For Love or Money

by Britney Beck

  She declined his offer to drive her back to her house, choosing instead to take a guagua in front of the hotel that would drop her off a few meters from her house. As she walked through the village, the stars above her beckoned her attention. She didn’t want to go home just yet. She knew that her mother would be there, wanting to know every detail of her evening. She wanted to put off the interrogation for as long as possible. Veering off the path, she directed herself to the beach, a place she often stopped to think, to find some peace, when she was far away from the Malecon.

  "Off to Italy then?"

  His voice greeted her before she even noticed his presence. He was sitting on the sand, gazing out across the water. She had never encountered someone in her place of solace before. As she studied the way the moonlight grazed along his skin, she wished it could be her caress instead. She couldn’t place what it was about Rafael, but she was drawn to him with such passion that if he turned to ask her in that moment, she would have kissed him.

  "Maybe," she replied, her heart racing. She knew it was unlikely that he felt as strongly for her as she did for him. After all, they had just met and barely knew one another. Even she couldn’t understand the source of her feelings for him. However, she was certain that she wanted to explore them further. When he turned slightly to face her, his lips curved with amusement.

  "You really don't remember me do you?" he asked. His voice was so quiet that the lull of the waves nearly drowned it out.

  "Should I?" Anita asked with bewilderment as he plunked himself down in the sand beside her. Having him sit so close by was strange to her, yet she felt extremely comfortable with him, despite her strong desire to reach out and embrace him. She felt safe with him. To her, nothing else matter at the moment, not even marrying Kevin

  "I don't know. Should you?" he asked playfully. He tilted his head slightly. When their eyes met, he spoke a name she had not heard in at least ten years.

  "YaYa?"

  "Oh don't call me that!" she huffed, and then paused to stare at him. "Wait a minute. Why did you call me that?"

  He smirked, but refused to speak.

  "The only person who ever called me that was the most annoying, pesky little kid that I have ever met," she growled.

  She recalled how that boy would taunt her every day. She knew he was related to Luis, but she had never really connected the two of them. To her, he was just some little brat that insisted on trying to pull her braids.

  "Oh that is so not fair!" Rafael countered.

  She looked over at him with a hint of sharpness. "You were insufferable, prancing around like some kind of princess, just because you were so beautiful."

  "Oh no!" she gasped and glared at him. "You, you were so evil to me. I would run home crying!"

  Raphael tried to hide a smile. "Sorry," he said casually.

  "I can't believe that was you." She clucked her tongue lightly.

  "Are you still a princess?" he asked, leaning back slightly in the sand, his eyes challenging as they met hers.

  "Are you still a brat?" she shot back and scrunched up her nose with distaste.

  "I was in love," he confessed. "As in love as a twelve year old boy could be."

  Anita was silenced by his words. She stared at him. He was reclining in the sand. He looked nothing like the pimply faced little boy that used to chase her down the road.

  "You are still a brat!" she insisted.

  She wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive her childhood tormentor.

  "And you're still a princess," he voiced in a deep and throaty laugh, "about to be whisked away by her Italian prince."

  "I'm not a princess!" she exclaimed firmly.

  "No?" he asked, arching a brow. "You look like a princess to me."

  Before he could even complete his admiration of her, Anita pressed her lips to his. The sudden kiss was as much a surprise to her as it was to him. She had been thinking about doing it, about tasting those tempting lips, but somehow the thought had sprung into action, without her conscious permission. She surrendered to her passions and weaknesses, awakening the hot Latina blood flowing through her veins. As if timid about revealing her seductive side, she started to pull back, but his hands were already around her back, just beneath her shoulder blades, drawing her closer into the kiss.

  She was nearly sprawled on top of him, their bodies illuminated by the moonlight, their breaths mingling with the subtle rush of the waves against the sand.

  Suddenly Anita became aware of what she was doing and the implications of her behavior. She pulled back from Rafael's lips and stared with horror down at him.

  “Was it that bad for you?” he questioned in a light-hearted manner after observing her expression. She stumbled to her feet, muttering inaudible words. He rose as well before she could escape him.

  “Anita, wait,” he pleaded as he grasped her wrist gently.

  “I shouldn't have done that,” she admitted. She was panicking.

  “Why?” he asked, drawing her closer to him. “Why shouldn't you do what you feel?”

  In the moonlight, he appeared every inch the caliente lover that most women found irresistible.

