Angel chuckled ever so softly. “Perhaps and maybe you’ll come to understand why I feel as strongly as I do. And, it was a pleasure to see you again as well, Ms. Bradsher,” he concluded as she brushed past him.
Angel watched as she made her way out the door and down the hallway. He shook his head from side to side. That one could drive him completely crazy. Clearly, she wasn’t his type, he mused as he headed back to the kitchen. The woman was too opinionated and exceptionally outspoken. Women like that usually had too much of nothing to say and much more than he was interested in hearing, he thought to himself. As he watched her exit the building, he couldn’t help but appreciate the sway of her hips in her tight shorts and the toned muscles that comprised the length of her legs. No, she clearly wasn’t his type, but why did she have to be so darn sexy?
As Roshawn pulled her car out of the parking lot, she reflected on her conversation with Rios. He had barely opened his mouth for a second and she knew cute or not, he was surely not the man for her. One man telling her what a woman should and should not do had been enough to last her a lifetime. She had no interest in trying to beat some sanity into any other. Angel Rios was clearly a lost cause, even if he did have one of the nicest bodies of any man she’d ever known.
Chapter 9
Ming sat on a kitchen chair in front of her mother as Roshawn combed the tangles from the girl’s waist-length hair. She massaged a creamy concoction of mango and coconut oil through the lengths to moisturize the sun-streaked strands.
“You swam in salt water, didn’t you?” Roshawn asked.
The girl nodded.
“The salt and now all this heat and sunshine has dried your hair out. We’ll need to give it a few deep conditioning treatments for a while to strengthen it back or it’s going to start breaking off.”
“I like that conditioner,” Ming chimed. “It smells so good.”
Roshawn took a deep inhale of breath. “It does, doesn’t it?”
“Nina says you need to bottle it. She loves what it does to her hair.”
Roshawn shrugged. “I never really thought about it.”
The girl laughed. “Did you see Daddy’s face when we came in and those two guys were sitting here getting their hair cut? He was so funny!”
Roshawn rolled her eyes. “Remind me to talk to your father about that. Just because I’m borrowing his house for a while doesn’t give him any right to be walking in and out of here any time he feels like it. He doesn’t even bother to knock. He’s going to need to lose that key.”
Ming giggled. “Allison said the same thing.”
“She did?”
The girl nodded. “I think they had a fight about it. I asked Daddy but he said it was just a difference of opinion. But I don’t think Allison likes having you so close by.”
Roshawn raised an eyebrow, contemplating her daughter’s comment. She wrapped a plastic cap around the girl’s head, then gestured toward the hair dryer sitting on the kitchen table. “You need to sit under the hood for ten minutes, then we’ll rinse your hair out, and blow it dry, okay?”
“Thanks, Mommy.”
As Ming settled herself under the dryer, grabbing one of her teen magazines in her hands, Roshawn reached for the telephone and dialed a number Nina had left for her. The phone rang repeatedly and when there was no answer she hung up the receiver. She reviewed her appointment book for a second time, then jotted a quick notation into the margin.
Nina had been referring clients to her faster than she could handle them all. The evening before last, Patrick Tracy and two of the outfielders had come to get their hair cut, the only time they’d had available on their one day off. John Chen had not been amused when he’d arrived, unannounced, their teenage daughter in tow. And, Allison had seemed equally annoyed, but Roshawn’s instincts told her that Allison’s unhappiness was due to Chen’s attitude and behavior more than anything else. Roshawn shook her head. She was sure Allison had some issues with her moving to Arizona, living in their old house and working for Chen. What woman wouldn’t?
Glancing over to the clock on the wall, Roshawn thought about giving Chen a call but decided against it. If Allison was unhappy, that was his problem, but if there was any truth to what Ming suspected, she surely didn’t want to be responsible for Chen and Allison fighting about it. She’d always gone out of her way to make the woman feel comfortable. Maybe the next time they were together, she would pull Allison aside for a heart-to-heart and let her knew she wasn’t interested in Chen, Roshawn thought to herself. At the moment though, she had other issues to deal with. Juggling her home salon schedule being foremost in her mind.
