Havana Sunrise

by Kymberly Hunt

  “I did get to speak with your cook,” she told him. “She’s now under strict orders not to feed you anything solid.”

  “Why is it my fate to always be around bossy women?”

  “I’m not trying to be bossy,” Nicole said quietly. “I…I just care about you. Is that wrong?”

  “No, not coming from you,” he said slowly.

  Julian suddenly envisioned Nicole in his life permanently. He’d detected complete honesty when she said she cared, and that was so unlike any other woman he had ever known. Her caring had nothing to do with his money or who he was. It was just simple, pure and honest. It felt good for a change.

  She abandoned the terrace for a minute, and then returned, handing him a glass of ginger ale. “No more tea torture, but I’m serious. You’ll have to drink a lot today, or you’ll get dehydrated.”

  He silently took the glass and watched her sit down. The expression on her face was reflective. She picked up her book and then put it back down.

  “Julian, can I ask you something?”

  “I’m at your mercy.”

  “Have you ever been married? I mean you have what everyone thinks they want—fame, wealth. I would think some woman would…”

  He didn’t let her finish. “Never been married. Never been that much in love with anyone.”

  “Never?” she looked surprised. “I mean never been in love?

  He ran his fingers wearily through his hair and leaned back in the chair. There had been someone a very long time ago.

  “I guess maybe once,” he said, staring at the distant blue of the ocean. “But I was a teenager, might not count.”

  “I think it counts,” she said gently. “Could you tell me?” He knew so much about her past that it seemed logical he should share some of his.

  His eyes reflected poignant, maybe painful memories of the past. “Her name was Linda Medina. She was nineteen…I was eighteen. My career had just taken off at that time, and Elena didn’t like our relationship.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. Elena again. “Why?”

  “Because Linda was an employee. She was an illegal immigrant from Honduras, who Elena hired as a maid.”

  “What did she look like?”

  He looked surprised. “Why do you want to know that?”

  In truth, Nicole didn’t know why she had asked that. “Well, since you said she was your only love, I was just kind of curious.”

  “Actually,” he said, with an ironic laugh, “she looked a little like you. Well, her hair was redder, and she was short, but she had green eyes, like yours.”

  “Really?” Nicole wondered if there was any significance to that disclosure. “What happened to her?”

  “She got pregnant. We planned to get married, but Elena thought it was ridiculous. She thought we were too young—that I would ruin my career, and a lot of other crap. Anyway I was sent on a promotional tour for two days, and when I got back, Linda was gone.” He took a deep breath and looked at Nicole’s questioning eyes. “Elena paid her off and she went back to Honduras. I never saw her again.”

  Nicole cringed. “That’s terrible. You have a child somewhere that you’ll never know.”

  He closed his eyes for a second and then looked at her. “There is no child. I discovered receipts from the gynecologist. Elena paid for her abortion too.”

  She was speechless, feeling his pain, loathing this tyrannical sister called Elena. Was there any justification for ending a young love in such a cruel way?

  “I, well, I can kind of see why Elena would have thought you were too young, but she had no right…that was awful. You must have hated her.”

  “At the time, I did hate her, but I was a naive kid. I realize now that Linda never really gave a damn about me. If she had, she couldn’t have been paid off.”

  He has never known any kind of love that can’t be bought. How sad, she thought. No one deserved to be treated in that way.

  “I caused a lot of trouble back then,” he reflected. “Ran away from home, got an apartment in New York, basically tried to hurt Elena by throwing my career and her money away. In the end, Luis talked me into coming back. I was only hurting myself and I really couldn’t abandon the music.”

  Nicole shook her head. “This is none of my business, but I hope Elena doesn’t have that kind of control over you now.”

  “No. She still tries, but basically she just makes a lot of noise. I kept Luis as my manager because he’s got a good business sense, and I like him.”

  “Does Luis control everything, I mean, financially?”

  Julian laughed. “Fortunately I’ve learned not to be one of those artists who get ripped off by unscrupulous managers and record companies. When I was about twenty-one, I took a career hiatus for two years so I could go to college. I majored in business and marketing, with a lot of accounting thrown in.”

  Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. “Good for you.”

  “At least that’s one smart thing I did that paid off. Elena and Luis fought me tooth and nail over the college issue too.”

  “Why?”

  “Lots of reasons—one being that music fans are fickle. They figured that in two years I’d probably be forgotten.”

  The other reason being that if he knew too much, they wouldn’t be able to take advantage of him as much, she thought, but did not say.

  “I am proud to say that I’m totally ‘hands on’ with the financial aspects of my career now. I know where the money is going.”

  But most of it is going in the pockets of Luis and Elena, not because you’re being ignorant, but because you are allowing it, she thought.

  “I suppose I’m a little too generous with Luis and Elena,” he said, reading her mind, “but they’re all I have as far as family goes.”

  The few hours she had spent taking care of him and listening to him talk had drawn her more into his world than she’d ever intended. She had the feeling that there was still so much more to his story, that he’d only scratched the surface. But his life is really none of my business. Why am I being so nosy? Why am I, of all people, feeling sorry for him?

