Jeneva and Bridget had teased her and she had giggled along with them, although there had been a part of her that hadn’t found any of it funny. Even the expression on Chen’s face hadn’t yet moved her to laugh, although she didn’t doubt there would come a moment when just the memory of it would send her into hysterics. Like best friends do, they had given her a fountain of advice to mull over and she had been sitting there ever since, exploring and questioning every ounce of it.
She and Angel were both acting like this was some grade-school infatuation, she thought. Roshawn had played this game before, she mused, remembering back to sixth grade at Ordway Elementary School. Frankie Salley had been her first crush and on a daily basis the two had fought like cats and dogs. Every morning Frankie would greet her with a swift punch to the shoulder that she gladly reciprocated. How else was Frankie supposed to know she wanted to be his girlfriend? And now she and Angel were exchanging punches, unable to express what was really going on between them.
But after that morning’s kiss, Roshawn was ready to change the rules. Angel had crossed the boundary lines and then retreated. But Roshawn knew there would be no going back for either one of them. She was more than ready to play until both of them could claim a win. She wanted him and had no doubts whatsoever that he wanted her just as much.
She looked around the space, suddenly aware of the quiet spinning a growing web through the room. When the telephone in her lap rang it startled her, pulling her back from her thoughts with such intensity that she jumped, dropping the receiver to the floor. Picking it up, she answered the call, catching it just seconds before the answering machine picked up.
“Hello?”
“Roshawn, it’s me.”
“Hi, Bridget. What’s up?”
The woman on the other end took a deep breath before speaking. “Have you made a decision yet about what you’re going to do?”
Her friend nodded into the receiver. “Yeah. I think I’m going to the Dominican Republic for a few days.”
Bridget smiled. “We knew you would, so Jeneva and I thought we’d help you out.”
“What did you two do?”
“Your flight leaves at ten. You need to be at the airport by eight o’clock. Unfortunately you have to change planes in Dallas, and then in Miami, so you won’t get there until tomorrow afternoon. But you’ll get there.”
Roshawn’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. You need to pack right now and get going. Jeneva’s already talked to Chen, so you don’t have to. He gave you Monday and Tuesday off. All you need to do is figure out where the man is once you get there.”
Tears filled Roshawn’s eyes. “Thanks, Bridget. I love you guys.”
“We know. Go get your man, girl!”
Her call to Israel had taken only a few minutes. The man had told her to relax and enjoy her flight. Someone would be there on the other end to pick her up and take her to Angel. Excitement had colored his tone and just before disconnecting the call he had sent his love to Angel. “Tell my son I will be praying for the two of you,” Israel had said with a wide smile in his voice.
“Thank you, Papí,” Roshawn had answered.
The old man’s grin had widened. “Papí sounds very good coming from your mouth, niña.”
Roshawn’s smile was as big. “I will see you soon,” she’d said as she had hung up the telephone.
* * *
The elderly woman who woke him from his sleep did so with much noise, fussing nonstop as she pulled the covers from around his body. Angel rolled to his side, playing a game of tug of war with her as she reprimanded him, her thick Spanish echoing around the large room.
“Get up,” his aunt said for the umpteenth time. “You are being lazy. I do not like lazy.”
“Aunt Maria, let me be,” Angel implored, pulling a plush pillow over his head.
“No. You must get up. There is much you need to do.”
“What is there for me to do?”
“I promised that you would head to the farms to check on things today. You must go do this.”
Angel sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” He sat up slowly, his eyes barely open as he struggled to focus on her.
The large woman smiled warmly. “You are a good nephew. Now, hurry up. I have many things to prepare for today and then I must go into town. You need to eat your breakfast and be on your way before I leave.”
He nodded slowly. “Where are you going?”
The woman hesitated, her eyes skipping around the room. “To the market. I have something I must pick up. Something special for your dinner tonight.”
“You know I don’t want you going to any trouble for me, Auntie.”
The woman smiled, her wide grin filling her warm brown complexion. “This will be worth the effort to see you pleased.”
Angel shook his head, shaking it at her and the sleep still trying to claim him.
“Up, nephew. Up now,” she commanded once again. “I must leave soon,” she said as she headed out the door. “My package will be arriving shortly and I must be there to meet it.”
* * *
She had slept well on her trip, each flight and plane change easier than the last. Stepping from the plane, out into the late afternoon sun, Roshawn was stung with the delicate, yet smoldering heat of the Caribbean weather. As she maneuvered her way through the ultramodern airport she was taken by the vibrant energy and colors of the people making their way from one point to another. After retrieving her one bag from the claims area she looked around for the ride that had been promised to her, a sudden wave of nervous energy spinning through her midsection.
Roshawn would have known the buxom woman even if she hadn’t been holding up the makeshift sign with her name misspelled. The spitting image of Israel, one could have mistaken this female image of him for an identical twin. The woman had his face, but with features that were clearly more feminine, more elegant, with thick, silvery hair that fell the length of her back.
Roshawn smiled warmly as she moved to greet her, making her way to the older woman’s side. “Holá. I am Roshawn.”