  He brushed his lips softly along the outline of her cheek. “I can feel it too,” he murmured. “You can't deny that we were meant to be together, Anita.”

  He was panting so deeply that his heart was ready to explode in his chest. When she pulled her hand from his grip, his shoulders slumped. “So I am not some foreign millionaire. That’s it, isn’t it? I overheard the neighbors talking.”

  His eyes were flashing wilding.

  “I can’t believe that you have been listening to the gossip about me! Don’t you have enough crates of avocadoes to load during the day to keep you busy enough?”

  His remarks had hurt her and she wanted to return the favor. Shame burned her cheeks. Was he implying that she was a jinetera?

  “What is it that you really want, Anita? Do you want to go off and be something for him to drape over his arm? Would you want me only if I had a lot of money? Does it matter to you that I am working hard in order to support my uncle? I guess it doesn’t. I would never be as rich as your Italian prince. I would never be good enough for you,” he accused.

  His voice traveled to her in the wind. She couldn’t help but notice the sadness and hopelessness it carried.

  Anita was too upset to continue in his presence. She fled the beach in uncertainty. He didn’t understand her at all. She wasn’t like that. She could have turned back and tried to explain all of this to him, but first she needed to sort out her own feelings. As she ran across the sand, she could feel him staring after her.

  The next morning she awoke to a lovely scent. It was floral and sweet. She had never smelled anything so lovely before. Slowly she opened her eyes, only to discover that her entire room was filled with flowers. Not just a few vases here and there, but flowers on every possible surface of the small room. She sat up in her bed, her eyes wide with surprise and found Kevin standing in the doorway. He beamed at her and gestured to the flowers.

  “Anything you desire,” he murmured before carefully stepping through the flowers in order to reach her bedside. Anita pinched her arm, attempting to convince herself that she was no longer asleep. Then he knelt down beside her bed.

  “I realized that I had not asked you properly.”

  He pulled a ring box from his pocket. Anita held her breath as he lifted it into the air above her. “Anita, will you be my wife?” he asked gently.

  Outside her room, she could hear the tittering of laughter and whispers. She knew her family was listening at the door and expecting her to say yes. She knew that it was everything they had dreamed of for her. Finally they were seeing someone in their family with the chance to be successful, even though this achievement came in the form of marrying someone rich.

  “Will you?” he asked again, pushing just a little bit with his tone.

  “Yes,” Anita heard herself reply. She felt as if she was simp
ly a casual observer sitting across the room, rather than lying at his side, watching as he opened the ring box. A giant diamond sparkle inside. She was certain that it was worth a small fortune. Still, she would have found the moment more memorable and meaningful if there had been a similar sparkle in his eyes when he had shown it to her. Instead, he looked simply relieved.

  He had been grinning since she consented to marry him. Then, without hesitation, he leaned forward and crushed his lips to hers. The kiss was forceful and demanding. It was fervent, but for reasons that did not make sense to Anita. When he pulled away, there were tears in her eyes.

  “I didn't think you would be so happy.”

  Kevin assumed her tears were from joy. He smiled proudly as he slid the ring onto her slender finger.

  Her family surged into the room, crying out in jubilation at the sight of Anita, who was finally engaged and destined for the life they had always wanted for her. But none of them asked her what she wanted.

  As soon as she could, Anita fled from the house. All around her, her family and neighbors were bubbling with excitement, but she could only fake it for so long. The only reason she had accepted the proposal was because everyone wanted it so badly. The moment Kevin kissed her, she knew that there could be nothing between them. The idea of kissing him for the rest of her life made her cringe inside. Compared to what she had shared with Rafael on the beach the night before, it was like kissing a corpse. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She was now certain that she was meant to be with Rafael and not Kevin. Still, that didn’t make things easier for her.

  She ran all the way to the Catedral de San Cristóbal de la Habana. She wasn’t very religious, but she needed a safe place to clear her mind. She didn’t want to return to the beach, for fear of encountering Raphael once more.

  Her entire family was depending on the decision that she would make. She felt torn. Should she marry for love or for money? Rafael wouldn’t be what they were expecting, but he was what she had been waiting for. Had she known it when they were kids? Was he the reason she had waited?

  She threw herself down on the steps of the cathedral and pressed her face against her folded arms and wept openly before the sacred place. She had spent her life being promised that her beauty would be the reason for her joy. But at that moment, she would have traded all of it, for the sake of knowing the truth. She was sure that Kevin wouldn’t have looked twice at her, if not for her features. But Rafael, he had known her when she was just a girl and had seen her beauty even then. He had fallen in love with her, not for how she looked, but for who she was. That was something she would never experience with Kevin.

