He walked back with her to the main entrance and held the door open. She stepped inside, and he walked away. Impulsively, she turned to watch him go. Even his walk was impressive, like that of a determined panther stalking his prey—enthralling to watch, unless she was the prey.
* * *
Early next morning, Nicole pulled her car into the lot outside the mall. She entered the building through Wellington Bookstore, and started to browse the shelves. There was a tiny café located within the store, where she planned to meet Julian in ten minutes. It was a far cry from where he had suggested taking her, but she liked having the advantage of keeping him within her territory. He seemed less threatening that way.
She had come right after driving Trey to school and was feeling stressed. Her son had not been in the best of moods and had put up some resistance, indicating he did not want to go. She had wheedled and cajoled, until finally he gave in. But as he got out of the car, he’d turned to look at her with an expression that was a cross between bitter disappointment and anger.
It would almost be a relief if Julian did not show up. There was the possibility he wouldn’t. After all, why would a star want to have coffee in a bookstore café? Wasn’t he worried about being harassed by fans?
Shoving Julian to the back of her mind, she gravitated toward the education section and selected a book on home schooling children. It seemed that more and more people were choosing that option lately and she wondered if maybe that might be a solution for Trey. The more she read, the more engrossed she became. If home schooling were possible, she could still keep her present job and devote the hours during the day to her son. There were a lot of state qualifications to be met, but she did have a college degree and both her parents had been teachers.
A shadow fell over her, and Nicole turned with a start to see Julian standing behind her.
“Hey,” he said. “Did you think I wasn’t gonna show up?”
“It did enter my mind.” She started to replace the book, but he picked it up.
“A parent’s guide to home schooling,” he said, reading the title. “Got something against public education?”
“As a matter of fact I do, but my son is in a private school.” She took the book away from him and put it back on the shelf.
“Your son? Oh yes, the kid I saw the other night. How old is he?”
“He’s six,” she said, not hiding her irritation. How could he have forgotten being told about Trey? It also reminded her that she’d never asked Allyson what Trey was doing up way past his bedtime on that stupid night.
“He looks like you,” Julian said, drinking her in with his eyes. “It’s good to see you without the uniform.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but she was aware he was looking at her with an expression that was nothing short of intense. It made her feel self-conscious, as though a button had suddenly come undone on her pink blouse. She wondered if the jeans she wore were too tight, because they felt like they were melting under his gaze.
“Let’s go for coffee.” She knew she would have to take charge of the situation or it would get completely out of control. Already she was getting lost in his hypnotic eyes, and a few people passing by seemed to be staring at them. She hoped she was imagining that.
They climbed the stairs to the café. Julian pulled out a chair for her and asked what she wanted. When he went to the counter to order, Nicole noticed the cashier give him a double take. Hopefully the girl would conclude that he just looked like the famous singer. It felt very weird to be a part of this scene. Julian was obviously a man who was used to being waited on and here he was in a little self-serve café.
“Are you sure that’s all you want?” Julian asked, setting the cappuccino in front of her.
“Yes, I’m sure, thanks,” she murmured, stirring distractedly at the hot beverage, noting that he had chosen black coffee. She was also noting his skin-tight aqua T-shirt.
“Do you always drink coffee plain?” she asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence.
“Yeah. It’s usually the Cuban variety though. Have you ever had Cuban coffee?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Next time,” he said.
There would be a next time? She had never been so tongue-tied in her life, because she did not know what they were supposed to be talking about. Gazing at him, she could tell that he was not the least bit bothered by the silence. It was as if they both had all day to sit there.
Julian did not find the setting uncomfortable. He liked being in a casual, unpretentious place, looking at a woman who was beautiful, not because she was wearing the latest designer clothes, not because she’d had her makeup done at some chic salon, but because her reddish-brown hair was long and thick, restrained only by a simple barrette, and her lips were not flaming red, but delicately pink, with just a touch of gloss. He also knew she had more on her mind than self-gratification.
Perhaps a bit of humor was needed. Humor at his expense, Nicole thought. “Julian, I’m dying to know what exactly did you do that night when I left you at the shop?”
A slow burning smile crept over his face. “Oh, it was one of those truly great moments. I realized that I had to get out of there before someone came to open the shop. I checked outside to see if anyone was looking and then I sprinted for the car. About that time I realized my keys were missing.
She laughed. “Continue.”
“Well, there really isn’t much else. I called a friend and he came and picked me up.”
“Did anyone observe this?”
“Probably, but at least it was early, not too many people out.”
He didn’t tell her that he’d rushed back to the shop to make the phone call, only to find that the door had automatically locked, leaving him with no recourse except to beg a passerby on the street for money in order to use a public phone. Hopefully the observers had not known who he was.
Nicole was even more puzzled by him. She had expected that they would spend their few minutes together talking about his career. Most famous people loved to talk about themselves. She had been prepared to just sit, nod her head, and look awed at the appropriate time, but it appeared that he was forcing her to ask.