Maria Rios smiled, pulling the young woman into her arms and hugging her tightly. “Welcome,” she said. “We are so excited to have you here with us.”
“Thank you.”
“My brother said you were a beauty. He spoke the truth,” she said as she pulled Roshawn along beside her, leading them to a red minivan that she quickly maneuvered onto the road. Roshawn was duly impressed with the woman’s driving as she aggressively moved them through the overwhelming amount of traffic. At one point the woman turned the wrong way, down a one-way street. Roshawn gripped the door handle with one hand and her chest with the other. Maria laughed. “Don’t fret, child,” she implored casually as if such were a common occurrence. “There are no police nearby!”
The woman talked incessantly, continuous chatter about Israel, Angel, their family, Angel, their home and Angel. Every so often she would ask Roshawn a question about herself and Arizona, but the moments were few and far between. Roshawn smiled sweetly, enjoying the company and the beauty of the tropical paradise they bypassed, occasionally asking about a site that caught her interest.
“Angel has been good to his family,” the old woman was saying as they entered the outskirts of Santo Domingo. The ride from the airport to the northern coast of Santo Domingo and the Rios homestead had taken just under a half hour to complete and Roshawn looked up anxiously as her escort drove them through the entrance of Villa Rios. Her mouth fell open in awe, the sight before her totally unexpected. The woman beside her grinned broadly, her gray head bobbing up and down against her shoulders. “He has blessed us all with good fortune,” she said softly. “His heart is pure gold.”
The front gates opened on a winding driveway that circled a massive marble fountain. From the roadside to the front door of the Spanish-style villa, the driveway, walkways and parking areas had been constructed of natural flagstone. The drivew
ay was lined with towering manila palms that blew lazily beneath the warm breeze blowing in from the ocean. The home was surrounded by a series of exquisite gardens, the vibrant green vegetation beckoning one to walk between the brilliance of floral coloration and relax within the sheer beauty of it.
Maria parked the car and gestured for Roshawn to follow her inside. Roshawn was speechless as they stepped inside the front door, the expansive living space boasting a sweeping, circular staircase to the second floor, and three Spanish renaissance chandeliers that hung from the immense ceiling to light the room.
Roshawn followed her through the formal dining area, pausing to run her hand across the massive, kidney-shaped table with its twenty-four hand-carved chairs. A second flight of steps led them to the master bedroom suite that could have been a second home all on its own. It had its own bar, small kitchen, cedar-lined closets, separate office and television areas, plus a master bathroom with an oversize shower and Jacuzzi, and quadruple sinks.
Roshawn stood staring with her mouth open as Maria pointed out the amenities, opening the eight French doors to reveal the wraparound balcony that looked out to the swimming pool and gardens below, and the lush green mountains in the distance.
“This is where you will stay with Angel,” the woman pronounced, dropping Roshawn’s bag against the king-size bed.
Finding her voice, Roshawn shook her head. “I’m sure I should stay elsewhere.”
Maria laughed, fanning her hand in Roshawn’s direction. “We will see,” she said, not bothering to move Roshawn’s luggage from its resting spot. “But if you choose, we have two other bedrooms in this wing, and five in the other. We will find you someplace comfortable to rest.”
“When will he be back?”
“Very soon. And I must go prepare supper for the two of you. Make yourself comfortable,” she commanded as she stopped to give Roshawn a quick kiss on the cheek before exiting the room.
Minutes later Roshawn was still exploring the massive structure, ending her tour beneath a covered terrace that overlooked the swimming area. Roshawn was astonished by the size of the property, staring in wonder at not one, but three swimming pools of varying depths that flowed from top to bottom with three large waterfalls that spilled one pool into the other.
A large stone structure at the edge of the water caught her attention and Roshawn lifted herself to sit on top of it. Her legs dangled easily off the side and the vantage point gave her an incredible view of the landscape. Closing her eyes, she was suddenly consumed with the magnitude of where she was and why she had come. As the reality of her situation heightened her emotions she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at her predicament. What was forefront in her mind though was whether or not Angel would be happy to see her. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would have any interest at all in her being there. Just as that very question crossed her thoughts she could sense his presence. She could feel him staring, his eyes piercing straight through her and when she opened her own to look, Angel stood on the other side of the swimming pool watching her.
Her gaze met his, locking for a brief minute. A minute that felt like a lifetime. His expression was a mixture of curiosity and surprise with twinges of apprehension and joy shadowing the lines of his profile. He tossed a quick glance over his shoulder to his aunt who stood in the doorway and the old woman was smiling. Roshawn could see her mouth something, appearing to urge him on, and then she closed the door, disappearing back into her kitchen.
Angel hesitated for just a second longer, then sauntered slowly toward her. Roshawn could feel herself holding her breath, almost afraid to release the influx of oxygen she’d taken until she had sense of his mood. She wanted to be prepared in case he pushed her away again, leaving her spirit and hopes bruised.
