Love Tango

by J. M. Jeffries

  “I’m out. Our children hate us. I hate us. What have we turned into?”

  “Obviously you turned into something else, into someone else,” Hannah said nastily as she pounded the photo of his other family with a finger. “You betrayed me, have done so for years.”

  “We live from paycheck to paycheck. Our home is mortgaged to the hilt. You wanted a dynasty and instead we have sawdust in our shoes.”

  Hannah scoffed. “Is that your excuse for dallying with another woman?”

  Eli sighed. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I just needed a vacation from the intensity. We could argue in divorce court for the next two years. Let Portia and Tristan go. You can start over.”

  Hannah slumped, defeat in her eyes. “Go back to your mistress. I can take care of myself.” She glared at Trudy. “All right, we’ll drop the lawsuit.”

  Trudy handed them a folder asking them to sign an official agreement. Her mother stabbed the pen at the paper as she angrily added her signature. She shoved the folder at Eli, stood and stalked from the room.

  Roxanne didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her mother was gone.

  “I’m sorry, Roxanne, Portia,” Eli said sadly. “Portia, I know you want to go to school. I wish you luck, Tristan. I think you’re right, you belong on Broadway.” He took a deep breath, stood and left the room.

  Roxanne was stunned. “I was not expecting them to yield like this.” She’d expected a war of epic proportions and felt a bit deflated. Though she had the feeling that no matter what, her mother would land on her feet.

  Portia stared at her. “We’re all free!”

  Roxanne felt drained. She nodded, indicating the court reporter who sat so still and silently in the corner of the room trying to remain unnoticed. “It’s all documented.”

  Roxanne’s investments would take a minor hit, but as her new business grew, she’d be fine.

  Portia looked tense. “I thought I’d be happier.” She started to cry.

  Tristan hugged her. “I know. I feel the same way.”

  Roxanne simply felt tired. She wanted to go home and hide. She turned to Nick and he put his arms around her, as though he knew exactly how she felt.

  “Let’s go home,” Donna said. “Portia and Tristan, you come, too.”

  Chapter 12

  Nick escorted Roxanne into the restaurant. He felt nervous trying to figure out how to talk to his mother about her father.

  “Are you sure you want to present this information in this manner?” Roxanne asked in the reception area.

  “Trust me, my mother is the kind who just rips the bandage off and gets to the source.”

  For midweek, the restaurant was busy. Roxanne looked around curiously.

  “This way,” Nick said gesturing toward the back of the restaurant to an area that was closed off from the main dining area by a half wall filled with potted plants.

  His brothers had already arrived. Daniel grinned and waved at Nick. Next to him sat his fiancée, Greer. Nick’s mother stood at the sideboard checking the food and talking to a waitress who nodded and turned to head back toward the kitchen. Matteus sat in a corner facing the room, his cop senses on alert as always. Sebastian held a deck of cards and was showing their father, Manny, his newest sleight of hand trick. Rafael, the youngest brother in the family, had called to cancel, citing a problem with one of his clients.

  Grace looked up at Nick’s arrival, her glance pausing a moment on Roxanne. A smile appeared on her face and she glided to Nick, gave him a kiss on the cheek and directed him to the end of the table with two plates.

  “So,” Grace said, “tell me what this meeting is all about.” Again her gaze lingered on Roxanne who set her briefcase against her leg.

  All eyes turned expectantly toward Nick.

  “You know Roxanne Deveraux.”

  Grace nodded politely. “Roxanne, how nice to see you again.”

  “I had this idea...” Nick swallowed nervously. “I planned a family genealogy to give as Christmas gifts to everyone and asked Roxanne to do it.”

  “How interesting,” Grace said her face alighted with curiosity. “I’ve always been curious about my family.”

  Nick looked at Roxanne and she smiled at him, opened her briefcase and brought out her charts.

  “One of the side issues of a genealogical search is that family secrets stop being secrets.” Roxanne opened the folder. “And before I go on—” she glanced at Nick nervously “—one item is rather sensitive. I wanted to excuse myself, but Nick...”

  “Roxanne has all the answers,” Nick said.

  Grace’s eyebrows rose. “I see,” she said cautiously. “How sensitive is this, and is this going to make me cry?”

  Roxanne didn’t know what to say.

  “I don’t think you’ll cry, but I wanted to do this more privately,” Nick said, “but the right time never seemed to come around.”

  Grace patted Nick’s face. “Whatever secret that has you in knots, I can take it. Nick, do you trust Roxanne?”

  “I do,” he said.

  Grace nodded. “You’ve put a lot of work into this. Why don’t you start and we’ll see how it goes.”

  Roxanne laid the charts out in order. “We’re going to work our way from the earliest evidence of your family I found to the present.”

  “This is exciting.” Grace sat down looking expectant.

  Roxanne handed her a drawing. “This is a drawing of your ancestor, Yasmin Portrero.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Grace said.