Yesterday, one of the baseball wives and a secretary from the team’s president’s office had come for two haircuts, one perm and one roller set. Five heads, two days, and almost a thousand dollars later and Roshawn was quickly warming up to her side business. She had always been good at what she did and for the first time in a very long while she was enjoying it. She grinned.
Her temporary assistant’s position was also going nicely; she and Chen working easily together despite an occasional difference of opinion, as Chen would prefer to call their somewhat heated battles. Ming was happier than she’d been in months and her relationship with her mother seemed to have regained its stride, the girl enjoying her mother’s company without the teenage attitude and belligerent behavior. Roshawn was more than grateful for that blessing.
The telephone interrupted her thoughts and Roshawn pulled the receiver into her hand to answer it. “Hello?”
“Yes, hello,” the male voice said, “may I speak to Mrs. Bradsher, please?”
“It’s Ms. Bradsher. How may I help you?”
“Nina Tracy gave me your name and number. I’m interested in scheduling an appointment for a haircut, if that’s possible.”
Roshawn nodded into the receiver. “It is. What’s your name?”
“My name’s Bryan and I’m with the Doubletree Hotel. The appointment is actually for one of our guests and his son who are visiting with us for a brief period.”
“And Nina gave you my number?”
“Yes, she and her husband, Patrick both spoke very highly of you.”
“When would they like to come?”
“Would Thursday evening be a problem?”
Roshawn reached for her book and gave it a quick glance. “I can do them both at seven.”
There was a brief pause. “That would be fine.”
“Do you know where I’m located?” Roshawn asked. The answer was negative and she provided an address and quick directions when asked. The man named Bryan extended his thanks and disconnected the call. As she hung up the receiver Roshawn realized she’d not gotten the names of her two appointments. Oh well, she thought, crossing back to the other side of the room to check on her daughter’s head. She’d worry about it later. Right now she wanted to finish Ming’s hair so the two of them could get out of the house to enjoy what was left of a beautiful day.
* * *
Israel Rios grinned as Bryan Harvey passed him the scrap of paper with the woman’s address and appointment time.
“Gracias, Bryan.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Rios. Is there anything else I can assist you with?” the young man asked, his dark eyes shining his eagerness to be of further assistance.
The elderly man shook his head. “That will be all for now,” he said as he took a slow walk across the lobby and out the front door.
The day was exceptionally warm, the sun settled high in the deep blue sky. Had there been the roar of the ocean, deep blue waters to kiss a sandy shoreline, he would have thought he was back home in his native Santo Domingo. Israel took a deep breath, filling his lungs with dry heat. Taking a seat on an empty bench in front of the building he pulled the day’s newspaper from his back pocket, opening it to the sports section. He reread the article for the umpteenth time, one paragraph in particular filling his chest with pride—Newcomer Angel Rios knocked two homers off pitcher Arnie
Munoz to lead the Titans past the White Sox, 5-3, on Tuesday afternoon in front of a packed crowd at Bank One Ballpark.
He refolded the paper, laying it against the bench at his side. Thursday would be Angel’s last day home. Then his son would have to be on the road for a week, the team playing five consecutive away games before returning to Phoenix. It would be the only opportunity Israel would have to bring his son face-to-face with the beautiful black woman. He smiled as he thought about her.
Israel had gone to John Chen’s office to meet her for himself. As he remembered the moment he couldn’t stop himself from grinning wider, fully understanding what it was about Roshawn Bradsher that had knocked his son right off sides.
He could hear the two of them outside the office door. John Chen hadn’t been happy about something and it had been clear to anyone within earshot that Roshawn hadn’t been bothered in the least by his disapproval. The woman had stood her ground, almost defiant as she made her point and stood fast behind it, never once wavering from her position. Chen had tossed his hands up in exasperation while she had stared him down, clearly amused, her arms folded firmly across her chest.
