The woman at her side was chattering nonstop, first at Roshawn, then on her cell phone, and then back at Roshawn. “You are going to love this next home. It hasn’t been on the market long and I can tell you, darling, it’s not going to last long. It’s a true beauty. The owners are extremely motivated so Mr. Rios would be able to close quickly.”
“How quickly is quickly?” Roshawn asked, tossing a glance in the woman’s direction.
“Very quickly. Obviously, there should be a home inspection, and of course, your attorney will need time to ensure the title is clear for transfer, but I imagine, that he could easily close within thirty days. Forty-five max, especially since Mr. Rios doesn’t have to bother with a mortgage contingency. Cash moves things quite quickly!” she exclaimed, her excitement at the prospect of a cash sale and her sizeable commission gleaming from her eyes. The woman excused herself to answer her ringing cell phone.
Roshawn nodded, turning her focus back to thoughts of her and Angel living together as a family. The possibility was engaging and overwhelming as Roshawn played out every possible scenario of their being together in her head. Minutes later, the agent turned into a private community of four hilltop homes, pointing at the house that lay ahead of them.
Roshawn knew before she stepped one foot into the home that she would raise their child there. She would love her Angel there, see her daughter married in the gardens that lay outside, welcome her friends and family were they ever to visit, mourn her losses there, and live out as many of her days within the confines of its walls as she possibly could. It would be the place she would call home. Because with no uncertainty, as the real estate agent pulled past the private gate up the winding, tree-lined drive that led to the residence, Roshawn knew it was where she and Angel were meant to live and love each other beyond reason. The sheer magnitude of that fact hit her so hard that it took every ounce of her stamina to stall the wave of emotion that shot through her and keep the floodwaters of her tears from falling like much needed rain.
Located within the shadow of Camelback Mountain, the Tuscan-style architecture exuded an old world charm that was reminiscent of the grand architecture of the Dominican Republic. She had no doubts that Angel and his father would be instantly drawn to the stunning views of the rugged desert mountains and sparkling city lights that shimmered off in the distance.
As she stepped through the doorway, her mouth dropped open in awe. It was more than even she could have imagined, she thought as she rushed from room to room, completely ignoring the woman who raced behind her, expelling her sales pitch with each breath as she struggled to maintain a plastered grin across her pale face. Eventually, it dawned on her that Roshawn was far from interested in anything she had to say and so she let the woman wander alone, exploring at her own pace, while she herself retreated back outside to negotiate another sure deal on her cell phone.
Roshawn was enamoured with the beautiful stonework and the hand-carved cabinetry with its impeccable craftsmanship and attention to the most infinite detail that lent a timeless elegance to the home. She kneeled to brush her palm against the gorgeous travertine flooring that extended throughout the public areas of the home, and then again over the hand-hewn red oak floors that decorated the family room, library and office space. The entertaining areas were grand-scale and included a wet bar, wine room and outdoor kitchen with an adjacent alfresco sports bar and nearly two thousand square feet of covered patios.
She stood fantasizing about the possibilities the amazing infinity-edge pool with its cascading waterfall would afford them. She could only imagine for the moment what she and Angel could do in that pool and as she did she found herself breathing heavily with wanting. Shaking the images from her mind she moved on to the theater-style media room and the enormous chef’s kitchen with Viking appliances that she could see herself and Israel both fighting to commandeer. Two separate wings afforded more than enough privacy for father and son, each boasting individual master suites, with lavish baths and magnificent his and her walk-in closets, plus private office space that Roshawn could have easily seen transformed into a nursery. A third wing housed three additional bedrooms, a third office area and exercise room. From start to finish the property was a complete work of art. And even with the magnitude of its substantial size, it exuded a warmth and comfort like no other she’d seen before it.
As she stepped back outside the agent ended her call, her grin returning to full bloom. “What did you think? Don’t you just love it? This house is a definite showpiece.”
Roshawn nodded. “I think he’ll be very pleased.”
“How soon do you think you can get him here to look at it? I’m available any time.”
“I’d like to bring Mr. Rios by later this evening. He’s playing a game in an hour but I’m sure he and his father would be available afterwards.”
The woman nodded. “Darling, I’ll tell you what. No one else is scheduled to show the house until later this week. Take the keys, bring them by at your convenience, and then call me so we can get the paperwork started. And please, extend my congratulations to Mr. Rios.”
Roshawn smiled her gratitude, bemused by the woman’s assumptions as the thin redhead dropped the keys into her hand, spinning back in the direction of her car. As they made their exit down the length of driveway, Roshawn couldn’t help but turn back one last time for one more lingering look at the house she instinctively knew would eventually be her new home.
* * *
After making four quick stops and returning to the house to prepare for the evening, Roshawn hurried to change out of her Diane Von Furstenberg dress and then raced back to the stadium for the game. She was anxious to see Angel, so much so that she made use of John Chen’s position to gain entry through the players’ entrance and into the rear elevators to meet him outside the locker room doors. She waited anxiously for the team to exit, making their way through the tunnel, into the dugout, and up onto the pristine field.