  “Julian, It’s getting late. I really should be going.”

  Should be? She wasn’t sure? he thought, rising from his seat. He looked at his watch. “It’s only twelve-thirty. Before you go, I just want to show you something.”

  They both returned to the living room, and he handed her a portfolio. “These are some potential covers for my new CD. Just tell me which one you think is best.”

  Surprised, and admittedly honored that he would ask her such a thing, Nicole looked through the photographs. Most of them were good, except for one that didn’t resemble him at all. “This is it,” she said, selecting one where he looked darkly handsome, and had a mischievously suggestive smile.

  “Really?” He looked at the picture she had chosen.

  “Actually, they’re all good, except for this one. Are you sure that’s you?” She held up the pale-faced, big-eyed portrait that Elena had selected.

  He laughed. “It does look kind of weird. I think I’ll consider the one you picked.”

  She felt childishly proud and honored again as she watched him put the folder away. There were a million more questions she wanted to ask him, and a million more things she wanted to do, none of them in keeping with the image of nurse, mother, and widow.

  “I really have to go now. Make sure you drink plenty of liquids and eat the Jell-O,” she said.

  “You could stay for lunch. The cook will…”

  “No thanks. There are things I have to do,” she insisted.

  “Thank you for coming and being a…friend.” he said, impulsively pulling her close and planting a lingering kiss on her lips.

  The kiss was not the kind you’d give a friend, Nicole realized as she left the prince in his lonely palace.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  In about an hour, Trey would be going to the ice show with Julian and Amanda. Nicole sat at the nurses’ station, worryin
g because Julian had informed her, at the last minute, that three of Amanda’s school friends were also going. Four children would probably be intimidating to a child who was more comfortable with one or two people. She was debating whether she should call Julian and tell him not to pick Trey up.

  Plop! A magazine dropped down on the desk near her. She looked up to see Maria standing there.

  “It’s sure quiet tonight,” Maria said.

  “Sure is,” Nicole agreed. “I hope it’s not the calm before the storm.”

  Maria opened the magazine. “You’re worrying about Trey, aren’t you? You shouldn’t. Julian’s good with kids.”

  “And you know Julian personally?”

  “No, but you do. Give yourself some credit. You wouldn’t trust Trey to just anyone. He’s gonna have a good time, believe me.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Nicole sighed and looked down at the magazine.

  “Maria, why do you buy these gossipy things?”

  “I didn’t buy that one. It was in the solarium.”

  A patient anchored to an IV approached the desk. Maria immediately abandoned the magazine and turned her attention to him.

  Nicole absently turned the page and was about to shove the tabloid to one side, when the picture of someone familiar caught her eye. She looked closer and saw Julian wearing swimming trunks and strolling on a beach with his arm wrapped around a nearly nude blond in a thong bikini. The caption read: Latin singer Julian Marquez and actress Dana Reid are inseparable in Acapulco.

  So that’s what he did in Mexico, and I, like a fool, spent my precious time worrying about him and taking care of him, when he probably deserved to be sick. Angrily, she ripped the picture out of the magazine and tore it into tiny pieces.

  Of course she knew there was no justification for her feelings—hadn’t she told Julian that they could only be friends? Hadn’t she sworn to herself that she wouldn’t read about, think about, or question anything pertaining to his illustrious sex life? All of these things she had vowed, but there was no denying the fact that she was still upset.

  * * *

  Hanging out with four giggling eight-year-old girls and one silent little boy, was not the best way to spend a Saturday evening, but for Julian it had been something of a diversion. At first, Trey had seemed unnerved by the group, but he’d let the boy sit on the end of the row near him and he’d managed to convince him that it was their job to look after the girls, since they were the only guys. The concept worked and in the end he knew Trey had enjoyed the show.

  It was now late in the evening and the other kids had been dropped off at their homes. Julian was back at his estate with Trey and Amanda. There was no reason to return the boy immediately because Nicole didn’t get home until midnight, and he was sure her sister could use a break from watching him. As far as Amanda was concerned, Julian was convinced that she would always be at his place if Elena didn’t intervene.

  “Can we watch The Lion King?” Amanda asked, bounding into the living room, with Trey following.

  “Yeah,” Julian said, taking the disc from her. He popped it into the DVD player and both kids flopped down on the floor to watch the wide-screen TV.

  Julian wandered off to the music room, relieved that Amanda and Trey had discovered something to amuse themselves with. The little boy had been glued to him for almost the entire evening.

  He sat down at the gleaming, black Steinway piano and played a few notes—trying to add on to a song he’d been mentally composing. The guitar was his instrument of choice, but some things just required a piano.

  An hour later, Amanda silently entered the room and sat down on the piano bench beside him.

  “What’s up, chica? Where’s Trey?”

  “He’s watching the movie,” she said, swinging her legs back and forth.

  “And why aren’t you?”

  “ ’Cause I hate that part. You know, when the little lion’s father dies. It makes me cry.”