  “I'm sorry,” Rafael said from beside her. He had been quietly sitting down on the steps next to her, watching her weep. Anita looked up with surprise, tears still fresh in her eyes.

  “I followed you,” he admitted when he noted the confusion on her face. “I saw you running off and I followed you.”

  “What are you sorry for?” she asked.

  He reached out and wiped away each tear that streamed down her face. “I’m sorry that I ever came back into your life, Anita. If I had known it was going to cause you so much pain, I swear, I never would have.”

  Anita stared at him. She saw the crease of his brow and the tension of his lips. She knew that he was telling her the truth. He would be willing to trade his chance with her if it meant that she would never shed a tear.

  “Don't be sorry,” she whispered. “You reminded me of who I really am.”

  He laughed, not with joy, but rather with regret. He grasped her hand gently in his own. “But it's far too late, isn't it?” he asked as he brushed his thumb lightly over the engagement ring on her finger.

  She looked down at the ring.

  “No,” she replied calmly.

  “Anita,” he breathed as he leaned his forehead gently against hers. “I can never give you a ring like that. I can never whisk you away to new countries. I can never promise you a life of luxury. All I can promise you is that, from the first moment till the last moment, I will know that you are the most beautiful woman in Cuba.”

  His words struck her hard as she realized how deeply he meant them. It would never matter to Raphael if her beauty faded or changed with age. It would never matter to him if she grew a huge pregnant belly. He would never look at her with any less adoration in his eyes. To her, that was luxury. To her, that was being rich.

  “It is you I want,” she murmured. He lifted his head slightly and waited for her to look up into his eyes. “It's you I want,” she repeated, meeting his dark eyes with so much desire that his lips found hers before either could speak another word.

  When Anita returned to her home, she found her family full of concern. She sighed as her mother began mentioning the wedding plans.

  “Yes, Mama. I am getting married,” she said gently. She tugged the ring off her finger and continued, “on the beach, with my family and friends around me, to a man who loves me because of who I am, not because of what I look like.”

  She set the ring in the middle of the small kitchen table. The way it glittered against the dingy surface reminded them all of the extreme wealth Kevin possessed. But it also made them recall all that they had shared around the rickety old table, especially the wonderful memories. Mr Garcia remembered taking it away from his office before the government of Batista was overthrown. To him, it had grown to represent fortitude. It was also the table his wife had used to bathe all the children. They had grown so big that they now sit around it. They shared many meals on that table, even though the food was meagre. At that moment, they suddenly realized that the diamond ring held no real value for them. Not as long as they had each other.

  “I want to stay here, with you,” she said.

  Empty faces stared back at her. She was too nervous to note their expression.

  “I am sorry if I am disappointing you, but I just can’t live the dream you want me to live,” she admitted.

  “You are everything we ever hoped you would be,” her father said as he embraced her. “Anita, we wanted only the best for you, but maybe, along the way, we all lost sight of the difference between wealth and value.”

  “Who do you plan on marrying then?” questioned one of her sisters.

  “Raphael.”

  “Who?” the entire family asked.

  “Mr Luis’ nephew,” she responded.

  “You mean that guy who drives around in the cart with crates of avocadoes?” queried her sister in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “I think that he is a fine, hard working young man. You would never go a day feeling hungry,” mused her father.

  Anita looked at her mother, who had not said a word since she had made her confession.

  Mrs Garcia sighed wryly.

  “So you love this young man?’

  “Yes, Mama. More than life itself.”

  Her mother paused. Anita heart had stopped beating during the entire time.

  “Well have him come over for lunch then. I want to meet my future son-in-law.”

  The rest of the family cheered. Anita gleamed and ran over to hug her mother.

  “A wedding by the sea,” her mother gushed. “Oh we must start planning!”

  She began to crowd her daughters and soon everyone became exhilarated, including Anita.

  Kevin never returned to her small home. She phoned the hotel, but he had already checked out. Perhaps it was when she had run off that he realized she would never be what he wanted. He chose her, but she had not asked to be chosen. She got his address from the hotel and mailed the ring back to him, but never got any response.

  Anita did get her dream wedding after all, which was paid in full with a lifetime of love.

  THE END

  For Love

  or

  Money

  Copyright 2013, Britney Beck

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purel
y coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.