“You must lead a very exciting life,” she said
Julian shrugged. “I get to travel a lot, meet fascinating people. It’s not really all glamour though. Sometimes it’s just plain tiring. I’ve been on tour since spring.”
“Are you on a break from touring now?”
“The tour is over for this year, thank God, but I still have some promotion stuff to do. I’ll be in the studio working on my new CD. Next year I’ll be touring to promote that one.
“What’s your new CD going to be like?”
“It’s supposed to be a big one. Up until now, I’ve only recorded in Spanish. The record company wants me to do a crossover in English this time.”
He would definitely be a success in English, she thought. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you,” she said. “I…I was at your concert and it was really great. You have a terrific voice.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh? Is that why you walked out in the middle of my song?”
He seemed to have the advantage now. She’d slipped up and given him an opening. “It was a beautiful song, but it reminded me of something that…that happened in my past and…I know it’s silly, but I just couldn’t…”
“I understand,” he said. “That song has a personal meaning to me too.”
She wanted to quickly ask him what the song meant to him, so she wouldn’t have to explain herself anymore, but she wasn’t fast enough.
“You did tell me that your son’s father died. Does it have something to do with that?”
“Yes.” She could not lie. “My husband was a cop. He was murdered right in front of our son.” And the torrent was unleashed. Julian remained absolutely silent as she related the whole story, hardly pausing, hardly even breathing. When she stopped talking
, she only hoped that she had made some sense.
“Life can be really cruel sometimes,” Julian said slowly. “I’m very sorry about what happened to you and Trey.”
Nicole sat up straighter and pushed her cup away. Bitterness started to creep in. She was angry at herself for having revealed so much. So what if he was sorry? What did he care about her problems?
“It’s been three years,” Nicole said, ready to leave. “Life goes on.”
Julian took a deep breath. “Yeah, life does go on all right, but the past makes us who we are. We don’t really forget. We never forget.”
We? She drifted out of her own head and looked directly into his eyes. They looked haunted, as if he were reflecting not only on her pain, but his own as well. She started to question him, but again he spoke first.
“So what’re they saying about Trey? Will he talk again?”
She told him about the endless therapy sessions, the heartless teachers in the public school, and the fact that he was now in a school for the handicapped.
“I’d like to see you again,” Julian said. “And I’d like to meet Trey.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. Trey’s kind of shy,”
“That’s okay. I like kids. Besides, how’s he going to get over his problem by avoiding people?”
That wasn’t really what she meant. She did not consider Julian to be like regular people, and she had assumed that this would be their last meeting. She did not want her son involved in this game.
“How about Saturday…you, me, and Trey,” Julian offered. “We’ll go skating early in the morning. I know this great diner where we can have breakfast. It’s real kid-friendly. He’ll enjoy it.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. She laughed. “You mean you want to hang out with a six year old?”
“Sure. He’s probably better company than some of the adults I usually hang with. This Saturday, before seven, I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay, sounds like it could be fun,” she murmured, wondering who this woman was who had agreed to such a thing.
“I thought you looked beautiful doing your nurse thing, but you’re even more beautiful now,” Julian said.
“Thank you,” she said, blushing.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nicole noticed the cashier whispering to a co-worker, and then they were both looking at Julian.
“Uh oh, I think your cover has been blown,” Nicole said.
They both rose simultaneously and went down the stairs. Julian felt slightly irritated by the intrusion, but maybe it had come at the right time. He wanted to spend the rest of the morning with her, but he realized that Nicole had revealed a lot, making herself vulnerable and if he pushed harder she might retreat.
“See you Saturday,” she said, approaching the bookstore’s exit.
“Don’t forget your skates,” he said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Later that day, as Julian wandered through the studio, he reflected on how rapidly their musical enterprise had grown. It was jointly owned by Luis and himself, and was housed in a large office complex. Already it had become the studio of choice for a lot of popular recording artists. Luis was starting to get involved with the management of other artists, and in the future, Julian intended to get more involved with the business side too. If he could help it, he did not want to be a performer for the rest of his life.
He glanced into his manager’s office, but Luis was not there. He went inside and scanned the desk to see if he’d left a certain demo tape on it. It was nowhere in sight. Luis probably had it with him. As he turned to leave, he heard the distinctive sound of footsteps, footsteps in high heels rapidly approaching. He groaned.
“I have been looking all over for you,” Elena said, entering. “Where is Luis?”
“Somewhere in the building I guess,” Julian said.
She’s trying too hard to disguise the fact that she’s forty-nine, he thought. Her harsh makeup and bleached hair actually made her look older. Her hair had been permed so much that it had lost all luster and was as dry as hay, but no one could tell Elena anything. It always had to be the other way around.
“I have something to talk to you about,” she said, and slapped a magazine down on the desk.