Angel could not have missed her standing there if he had wanted to. She leaned easily against the wall, her hands pushed into the pockets of her hip-hugging jeans and the blue silk halter top shimmering against her dark complexion. Her head was newly shaven, her makeup meticulous and she exuded an aura of staunch confidence, sensual elegance and raw sexuality.
Not only did Angel notice her, but so did the other players who stared with blatant appreciation. Angel was slightly taken aback when one or two catcalled for her attention and he made a mental note to put them all in check the first chance he had. He wasn’t about to have any other man show his woman an ounce of disrespect.
He moved quickly to her side and kissed her boldly. “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to say thank-you for the beautiful roses and wish you a good game.”
Before he could respond the team’s manager was calling his name. “Rios, let’s go! We’ve got a game to play!”
Roshawn kissed him quickly. “I love you. Go hit my home run. I’ll be right here waiting for you after the game,” she smiled.
“Rios! Now!”
Angel gave her a quick wink as he rushed in the direction of the chiding voice. Up in the bleachers, Israel was holding a seat for her, his Titans baseball cap marking the reserved spot. As she approached him, he jumped up to embrace her, hugging her tightly before they both sat down, that cap comfortably back on his head.
“Holá, Papí,” Roshawn said, greeting him warmly. “How are you?”
“I am a very happy man. My son has found love and now I shall have a daughter, a granddaughter, and very soon, a grandson.”
Roshawn laughed, saying nothing as she shook her head. The old man laughed with her, joy shining in his eyes. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers.
“So, what did you think of Santo Domingo?” the old man asked, his gaze shifting between the two teams warming up on the field.
“I loved it. I had a wonderful time with Angel. Your sister was so welcoming and you do have an incredibl
e home.”
The man beamed as he patted her knee, his eyes still locked on the activity below. Roshawn watched him for a few minutes as his gaze skated back and forth, his attention focused on Angel who stood in center field catching and throwing the ball back and forth with his teammates as they warmed up. She smiled as she allowed him his time, his mind clearly lost on following every minute of activity surrounding the game. Her name being called made her turn to look up in the bleachers and she tossed her hand up in greeting as Nina waved excitedly, settling herself down next to her old pal Cedric.
Israel cleared his throat, heaving a deep sigh as the team ran off the field into the dugout, the announcer preparing them for the start of the game. Within minutes, the Titans and their opponents were lined up on the field for the national anthem. On this night the song was being sung by one of the choirs from the local high school. As they all stood at attention, hands and hats resting over hearts, Israel sang with them, respect for the waving red, white and blue flag gracing his expression.
As the song ended, he reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Angel must have a good night tonight. He must do well,” he said, his tone almost pleading.
Roshawn squeezed back, reaching to wrap an arm around the old man’s shoulders. “He will do just fine. His mind is focused and he promised me a home run.”
Israel laughed. “He promised me one also.”
She grinned. “Then I guess that means he’s going to get two good hits tonight, Papí.”
Israel beamed. “I guess that does,” he said excitedly as the first ball was finally pitched and the beginning of the game commenced.
Patrick made his way to Angel’s side, the two men staring out to the field from the dugout. The game had not started well, both pitchers shutting out the first three innings. As the Titans took their fourth inning turn at bat, the trend seemed to be continuing as the first two batters struck out at home plate. As the third batter eased up into the batter’s box, both men couldn’t help but wish for a better outcome.
“So, you feeling good tonight, Angel?” Patrick asked.
The man nodded. “I’m feeling very good.” He tossed the man a quick look and smile before refocusing on what was happening on the field. The umpire had called a time out as the two opposing coaches met him midfield for a brief powwow.
“How are you and Roshawn doing?” Patrick ventured to ask.
Angel grinned and nodded his head, not bothering to comment further. Patrick grinned with him as he gave him a tap on the shoulder. Returning their attention to the game, both watched as the batter hit a high fastball, sending the first hit of the night over the right fielder’s head. Both cheered as the man made it easily to first base and poised himself ready to head to second. The following batter took his first strike as Angel readied himself to bat next. With two outs, one man on base, and a second possible hit coming, Angel wanted to be prepared. He palmed the gold cross and his mother’s wedding band, which hung from a heavy gold chain around his neck. Saying a quick prayer, he pulled the crucifix to his lips then tucked the jewelry down into his jersey to lay securely against his chest. On his third swing the batter clipped the ball just hard enough to send it sailing toward the shortstop. The ball took a hard hop on the grass surface, rolling out of the man’s reach and enabled the Titans’ two runners to make it safely to first and second base. The crowd cheered with anticipation as Angel stepped up to the plate, swinging his bat back and forth over his shoulders.
Both Roshawn and Israel leaned forward in their seats, their hands clenched in prayer before them. Both were eyeing Angel anxiously, silently wishing him success as they watched the first pitch sail by him, the umpire calling it a ball.
“Ball two!” the man chimed at the second pitch. Angel stepped back out of the box and gave the pitcher an annoyed look.
Roshawn muttered under her breath. “It’s too early to start playing games, boys. Pitch the ball and let the man hit.” She jumped to her feet and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Pitch the ball!”