She was suddenly taken aback by the beauty of him, his skin darkened even more by the Caribbean sun. And there was something in his eyes that she had seen only once before, when he had kissed her so unabashedly in her doorway. It was sheer joy that tinted his dark brown eyes, shimmering light over everything his gaze fell on. The intensity of it was so overwhelming that her whole body seemed to ignite in flames. She squeezed her thighs tightly together, as if the heat forming between them would escape. Waves of fire scorched her from the inside out and suddenly there wasn’t enough air, water, or cooling breezes to bring her any type of relief.
Angel stopped in front of her, one hand falling lightly against her knee as if he needed to assure himself that she was real and not a mirage he had created in his own mind. A smile pulled at his lips as he stepped in closer, easing himself between her parted legs. Roshawn wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, dropping her mouth to his. Relief blew past her lips as she kissed him, just a light brushing of her flesh against his, the gesture easy, almost tentative, as she reacquainted her mouth to his.
Pulling away, Angel took a half step back and stared at her. He had known something was up the minute he’d come through the front door and his aunt Maria had come racing from the back of the house to greet him. The woman’s excitement had painted her face, her enthusiasm spilling out in her laughter as she pulled him poolside, teasing him about a surprise. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that Roshawn would be here, now, like this, waiting for him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked suddenly, bewilderment crossing his face.
“I came to see you.” Roshawn smiled sweetly. “I wanted to be with you.”
“But why…” the man paused, searching for words.
“Do you not want me here, Angel?”
He stared again, stepping back between her thighs. She tightened her embrace around his waist. He shook his head. “No, I want you with me,” he answered, affirming the statement by kissing her again, this time with more ardor, a deep, long, luscious embrace that rose to a full swing of intensity. Roshawn relished the moment, finally breathing a sigh of relief that he had not turned her away.
“Walk with me,” Angel said as he broke the kiss, lifting her from her perch. He pulled her hand into his and held it tightly as he led her down the stone path, and through the gardens. Flora bloomed in brilliant coloration, vibrant reds, yellows, oranges, and blues lavishing against the deep green backdrop. The aroma was overwhelming, the intense floral scents deluging her senses. As they walked he held her close, the gesture of his arm entwined with hers, their fingers clasped tightly one to the other, protective and endearing.
Roshawn appraised him. “Why did you leave? Obviously, you came to my home to see me, to talk to me and then you ran out. Why do you keep running away from me?”
Angel tossed her a quick glance, then focused his gaze on the landscape surrounding them. “I haven’t been myself lately. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you were the reason I was so out of sorts. I didn’t think I could tell you or that you’d be interested.”
She stopped, turning to stare up at him, her palms resting against his chest. “I was beginning to think you didn’t like me. Every time we ran into each other we kept butting heads. But then that night we danced and when you came to my home and kissed me I felt like we were supposed to be together. It felt right. We felt right.”
Angel smiled. “I like you very much. That’s been the problem. I’ve been thinking you didn’t like me and you’ve been such a nuisance. When I came to your home I was actually there to tell you what I thought about you. I wanted you to leave my father and me alone. You were too much of a distraction and I couldn’t handle it.”
Eyebrows raised, Roshawn eyed him curiously. “Oh? What else had you planned to say to me?”
He grinned, a wave of embarrassment sweeping over him as he shook his head. “I don’t think you want to know. I think if I told you that you might leave and I don’t want you to leave.”
Roshawn smiled. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here because I want to know you. My coming here was as good a place for us to get started as any other.”
“Do you often chase afte
r men you want to get to know?”
“I will do whatever it takes for the right man,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Am I?” Angel asked, stopping to stare down at her. “The right man?”
Roshawn grinned. “I don’t know yet. But I plan to have a great time while I find out.”
Angel pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, his lips lingering against the warmth of her skin. The gesture made her shiver and she drew her other palm along the side of his face. He smiled, the warmth of it filling his face.
“Since we’re setting the record straight, I do owe you an apology,” Roshawn said. “And I need to come clean about something.”
“What?”
She reached to stroke the top of his head, her hands gently caressing his bald flesh. “I butchered your head on purpose but not because I was angry with you. You had beautiful hair, but the style was old. This suits you so much better and I didn’t think you’d go for such a drastic change without a little push in the right direction.”
The man’s mouth dropped open and then he laughed, loudly, the sound rising from somewhere deep in his midsection. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, his own palm caressing the back of her closely shaved head. “We look like two bowling balls,” he chuckled, leaning his cheek against hers.
Roshawn nodded. “I like bowling balls,” she said, laughing with him.
* * *
They continued walking as Angel gave her a tour of the property, guiding her down to the beach. Pulling off her sandals, Roshawn had walked barefoot in the sand, skipping along the shoreline where the water would occasionally rush up to kiss the land. Angel was enthralled by the comfort between them, an easy sharing of space that felt more than natural. He suddenly imagined himself very lost without her and he said so as they strolled hand in hand watching the sun beginning to dip low in the blue sky.
“You’re the first woman who’s ever been here like this. I like it. I like it a lot.”
Love in the Lineup Page 17