“A tabloid?” Julian said. “Thought you didn’t read this stuff.”
She ignored him. “Turn to page three.”
Frowning, he turned the page to stare at a big picture of himself standing at an open phone booth, wearing a towel. The caption under the picture read, “What’s it all about, Julian?”
“Would you care to explain this lunacy?” Elena demanded.
“Well, let’s see.” He rubbed the side of his face. “I was taking a shower and then I decided I had to make a phone call.”
“I don’t think that’s very funny. Maybe your simple-minded girlfriends find it cute, but I’ve told you over and over again about this kind of behavior. You…”
Julian shoved the tabloid aside. “Look, I know it was stupid, but I have no intention of explaining anything. Just let it go, will you? At least I wasn’t naked.”
“You have a responsibility!” She practically jabbed her pointed finger in his face. “Young people emulate stars like you. I do not want to hear about any scandals in this family.” She was in full-blown, self-righteous mode now. “You had better get control of that drinking problem.”
“I don’t have a drinking problem.”
“And just what were you doing in that part of town anyway?” she continued.
He tossed the magazine into the trash. “Maybe it’s because I’m that kind of person.”
“Oh, don’t start on me with that crap. We’ve had this conversation before, only you were much younger. You’ve become the success you are by not hanging around with…with minorities. They are not your audience. There is no reason for you to capitalize on the fact that your father was black. The Cuban community and other Hispanics have supported you.”
Julian struggled to contain the anger he felt. “The Cuban community and others are not blind. Maybe I don’t completely look it, but most people know that I am also black.”
“Oh, so you want to get in touch with your distant roots, do you? Are you planning to do rap music on your next CD?”
He had to laugh. He did listen to hip-hop occasionally, but for him to do a rap recording would be nothing short of a joke. “You’re such a bigot, Elena.”
“That’s a lie and you know it! This is about business.”
“Yes, it’s always about business. I am not going to argue with you, but this is my life and no one is going to dictate to me who my friends should or shouldn’t be, or tell me what part of town to avoid.”
“I am not trying to run your life. All the things I’ve told you have always been for your own good. You should realize by now that things go smoothly when you listen to sound advice. You always wind up in trouble when you start getting strange ideas.”
The best way to deal with her is just to shut her out. She will continue to think the way she always does no matter what say I say, he thought.
Elena took his silence as an indication that he agreed with her.
“Remember it’s for your own good,” she reiterated.
Julian walked past her and left the room.
* * *
The stars were twinkling in the velvety night sky and the light from the crescent moon reflected on the rippling waves. Julian sat on the dock at the end of his property, closed his eyes and remembered.
“How many fish are in the sea, Papi?”
“Oh…billions and billions. You could never count them, son.”
“You mean like the stars? I can’t count them either.”
“Yes, like the stars.”
“Papi?”
“Yes, Julian.”
“Why is Mama so sad?”
“She sees things differently from other people, and when things do not go the way she wishes, it makes her sad.”
“Why can’t th
ings be like the way she wishes?”
“Ahhh, you are so young. You have many questions.”
“Why, Papi?”
“You will understand when you grow up, but you will grow up in Miami, not here.”
“Are you coming to Miami with me, Papi?”
“Yes, son. I’m coming.”
Julian opened his eyes and realized they had gotten misty. He had come a long way since Cuba, but the images and his father’s voice were so real. He definitely did not miss the place, but he did miss the feeling of having once been loved and cared for.
It hurt that he could not remember his father Enrique’s face. He did remember a tall, solid man with large brown hands and a gentle voice. He remembered Enrique’s hands on his own smaller ones, teaching him how to play the guitar, showing him how to throw a baseball, drying his tears. He could remember the essence of the man who had loved and cherished him for seven short years, but without having any pictures, he could not visualize his face.
He could still smell the aromatic scents coming from his Aunt Alma’s tiny kitchen, and he could picture her face with its chocolate-colored skin, honey-brown eyes, and the way her long, thick-textured hair framed it. Once he had believed that she was really his mother because she’d always called him her baby and she was always buying him things and giving him hugs and kisses.
He had never hugged his real mother. His memories of Felicia were of a pale, sickly woman who had always been in bed every time he had been taken to see her. The visits had been few, because his father was not married to his mother and she was unable to take care of him. She was legally married to Elena’s father, Jorge Diaz, an abusive man who hated Enrique and had threatened to harm Julian when he was a baby, which was why he lived with his father and his aunt.
Felicia had been separated from Jorge for three years at the time she’d fallen in love with Enrique. They’d met when she’d been a patient in the hospital for the emotionally ill, where he worked as an assistant pharmacist. Enrique’s being a descendant of African slaves, and Felicia’s being a mix of white and Hispanic, had not been an issue in general society, but her estranged husband had detested the relationship out of jealousy, even though he lived elsewhere with another woman.
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