Israel had poked his head in cautiously, peering around the wooden door to ensure it was safe to enter. The old man had smiled in greeting, waving gingerly as Mr. Chen had invited him inside.
“Mr. Rios, please come in. How are you, sir?”
“Gracias. I am well, Mr. Chen. I hope I am not interrupting?”
“Not at all,” the man said as he tossed a look in Roshawn’s direction.
The exquisite woman had smiled warmly, her gaze scrutinizing him from head to toe. She’d extended her hand, introducing herself before Chen could even think about doing so. “Hello, sir. I’m Roshawn Bradsher.”
Israel had pressed her manicured fingers between his lightly callused palms, gently caressing the appendage between his own. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Señorita Bradsher.”
“Please, just call me Roshawn. Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Rios? A cup of coffee or maybe some tea?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you. I only stopped by to say hello. Mr. Chen has been a good friend to me and my son.”
Her smile had warmed him, the sweetness of it like a soothing touch.
“Are you and your son settling in comfortably?” Roshawn asked.
The man nodded. “Yes, thank you. We will be better once we are in a home of our own. Do you know my son?”
“We’ve met briefly. You must be very proud.”
The old man beamed. “That I am,” he boasted, his chest expanding. “He is a good son, my Angel.”
Chen had taken that moment to interject. “Mr. Rios, why don’t you have a seat so you and I can catch up.” He turned to Roshawn. “We can finish our conversation later.”
The woman had chuckled lightly. “I think you know my position, Mr. Chen. It’s not going to change,” she stated firmly, spinning out of the room.
Israel had watched as John Chen’s jaw had tightened ever so slightly. The Asian man had fought the urge to call after her. Israel had laughed out loud as he dropped into one of the leather chairs in front of the man’s desk. “She’s full of fire, that one, no?” he’d said, gesturing toward the door the woman had just closed.
Chen had nodded, a smile pulling at his lips. “Fire and then some,” he’d responded. “That’s why she and I are no longer married,” he had added unconsciously. “She drives me crazy.”
“She was your wife, this woman?”
Chen took a seat opposite the man. “Many years ago. We’re divorced now, but we remained good friends. Most times at least.”
Israel nodded. “Do you have children together?”
“One daughter. Ming will be eighteen this year.”
“You had your child very young.”
“Too young, but we were very much in love.” A wistful look crossed Chen’s face. “Probably too much in love.”
Israel smiled slightly.
Chen noted the look on the old man’s face, his expression a cross between curiosity and amusement. Suddenly embarrassed, he struggled to explain himself. “Marriage was a huge responsibility. Roshawn saw it one way and I saw it another. We just weren’t able to make it work for us.”
“You still have love for her,” Israel stated matter-of-factly.
Chen smiled. “Roshawn is the type of woman you never really get out of your system. One day though she’ll find a man who can handle all that fire in her. When that happens I will be as happy for her as she has been for me and my new wife.”
A moment of silence wafted into the room.
Chen smiled sheepishly. “So, now that I’ve spilled my soul, what can I do for you today?”
The two men laughed.
Israel shook his head. “I really did just stop by to say hello.”
“Angel spoke to me about finding a home for you two. I know with his schedule things haven’t been easy. I’m trying to see what I can do to help you out.”
“My son worries about too many things. He shouldn’t but I cannot tell him so.”
Chen smiled. “It is what we sons should do, Mr. Rios.”
Israel returned the smile as he rose to his feet. “Thank you, Mr. Chen. It has been good to talk with you again.”
Chen extended his hand, both men shaking firmly. Back in the reception area, Roshawn greeted him warmly, her down-to-earth personality overly engaging. “Was he any help to you, Mr. Rios, or do I need to take over?” she’d asked jokingly.
The man grinned. “A beautiful woman who takes charge. You could hurt a man’s heart.”
“Only the right man,” she had answered coyly. “
And who might that be?” Israel asked.