  “She was the daughter of a man who was originally a sailor on a Spanish ship captured by English privateers, brought to England, assimilated into English society and eventually became a merchant. I haven’t been able to locate his full name, but Yasmin appears to have been his only child and she’s unique in that she married Sir John Wickes, a captain of the guard to Queen Elizabeth.” Roxanne handed Grace a copy of the marriage vows listed in a church document.

  “I come from English nobility?” Grace looked excited. “How far away am I from inheriting the throne of England?”

  Nick laughed. Just like his mother to pick up on the obvious.

  “Thousands will have to die,” Roxanne said with a chuckle. “Yasmin and Sir John Wickes had several children and lived at Hampton Court. I don’t know if she had any official position in the court, but I do know she is listed as a seamstress for the queen.”

  “They’re black people, living next door to the queen. Was she a slave?”

  “Most blacks during Elizabeth’s time were captured sailors from Spanish ships. There’s no record that Yasmin or her father were slaves. Some sailors returned to Spain, but many others stayed. At one time Queen Elizabeth felt that all the blacks—or blackamoors, as she called them—should be sent back to Spain because of their ties to Catholicism. But Yasmin’s father most likely converted to the Church of England which is why he stayed.” Roxanne shuffled through her charts.

  “I didn’t know there were blacks in England at this time.”

  “The first blacks showed up around 1550 and created a thriving community in London. Some were merchants, some were soldiers and some were servants.” Roxanne glanced at Nick. “Don’t get me wrong, life was hard for them and they did suffer, but then most of England suffered. Bathing was practically unknown and hygiene was minimal at best. And while dentists did exist, they mostly just pulled teeth.”

  “Wow,” Grace said as she glanced through the charts and documents Roxanne had given her. “How did my ancestors get here?”

  Roxanne gave her another document. “We have a gap in information. While I could find the names of Yasmin’s and Sir John’s descendants, no information about them appears to exist until a Dr. Charles Stanton immigrated to Philadelphia from London where he open
ed a medical school for black students.”

  “I know I was born in Philadelphia, and grew up in Atlanta. I also know my birth name was Grace Stanton.”

  “That brings us to the other interesting fact about your family tree.” Roxanne handed her a copy of a marriage license. She glanced at Nick and he nodded for her to go on.

  “If you’re worried, I already knew that Al wasn’t my biological father.” Grace glanced through the next set of documents. “My mother told me my biological father died when I was a baby.”

  “This is where the sensitive information comes in,” Roxanne said nervously. “I’ll excuse myself and let Nick tell you.”

  Grace studied Roxanne. “You already know this and I’m sure you’ve dealt with sensitive issues before. I think you should stay. After all, you did all the work.”

  Roxanne glanced at Nick. His turn had come. “Mom.” He took a deep breath. “Your father, Lionel Stanton, is still alive and he lives in Pasadena.”

  Grace looked shocked. She shook her head. “You’re kidding me.” She glanced back and forth between Roxanne and Nick.

  Nick shook his head. This was harder than he thought it would be. “Not kidding you, Mom. I met him...”

  “You met him...”

  “I wanted to tell you first. I felt I owed you, but I ended up telling Sebastian and Daniel and we decided... Well, it just sort of happened and I ended up taking everyone but Nina and Lola to meet him yesterday.”

  Grace looked confused. “My mother told me he died.”

  “Here are the divorce papers.” Roxanne slid a folder toward Grace.

  Grace read through the papers. “This can’t be right.” She looked sad and vulnerable. Nick didn’t know how to comfort her.

  “I’m afraid it is,” Roxanne said gently.

  “Why would my mother lie to me?” Grace’s voice trembled.

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Nick replied. She couldn’t even ask since her mother had passed away several years ago. “I called Grandpa Al and asked him, but he said your mom never said a word about Lionel and he never asked.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Tears slid down her cheeks. Manny put an arm around Grace and held her tightly.

  “He wants to meet with you,” Nick said.

  “Did he tell you why?” Grace clutched Manny’s hand and wiped her tears.

  Nick shook his head. “He said he would only tell you. Are you okay?”

  Grace pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I have a lot to think about.”

  “You don’t have to meet with him,” Manny said.

  “Of course I do. He’s my father. What about Lola and Nina?”

  “They both know. We had to talk Nina out of waddling herself down here. Lola said she’d be home on Sunday.”

  Grace was silent for several moments. “Set up a meeting.”

  Nick nodded at Roxanne. She reached down into her briefcase and pulled out a scrapbook. She handed the book to Nick and he handed it to his mother.

  “Lionel gave me this,” Nick explained. “He wanted you to see it.”

  Grace opened the scrapbook, her face taking on a look of wonder. Nick had been astonished when he’d first viewed the scrapbook. Inside was every news story, every review and every bit of information Lionel had been able to find about Grace.

  Tears formed in Grace’s eyes. She stood, clutched the scrapbook to her chest and left, walking swiftly through the dining room toward her office. Manny stood and started to follow his wife.

  “Dad,” Nick said. He hated seeing his mother hurt like this.

  “Stay. Eat your dinner. I’ll deal with your mother. Everything will be fine.” Manny made his way across the dining room in Grace’s wake.