“Ball three!”
She tossed up her hands, ire gracing her face. She would be furious if they walked Angel on purpose, blatantly denying him the opportunity to put the bat on the ball. A second time-out was called as a coach walked to the pitcher’s mound to have a conversation with his pitcher.
Roshawn continued to rant. “I can’t believe this. They’re scared. That’s why they’re not pitching to him.”
A man behind her joined in. “They’re not pitching because that fool can’t pitch. He was a real waste of their budget. They could have hired me for all the good he is!” The woman beside him laughed at his intensity as he continued to rant along with Roshawn.
“Let’s play ball!” someone else screamed at the top of their lungs.
Angel eased back into batting position, his eyes locking with the pitcher’s. The man sneered and Angel laughed, challenging him as he winked an eye in the player’s direction. Angel saw it the minute the man released his hold on the ball. The pitch was as near perfect as any he’d ever seen. He watched it as it left the tips of the pitcher’s fingers, sailing sweetly in his direction. He shifted, dipped his left shoulder ever so slightly and swung. The sound of the wooden bat splintering was music to Angel’s ears as he watched the ball sail back in the other direction, flying straight down the center of the field and over the back fence. The subsequent rush of water from the cannons announced what everyone else had already known. The Titans had the lead, three runs to zero, thanks to the home-run hit of one Angel Rios. As Angel rounded the bases, the audience cheered and Roshawn and Israel both danced in their seats.
“That one was mine, niña!” Israel chimed, clapping his hands.
Roshawn laughed. “I beg your pardon. That one was mine!”
As Angel touched home plate, his team there to greet him, his smile embodied the intensity of his emotions. He acknowledged his fans as he jogged off the field, waving his gratitude. His gaze scanned the seats where his father and his woman stood supporting him. He gave a quick nod in their direction, wishing he could jump into the stands to embrace them both. As he took a seat on the bench, players still tapping him against the back and congratulating him, Angel struggled not to let his emotions get the best of him, moisture rising behind his eyelids as relief flooded through his person. He nodded, pleased with himself, his confidence resurfacing with a vengeance. Angel Rios was back and once again he was a force that would have to be reckoned with.
Chapter 21
Roshawn stood alone as she waited for Angel to finish in the locker room. Israel had feigned exhaustion, wanting to give the two of them time alone. Although Roshawn had begged him to stay, to join them for dinner and a tour of the house she hoped would be their home, he had declined, securing a ride with Nina. Before his departure he had visited the locker room to congratulate his son, pride gleaming over his expression for all to witness. Emotion had rained down his face as he had hugged his son, then Roshawn, as he made his way out the door. His joy had been so endearing that Roshawn had found it almost impossible to fight back her own tears. By the time Angel made his way to her side, the moment had passed and her bright smile had returned, greeting him warmly as he pulled her into his arms.
“So, how did I do?” Angel asked, his arm wrapped around her waist as they headed for the exit.
Roshawn shrugged, rolling her eyes skyward. “I guess you did okay.”
He laughed. “Just okay? That’s all I get?”
She grinned. “You did great!”
He shook his head and laughed with her, the two of them enjoying the moment of light bantering. “So, where would you like to eat?”
“I made plans for us already. I have a surprise for you.”
Eyebrows raised, Angel looked at her curiously. “A surprise?”
She smiled coyly. “A good surprise.”
“I like surprises,” he said as they stepped out into the warm evening air.
A crowd of fans were
gathered in wait, all cheering as Angel stepped out into the light. He smiled in greeting, tossing a hand up to wave as he led the way toward the car, pulling Roshawn behind him.
“Don’t you want to sign autographs?” Roshawn asked, as she pulled the car keys from his hand and headed to the driver’s side of the vehicle.
Angel shook his head no. “Not tonight. I just want to get away from the noise and be alone with you.”
Roshawn unlocked the doors to the SUV and relocked them as they got inside.
“Where’s your car?” he asked, looking around the parking deck.
“Nina took it. She drove your dad back to my house for the evening. Patrick is picking her up there and you can pick Israel up when you drop me off.”
He nodded. “So where are we off to?”
She grinned as she started the ignition and pulled out of the space. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?”
He sighed, waving again as they pulled past the spectators and cameras that still stood staring their way.
As Roshawn pulled into traffic she looked in his direction. Angel’s head was bobbing easily in time to the music on the radio and he looked relaxed. She inhaled deeply, relishing the fresh scent of the soap and body spray that he’d just bathed in. When he reached his arm across the back of the driver’s seat and lightly brushed his fingers against the back of her neck, the moment felt natural and comfortable and Roshawn could just imagine what longevity could do for their relationship. She smiled as she realized he was staring at her. She cast another quick gaze toward him and he smiled back.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, her gaze flickering from the rearview mirror, to the road, to Angel, and back to the road.
“I was thinking about how beautiful you are. You are like a precious gemstone—rare, and delicate, and unique. I will have to handle you very carefully. I would not want anything to ever happen to you.”
Love in the Lineup Page 23