  Little lion’s father! Amanda’s words struck him suddenly. He had seen the movie a while ago and had since forgotten that the animated film contained a rather powerful death scene. It was probably a movie that Nicole wouldn’t want Trey to see. He rushed back toward the living room and then hesitated as he noted that the boy was so riveted to the screen that he was unaware of being observed.

  Julian took a deep breath and watched as the cartoon lion cub walked around with drooping ears, obviously in mourning. Despite the intensity of his concentration, Trey did not seem overly disturbed by what he was seeing. It would be ridiculous, and possibly more damaging, if he were to come rushing in to turn the TV off.

  “Is it over yet?” Amanda asked, coming up behind him.

  He nodded and quietly returned to the music room. It was so hard to know what was going on in the mind of a child who could not speak. In truth, he really didn’t know enough about Trey to reach any conclusion. What had Nicole told her son about death? Had he attended his father’s funeral? Did he actually remember his father? He had been only three at the time, but it had impacted him so much that he’d lost his voice.

  Even though he didn’t know enough about the case, Julian felt that if Trey’s emotions had been dealt with immediately after the trauma, he would have gotten over it better. He didn’t think it was Nicole’s fault because she had been in too much pain herself.

  The insight he had, if that’s what it was, came from his own childhood memories of life and loss. Strangers in uniforms had taken his father away in the night. No one had explained anything to him. Soon after that, he’d been told one second that his father had died and in the next that his mother was dead too. He had not attended any funerals for them. When Elena and Luis had taken him to the United States, he had secretly been hoping that his father would be there waiting for him.

  He remembered the painfully shy child he used to be—the one who always felt inferior to everyone else. The one who was either laughed at or ignored, and finally the one who learned to listen to his father’s voice in his heart, and discovered the music that gave him wings to fly.

  The memory disturbed him. From where he was now, he did not like to admit having been so vulnerable, but he knew that child, still very much alive within him, fueled his passions, his emotions and his humanity. That child kept him from flying too high, and that child would not let him forget who he was or where he had come from. It was Nicole’s fault that the child was getting louder and louder.

  Trey entered the room and Julian quickly came back to the present. He looked at his watch and noticed it was eleven o’clock. “Ready to go home, amigo?”

  Trey shook his head in a negative response, and moved to the corner of the room. He cautiously touched the guitar that was propped up against the wall. He glanced at Julian.

  Julian smiled. “You want to play it? Bring it over here.”

  Eagerly, Trey came forward with the guitar, handing it to him. “Oh no, you don’t,” Julian said. “I’m not going to play it. You are.”

  The child laughed. Julian held him close, guiding his fingers on the guitar strings, as he’d done the night he’d met Nicole’s parents. The first tune that came to his mind was one of the first his father had taught him, an old Spanish tune called ‘Guantanamera.’ After a few times going over it, Trey could play the opening chords by himself.

  “Man, you’re really good,” he told the smiling boy. “When I was about your size, my father taught me to play that song. I don’t think I caught on that quick.”

  Trey looked at him as if he wasn’t quite sure he could believe that. “It’s true,” Julian insisted. “My father taught me how to sing too. Bet you can’t beat me at that.”

  The child studied him incredulously while Julian pretended to ignore the expression. Trey played the opening chords again and Julian sang the first lines. “Your turn, Trey.”

  He felt a sudden rush of exhilaration as he noticed Trey silently mouthing the words, but it ended when Trey suddenly stopped playing and started
to throw the guitar to the floor. Julian caught it just in time.

  “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to,” he said, hanging on to the child who was struggling to get away. “A lot of really great musicians can’t sing, but if you’re angry, don’t take it out on the guitar. It didn’t do anything. It just wants to be your voice. If you’re mad at me for asking you to sing, let me know. Make a mean face of something, but don’t throw things.”

  Trey stopped struggling, realizing that this man was stronger than he’d even imagined. He was much too strong to get away from. Surrendering, he looked worriedly up at Julian’s face, and was relieved to find no trace of anger there. He hung his head.

  Ironically, Trey’s downcast expression reminded Julian of the lion cub in the movie.

  “Nobody’s angry at you,” he said softly, putting the guitar aside. He placed his hand under Trey’s chin and lifted his head. “I hope you had a good time tonight. Did you like that movie?”

  Trey responded by nodding his head eagerly.

  Julian knew he was about to commit a breach in confidence. Nicole had asked him not to discuss anything concerning death with Trey, but the words escaped anyway. “That was sad when he lost his father, wasn’t it? When I was little I kind of felt the same way he did when my father died.”

  He could almost feel the intensity of Trey’s undivided attention.

  “I thought it was my fault,” he continued. “I was walking around looking all sad with my head hanging down, didn’t want to talk to anyone. But after a while I started to realize that there really was nothing I could have done to change things. The world is both good and bad. Sometimes really terrible things happen to good people; but you know something, Trey? The people you love don’t really leave you even when they die. Oh, it’s true you don’t see them anymore, but sometimes you hear them in the voices of other people who love you, your mother, your grandparents, even your friends.”