  “Wow,” Daniel said. “I’m not sure how I expected that to go.”

  “It went better than I thought it would,” Nick responded.

  Roxanne gathered up all the documents and put them back in her briefcase. “I told you. Secrets have a way of coming out.”

  “Do you think she’s mad at us?” Sebastian asked.

  “She needs to process. This is big news.” Nick turned to Roxanne. “Do these things happen to you all the time?”

  “Without giving any names, a religious leader discovered that his great-grandmother was a madam, a bootlegger and a prominent crime figure in New Jersey during Prohibition.”

  Matteus laughed. “I’ll bet that was a surprise.”

  “And then there were the assorted cousins who married cousins,” Roxanne continued, “and in my own family, a black widow who spent her life murdering her husbands. You never know where something will lead.”

  “At least we have some nobility in our background.”

  “Minor nobility,” Roxanne said.

  “Let’s eat,” Nick said. “I think cocktails are in order.”

  “Lots of cocktails,” Daniel said.

  * * *

  “Thank you for your support tonight,” Nick told Roxanne as she unlocked the kitchen door. Portia and Donna were out and they would have the house to themselves.

  “I’m sorry your mother was upset, but I think she’s going to see this as a chance for something new and exciting.”

  “You did warn me. My mother is always optimistic.”

  She stepped into the kitchen, turning on the overhead light. “At least I got a terrific meal.”

  “You did.” Nick held her tight, his breath warm on her cheek. “I need some alone time with you.”

  “You got it.” She smiled as she led him up the stairs to her bedroom.

  * * *

  Alone time with Nick became more rare as the dance competition really started to heat up. Roxanne’s life became more rehearsal, longer and more complicated routines and exhausted muscles.

  She sat on the floor while Nick massaged the cramp from her calf.

  “Tonight is the big night.” She was amazed she’d lasted to the end.

  “In more ways than one,” Nick said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Celebrity Dance has been renewed for two more seasons.”

  Roxanne sat stunned. “Really?”

  “You’ll never be a great dancer, but the audience loves you. And tonight you and I have a real shot at winning the trophy. And Mike wants you to come back for the next season as a celebrity judge.”

  She scoffed. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” She already had several new clients and she wanted to get back to her business. She didn’t know how much time she would have to commit to the show, but then again she’d just done ten weeks of intense rehearsal and still kept her business on track. She could probably handle being a judge easily enough.

  He leaned in and kissed her. “You know a whole lot more than you think you do.”

  “The audience will think I’m there because I’m sleeping with you.” She circled her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. He’d come to mean so much more than just a dance partner and business associate. Every moment spent with Nick left her wanting more.

  He kissed her again, a long lingering kiss. “We are sleeping together.” He paused, thinking. “What would happen if we were married to each other?”

  “Is that a proposal?” Was he really proposing to her? Her heart raced with excitement.

  “Yes. I love you,” he said.

  She leaned into him. “I love you, too.” Something inside her blossomed and grew.

  “That ‘I love you’ was a bit tentative.” He sat back on his heels.

  “I have no idea how to make a marriage work. The only model I have is my parents.” And what a disaster that was.

  “On what not to do,” Nick said. “If you think your parents would do something, then don’t do it. And my parents are great ro
le models. If I do something stupid and you ask my mom and dad about it, they won’t cut me any slack. They’ll give you an honest answer and me a swift kick. So what’s your answer.”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He hugged her. “Okay. Back to rehearsal.”

  Roxanne groaned.

  * * *

  Roxanne watched the monitors. Her parents were in the audience, along with Portia, Tristan and Donna. Even her father’s mistress, Carmen, and her two children decided to attend. Portia said her mother had presented some sort of funky idea of being one big family to them and Carmen was apparently interested. Roxanne hoped the two children weren’t going to be involved.

  Her heart fluttered nervously. Tonight’s dance was the tango and she’d practiced and practiced the complicated dance routine wanting to excel at it.

  Her costume was a slinky teal-and-green dress with fringe that hugged every curve on her body and showed more skin than she was usually comfortable with. The stylist had arranged her hair into a complicated tangle of curls with a mass of feathers embedded in the curls.

  “Breathe,” Nick said.

  “But...”

  “Just breathe and don’t think about the other dancers.”

  They were last and each moment added to her anxiety.

  “Are you ready to win this?” Nick tugged her hand.

  She caressed his cheek. “I already did win. I won you.”

  The orchestra cued their music and Roxanne had one last moment to breathe before being pulled to the dance floor. The audience erupted into loud applause and whistles.

  Roxanne stiffened into her pose. Smile, she told herself. Keep your shoulders straight. You can do this. Nick grasped her around the waist as the orchestra launched into the opening bars of Marc Anthony’s “I Need to Know.”

  Roxanne whirled and dipped and moved with the sinuous flare that made the tango so sensual. When the routine ended, she stood breathlessly waiting for the judges to decide the final score. The moments ticked by. The other two dance teams were brought out and they stood in a line, waiting.

  “Roxanne,” one of the judges said. “You finally got it, my dear. Your dance was superb. Perfect.”