by Kenya Wright
One book I’d read insisted that in order for people to be truly happy they should go after their dreams. The test was simple. Person A made wooden trains for a living and enjoyed doing it. Was he living his dream? Was he truly happy? One day person A woke up and discovered he’d won the lottery. Person A was now a millionaire. Would he still make the wooden trains or kick those scraps away and do something else? If he would still sit down and make the trains, then he was living his dream.
Would I still model if I didn’t need the money?
I wasn’t so sure. I enjoyed art, but loved movies more. I appreciated the fact that I could make a living off sitting on my behind while others created around me, but didn’t see myself ever longing to do it for years to come.
So what do I want to do? Something with movies, maybe? What does that even mean, something with movies? I can’t act or direct.
I spent the next hour researching jobs on my phone. I browsed most that dealt with the movie industry. The only occupation that sent thrills through my body was movie critic. I don’t know. It was one of the hardest occupations to get into, at least to make a living off it. Additionally, no college solely dedicated their academics to film criticism, but on the other hand, there were many colleges that provided film studies. College? Could I go to college? I’d never been. In fact, I hadn’t been inside of a classroom in ten years. The very idea of dealing with math problems scared me.
I would probably be the oldest person there, that weirdo old girl in all the college movies, serving as the butt of every joke in comedies and the person who usually died first in the horrors.
I was twenty-nine years old with no sure path I wanted to take. Didn’t people know what they wanted in life by now? Had all those years with Michael, nurturing his career and dreams, sucked away my only opportunity for finding what I love?
Someone knocked on the door. “Elle?”
“Alvarez?”
“Yes.” His voice sounded low and sad.
“Is everything okay?” I put my phone down, jumped from my bed, and opened the door.
Alvarez tilted his head forward so I couldn’t see his eyes. The darkness of the hallway shielded half of his face. His crumpled shirt hung open at the top and he held a bottle of opened wine in his hand. My guards gave him a large amount of space, as if to not aggravate him.
“It seems that every time I run to you, I’m sinking in a pit of poisonous stew and drowning.” The stink of alcohol drifted my way with each word. “One day I want to come to you in a happy mood.”
“Why are you so down?”
“My investigator discovered who the killer was and. . .” He took a swig from the bottle. “Both of the people are close to me.”
“Oh my god.” I embraced him. “Who were the people?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He studied me for a minute. “Damn, you’re beautiful without all of that hair in the way. Who cut it for you?”
“I did.”
“I didn’t know you could do hair.”
“Me neither.” I paused for a few seconds. “Who were the two people involved?”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his head on my shoulder. “Do you feel like going somewhere with me? Anywhere? I just have to get off this property for a while. I can have a car take us wherever you want to go.”
How could I say no? He slumped his shoulders forward and rested most of his weight on me. The guards exchanged worried glances with each other. Alvarez was in a low place. If I was in his position, he would do all he could to take care of me. That was just the type of guy he was.
But who took care of Alvarez?
I ran my fingers through his hair. Those silky strands slipped against my skin. “I would love to spend some time with you. Let’s go.”
An hour later, we rode in the limo with the sun roof down and the moonlight spilling through. I’d changed into a simple white sun dress and he’d stumbled back to his bedroom to sling on some jeans and a gray t-shirt with the word “navy” in black. I made him leave his phone in his room so no one would disturb him the rest of the evening. In the limo, the wind traveled through our opened windows and blew through our hair as we sipped wine. Low jazz played in the background. It was full of a sensual saxophone and entwined with a steady bass. In front of our feet lay a big picnic basket of pastries filled with meats and cheeses. His chef had prepared the package for our ride. Chocolate and honeyed desserts sat in smaller containers on the sides, but I could barely motivate myself to even open the sweets after gorging on the rest.
“Taste this one.” He slipped a flaky bite of pastry between my lips. It melted on my tongue and revealed a strong flavor of cheese that I couldn’t guess.
“That’s delicious. What type of cheese was that?”
“I have no idea. I just know it’s good.” He popped one in his own mouth and leaned toward the basket. “Would you like some more?”
“No.” I waved him away. “I’m not hungry at all. You’ve been stuffing me with delicious things since we sat in here.”
“You have to be a little hungry. We’re going to a restaurant that has the best seafood on South Beach.”
“No. Thanks. I’m nowhere near hungry with the wine and all those yummy bites in the basket. I would just be happy to see South Beach.”
“Fine.” He leaned back in his seat. A huge grin spread across his face. “I knew being with you would be a great idea. No matter what is around me, your presence shoves it all out of my head. All the horror and dread that I see, as soon as you’re near I forget about it all.”
I shook my head and giggled. “I wish I could take the credit, but that’s the wine, Alvarez. Not me.”
He centered his gaze on me. “Trust me. It’s all you.”
The limo carried us forward. Like a boat among a sea of cars, it rocked us on the waves of the road and stopped every now and then to reveal the sights of Miami—exotic women draped in bright printed dresses, gorgeous men in khakis and flip-flops, palm trees dancing in the wind, the staccato hum of a distant salsa song coming from a faraway café, and on and on. I battled with so many luring sights that at many times, I forced myself to focus on the inside of our limo in order to anchor my excitement to one calming focus.