Roshawn shrugged, a smile still filling her face. “I don’t know yet. Have you been spoken for, Mr. Rios?”
He laughed. “I am much too old for you, little one,” he responded.
Roshawn laughed with him. “What’s that old saying? Just because there’s snow on the roof, doesn’t mean there isn’t fire down below?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t know this saying, but I like it. I must remember this one.” His head waved from side to side. “But no, I am not available, but I do have a son who is,” he said, humor dancing in his eyes.
Roshawn could feel herself blushing, the heat of it warming her cheeks as thoughts of Angel danced through her mind. “I have met that son of yours. I don’t know that he and I would get along very well. Plus, they say that he’s quite the ladies’ man. It doesn’t sound like he’s interested in any one woman having his heart.”
“Do you believe everything they say?”
She shook her own head. “Not at all. Finding out for myself is always so much more fun.”
“Then perhaps you should. Find out for yourself, that is.” Roshawn giggled. “Are you playing matchmaker for your son, Mr. Rios?”
The man leaned in close, taking a quick glance over his shoulder as he did. He rested his hands against her shoulders as he whispered into her ear. “My son needs much help, but don’t tell him I told you so.”
The two laughed easily.
“I like you, Mr. Rios. I think you and I are going to be great friends.”
“We most definitely will be, but only if you call me Israel. We share a secret now, so we can only be on first names.”
“Then Israel it is,” Roshawn said as she walked with him toward the elevator.
As they reached the elevator doors and he pushed the button for the lobby, he reached out to give her a quick hug. “It has been very nice to meet you, Roshawn.”
“The pleasure has been all mine, Israel. I hope I’ll see you again soon.” As the elevator doors had closed, both were still waving at each other.
Israel picked up his newspaper, tucking it easily beneath his arm as he made his way back inside the hotel. He was looking forward to his haircut on Thursday. But he was looking forward to his son and the woman being in the same room togethe
r more.
* * *
Ming had decided to spend the night, making herself comfortable in the guest bedroom. The two had talked for hours, watching movies on cable and consuming a large bowl of Orville Redenbacher’s movie butter popcorn mixed with plain M&M’s. The salt-and-sugar rush had been the perfect touch to end the evening. Ming had enjoyed her mother’s company and her mother had relished their time together as well.
By the stroke of midnight Ming was sound asleep. Roshawn tiptoed into the room to open a side window so a breeze of fresh air could billow through the young woman’s dreams. Ming stirred ever so slightly, rolling from one side of the double bed to the other, settling deeper against the plush pillows. Her mother smiled as she pulled the cotton sheet up over the child’s shoulders and tiptoed her way out, closing the door gently behind her.
In her own bed, Roshawn tossed and turned about, her body restless. She had taken Ming to the ball game, both cheering excitedly from the bleachers. Angel Rios had hit a home run and bunt sacrifice to help the Titans take another win. The man had been running through her thoughts ever since.
She grinned as she thought about his father. Roshawn’s mother had often told her that if you wanted to know what kind of man you were getting for the long haul, then you only needed to take a long look at his father. If the father was aging well, chances were, there was a thread of hope for his off-spring. If there was any truth to that, then Angel Rios would surely age like an expensive bottle of fine wine. Israel Rios was a nice-looking man. With his silvery head, bronze complexion, well-maintained body and classic features, it was clear from where his son had inherited his good looks. Too bad, she thought, he hadn’t gotten an ounce of his father’s charm.
* * *
The next day mother and daughter headed over to the Children’s Center together to spend some time. Ming had organized an afternoon tea party for the little girls in her youth group and both women were excited. The young ladies had all been instructed to come attired in their best dresses to coordinate with the wide-brimmed hats they’d constructed and decorated during the week. Roshawn had been thrilled when Ming had asked her to join them. The day before the duo had scoured the thrift shops and dollar stores, coming up with enough pairs of white gloves to add the finishing touch to the event.
Love in the Lineup Page 9