated contracts to Judith by end of day,” she said. “I want them signed and couriered before the weekend.”
Juan touched his heart. “As always, a pleasure, Doña. Kiss the pequeño for me.”
The screen went dark.
Maritza exhaled, shoulders dropping a fraction. 
Xavier chose that moment to unlatch, letting out a small, milky sigh before turning his face toward her breast again, rooting with sleepy determination.
“Greedy boy,” she murmured, smiling as she readjusted him. “Just like your father.”
The door to the office opened silently. Judith, around forty-five with warm brown eyes and an unflappable nature, entered with a tray: iced hibiscus tea, mango slices, and new documents.
“How’d it go?” Judith asked, setting the tray on the side table.
“Better than expected. Juan’s finally giving me the yield projections I asked for three months ago.”
Judith chuckled. “Miracles do happen. Lunch is here too—Cole dropped it off twenty minutes ago. Said to tell you he’s running late from court but the empanadas are still warm.”
Maritza’s heart did that familiar flip at the mention of his name. She glanced at the clock: 2:17 p.m. Cole’s new law firm—Harrison Legal—was only twelve blocks away, but his caseload had been relentless since they’d launched six weeks earlier.
She shifted Xavier to her shoulder, patting his back gently. He let out a tiny burp, then settled against her neck, warm and heavy with milk-drunk contentment.
The door opened again—this time with more force.
Cole stepped in, tie loosened, suit jacket slung over one arm, hair slightly mussed from the wind. His eyes found Maritza and Xavier immediately, and the tension in his shoulders eased.
Xavier’s head popped up at the sound of his father’s footsteps. His little face lit up—gums flashing in a gummy grin—and he reached out both arms, making soft, urgent “eh-eh-eh” sounds.
Cole crossed the room in three strides, dropping his jacket on a chair. “There’s my boy.” He scooped Xavier from Maritza’s arms, pressing a kiss to the baby’s cheek. Xavier giggled—high, delighted—and grabbed fistfuls of Cole’s tie, tugging like he was trying to pull his father closer.
Maritza watched them, heart full to aching. Six months of sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, and still—every time Cole held their son, it felt like the first time.
Cole leaned down, kissing her slow and lingering. “Missed you both.”
“Missed you more,” she murmured against his lips.
He straightened, bouncing Xavier gently. “Court ran long. Pro bono case—domestic violence. Judge granted the restraining order. Client cried in the hallway.”
Maritza’s eyes softened. “You’re doing good work.”
He shrugged, but the pride was there. “It’s intense. The firm’s growing faster than I expected. We’ve got six associates now. I’m trying not to drown in paperwork.”
She reached for the lunch bag. “Empanadas?”
“Beef and cheese. Your favorite.” He sat beside her, Xavier now gnawing happily on his tie. “How was the supplier call?”
“Solid. We’re locked in for the Solera launch. Juan’s even promising a private barrel for the New York tasting.”
Cole grinned. “That’s my girl. Conquering Mexico from a Manhattan conference room while nursing.”
Maritza laughed softly. “Multitasking queen.”
Lunch boxes and iced tea were enjoyed in a peaceful setting, with Xavier relaxed in Cole’s lap. The city hummed outside the windows, a distant symphony of horns and sirens.
Then Judith was back in the doorway, looking stern.
“Maritza? There’s someone here to see you. He says it’s urgent. Reed Worthington.”
Maritza froze, spoon fallen on the floor.  
Cole’s hand stilled on Xavier’s back.
Reed Worthington.
Her former best friend.
Before giving her the key to Ricardo's betrayal at the club, he spent years deceiving her, lying to her, and exploiting her contacts to pay off his gambling debts. The man who’d disappeared after the Montoya scandal, leaving her to clean up the mess.
She set the ice tea  glass down carefully.
“What the hell is he doing here?” she asked, voice low and dangerous.
Judith hesitated. “He’s in the waiting area. Says he won’t leave until he speaks to you. He… he looks rough. Like he’s been through something.”
Cole’s jaw tightened. “You don’t have to see him.”
Maritza looked at Xavier—sleepy, safe, unaware. Then at Cole—fierce, protective, ready to throw Reed out himself.
She took a slow breath.
“Bring him in,” she said.
Judith nodded and disappeared.
Cole shifted Xavier to his shoulder. “You sure?”
Maritza met his eyes. “I’m done running from the past. Let him say whatever he came to say.”
The door opened again.
Reed stepped in—thinner, older, hollow-eyed. His once-expensive suit hung off him. He looked like a man who’d been running for six years and finally run out of places to hide.
He stopped just inside the threshold, eyes flicking from Maritza to Cole to the baby in Cole’s arms.
“Ritz,” he said, voice rough. “I need your help.”