Another jazz tune filled the silence in the vehicle. The whole time Alvarez kept a foot of distance between us, except for his hands, which twirled my short hair over and over around his fingers. After several encouraging minutes of moonlight and jazz, I risked disturbing the mood. “Are you going to tell me what happened earlier today?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me sad.”
“Who was involved? It makes me nervous that you said it was someone near you. It wasn’t Hex, right?”
“No. It was my assistant.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that at all. “I got the impression that it was more than one person because you said that they were people close to you. Who was the other one?”
He made himself a drink. I’d been counting how many glasses he swallowed down since we got into the limo. This was his fourth glass of wine. At this rate, I would have to ask the guards to carry him to his room.
“I might as well tell you now, before you hear it on the news.” He set the bottle of wine down. “At this moment, the cops should be at the castle arresting my assistant Reece and my mother Dayanara Castillo for the murder of two girls.”
“Your mother? I thought you told me your mother was gone?”
He took a sip of his wine. “As far as I’m concerned she’s been gone for over ten years now. Her mind snapped under extreme pressure and she’s never returned. I tried to put her in a mental facility a few times, but my grandma and Hex couldn’t deal with the separation. The end result was me having to place her in the upstairs area of the castle. That way she would still be close to my family, but far enough to not hurt anybody else.”
“But she did?”
“Yes.” H
e gulped some of his wine. “Not many people even knew she lived on the property, only a few of the servants, her nurse, and her guards.”
“But if she had guards around her, how did she get free to kill those women?”
“My security director and Dayanara’s nurse were a married couple who snuck moments together early in the morning when most people slept. The director would turn off the camera and go to the living area where they did whatever they did while Dayanara escaped. The police detective and I are still unsure of how she left her quarters, but we assume Reece helped.”
“How are you sure Reece and your mother were even involved?”
“My investigator found blood drops and hair matching both victims in Reece’s living quarters, and then the victim’s. . . body parts were uncovered in Dayanara’s room, with me right there.” He finished the glass and reached for the wine bottle with trembling fingers.
“No. Don’t drink anymore.” I took his glass out of his hand and moved his other one away from the bottle. “I know you went through a whole lot, but you don’t want to start drowning yourself in liquor. You’ll find that it’s easy to do, but by the time you realize it could start to be a problem, you’re already over that cliff.”
My father sleeping on the couch in urine-soaked clothes flashed in my mind. Life had battered him with hard moment after hard moment. Each time bad situations slammed and shoved him to the floor, he reached for a bottle. I didn’t want that to happen to Alvarez. “Come here.”
He scooted my way and sank into my open arms.
“Let’s not talk about any of this stuff anymore.” I rubbed his back. “I’m just so sorry you had to deal with all of that or even see what you saw tonight.”
“At least this is all over, finally.”
“Yes.”
The limo stopped. I peered out the window. A sign greeted my eyes with the words Ocean Drive. A voice sounded over the intercom. “Mr. Castillo, we’re approaching a traffic jam and will be five minutes late for the reservations. I will call ahead to notify them.”
Letting go of me, Alvarez pressed a button next to him. “Go ahead and cancel the reservations. I would like to take my lovely date for a walk around Ocean Drive. I’ll have security call you with our pick up location when we’re done.”
“Okay, sir.”
Alvarez hit his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask you if strolling the drive was something you would like to do. I’m so used to being by myself and doing whatever I want.”
“No.” Anticipation surged through me. “Let’s go out there and have fun. No stress. No family problems. Only us and South Beach.”
“I love that.” He pressed his lips against mine and drew me into a long, succulent kiss that didn’t stop until the driver opened the door to let us out. It didn’t matter how many drinks Alvarez had devoured. He still possessed that one thing that triggered a scorching heat inside of my core. Everything warmed so badly that when I stepped out, my legs tingled and I swayed back.
“Are you okay?” Alvarez held me to him until I could get my balance.
“I’m fine.”
“Then welcome to Miami.”
Ocean Drive resembled a carnival of pleasure, one that propped up all desires and hung price tags on each need.
The canopies looked like tents and came in various shades. Crystal chandeliers hung from their centers in different shapes and sizes—teardrops, bulbs, cones, squares, and triangles. They glowed in bright tones from blushing pink to orange, ginger to violet, and draped the chatting patrons with light. The aroma of grilled fish and simmering sauces saturated the tents. And in the pathway of the carnival, people performed. Half-naked men and women strummed guitars, shook maracas, pounded on hourglass shaped drums, and sang out Spanish lyrics about love, revolution, and sex cloaked in metaphors of blossoming buds and erect sugarcane sticks.
The audience breathed it in. Men and women lounged at the tables in swimsuits or evening wear. Some clanked their drinks together. Others stared at the people who walked by.
“We’ve extended happy hour until nine.” One hostess blocked our way with ample cleavage. She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulders and winked at Alvarez. “You should really try us. I guarantee you’ll have an awesome time.”
“No thank you.” Alvarez guided me around her.
“Drinks are two for one and all entrees are half off tonight.” Another hostess from the restaurant farther down tapped my arm. I waved her away.
Chatter rose in the air and merged with piano music from high-end restaurants and salsa-infused techno songs from bars. And the sales pitches continued on and on, until we passed all of the main restaurants and entered the section with hotel lounges. Next came department stores full of mannequins that boasted double D wooden breasts and the tiniest shorts I’d ever seen. With every four or five blocks of business, a different faceless guy of any color loitered within the shadows and whispered, “Kush.”
“Mary Jane.”
“Sativa.”
“Cannabis.”
“No. Thank you.” Alvarez tightened his grip on my hand as we strolled on. “What do you feel like doing? We can go to a nice lounge and relax with wine and conversation or we could run off to dance at—”
“I’m a horrible dancer.”
“All you have to do is follow.”
“I would have to do more than that.”
“Never. You’re with a Cuban man.”
“Oh goodness. I know. You all have romance in your blood.”
“Well, yes, but I was going to say that we also come out of the womb dancing.”
“Impressive. Romance in the blood, an extra heart to give to a true love, and natural dancing ability. I wish I was born a Cuban man.”
“No, Mami. You don’t need to be born one because you’re with one of the best. Let me show you.” In that moment he got in front of me and seized my waist with his left hand and my hand with his right. He twirled me around on the busy sidewalk. People spread out to give us space, laughing and clapping the whole time. The sound of a trumpet rose around us. What the hell? I looked around and saw a one-handed man blowing through his trumpet right next to us.
“We have an audience.” I tried to move my hand and cover my face.
Alvarez kept me moving and twisting to the trumpet’s rhythm. “Yes, Mami. Just like that. Look at those hips. You’re a natural.”
“And you’re insane.” I laughed, but couldn’t help to add my own moves with his.
More people formed around us. Other couples jumped in with their own dancing. At one point the couple on our right bumped into us a few times until we were more in the crowd with clapping people than on our self-made dance floor on the sidewalk.
“I think this is our cue to leave.” Alvarez panted and dabbed at the sweat on his forehead.
“I agree.” I could barely catch my own breath.
“We need to cool off.” He lifted me up in his arms.
A shriek left my lips. “Alvarez?”
“Relax. We’re going to the beach.” He ran across the street with me in his arms, dashing through cars that still sat in a traffic jam.
Sidewalk shifted to chilly sand and beach grass that leaned to the side when the wind blew by. There were no lights there. Only the moon guided our path. A few couples strolled toward the darkened sands and waves of water reflecting the diamonds of the sky. A cool breeze skittered across my skin and combed through my hair.
“It’s beautiful out here.” I lay my head on his shoulder and relished in the thickness of his muscular arms around me. “If I lived here, I would come up to this beach every night and just stare at the dark sky and ocean.”
On the beach, the city’s booming beat and electric pounding dissipated into the breeze. The ocean’s waves swallowed all of the noise, bright lights, and fast-paced partying. There was no competition. Peace settled down on us with each step. I glanced over Alvarez’s shoulders. South Beach transformed into a silhouette of faraway shap
es and tiny people. And within the shadows I spotted a few guards scattered around us. I couldn’t make out any of their faces, just that they stood at the beach entrances and rerouted the few strolling couples to another end.
Alvarez slipped my sandals off my feet and lowered me. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I’ve ever felt before.”
A breeze swished by and lifted my sundress to my knees. Sand gathered between my toes. My steps sank into the grainy soil. I left a trail of footprints behind. Salt thickened the air. I inhaled and tasted the bite of it on my tongue. “God. This is just amazing. Every beach is different. I’ve seen so many in California and all over the world, but one can never get tired of soft white sand and cool clear water glittering with diamonds.”
“Diamonds?”
“All of those beautiful stars reflecting in the water.” I continued to raise my dress and walked to the water.
Surprisingly, the water was warm. The liquid swarmed around my feet and taunted me to move further, and so I did. A thrill stirred my senses. How long had it been since I’d laughed or danced like that? How long had it been since I spent time with a man who didn’t play mental games, flirt with other women around me, or cause chaos within his path?
Never. I’d never been with any other man besides Michael.
Alvarez rolled the bottom of his pants up and stepped into the ocean with me. Moonlight gleamed in his eyes and bathed his tan complexion in a taunting glow. The breeze ruffled his shirt and formed the material around his muscular chest with each fast current.
“You look so beautiful out here. If I was an artist, this is what I would paint.” He touched my hair as it writhed and twisted in the wind. “How did I get so lucky to meet you?” He moved closer to me. “What god or goddess should I thank?”
“Maybe I should be the one thanking somebody.”
“No, Mami.” He captured my lips, right there as we stood in the ocean with diamonds sparkling around us.
Chapter 20
Alvarez
