by Ines Saint
“Well, maybe if that candidate had taken the time to find out what the heckler’s problem was, they could’ve come to some sort of understanding. Can you imagine the amount of positive press he would’ve gotten if they’d put their differences aside and had instead worked together for the good of the city? The amount of good press Jake can receive if he shows some humility and hires her?”
“You don’t honestly think Jake will still want to work with her after she threatened him, do you?” Tyrone and Cate continued to have it out, while Keila and Jake remained silent, not once looking at each other.
“Cate, Tyrone, don’t you think Jake and Keila should be allowed to speak and see if they can sort their differences out?” Filip Nowak’s soft, authoritative voice spoke out from across the room.
Jake finally looked over at Keila. One look was all it took to decide he couldn’t afford the distraction of working with her. But when he looked down at her dirty shirt, he felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry you thought I was poking fun at you. I was just trying to be friendly.” Keila signaled her acceptance of his apology with a nod, and Jake turned to Cate. “But though I truly am sorry, I don’t think your friend and I would work well together, Cate.”
“But — ” Cate began to protest.
“I agree. I only stayed long enough to appease Cate, but now that we’ve gotten this over with, I’ll be on my way,” Keila interrupted her.
But Filip, who had been leaning against a window, keen and aware, said, “Keila, Jake, as someone who knows you both, I’m surprised you’re being unreasonable. Keila, despite your difference of opinion regarding CTA, working with Jake might very well ensure music education for inner-city kids. And Jake, Keila is the right person for this. She’s bright, talented, and passionate.”
Keila closed her eyes, unable to believe how badly this was going. Filip was right; music education in public schools was important to her and the opportunity to have a positive impact should outweigh other differences.
When she opened her eyes, she met a pair of blue, glacial eyes. The night they’d danced, those eyes had been all about hot gazes. Keila swallowed, knowing she needed to get her so-called interview with Jake Kelly back on track. “Mr. Kelly, maybe we should just start over,” Keila paused, looked up at him, and offered him a tentative smile.
But Jake Kelly didn’t smile back; he just stared at her, his expression serious. “I think we should quit while we’re ahead. You’re obviously prone to outbursts and I don’t work well with emotional people.”
Keila’s smile wavered. Judging from Cate’s numerous outbursts she doubted he didn’t work well with emotional people. “Look, if you want to be the mayor of Chicago, you really need to get used to the fact that people will disagree with you and express their opinions. I took two trains to get here, and I read your ideas, so please listen to me for a moment.”
Heat flickered in his eyes and she wondered if she’d made him angry. But she soldiered on. “I looked over your proposal for reforming Chicago’s school system, and I understand the weighted school formula you’re proposing. The same model can be adapted to fund music education. We’d need to come up with a base allocation tailored to the cost per pupil and assign additional funds to certain students using the very same criteria and percentage points you are using.”
“You read the entire proposal and you understood the formula?” Jakes asked with a slight, hopefully approving nod.
“Great, Cate told her about his numbers fetish,” Tyrone muttered.
It sounded to Keila as if this was a step in the right direction and she took the opportunity to hand her resume over to him. “There’s a complex but proven connection between math and music, and I’d be happy to go over that for you, too.”
Everyone in the room was silent as Jake took his time looking over her resume, considering. Finally, he nodded his head in agreement. “What does your schedule look like?” he said, with a hint of reluctance.
Amid a few more protests from Tyrone, Jake and Keila agreed on meeting early Monday morning — her only day off — for the next three weeks. Aside from the meetings, Keila agreed to attend The Endowment for the Arts Ebony and Ivory Charity Dinner the first Friday in October as Jake Kelly’s guest so she could assist him in explaining the program to important and influential patrons of music and art.
• • •
Feeling safe in her new position, yet still harboring rankled feelings, Keila mustered up her most sugary, innocent tone. “You know, speaking as a Democrat, I think it’s great that the Republican candidate is willing to reach across the aisle to work with me on this,” she remarked.
“Jake is a conservative independent, not a Republican,” Tyrone clarified through gritted teeth.
“Cate told me, but really, isn’t that just another way of saying ‘closet Republican’,” she shrugged and turned to watch Jake, hoping to have hit a nerve.
Jake met her gaze, but instead of shooting her an annoyed look, he hit her with a slow, heart-stopping smile.
CHAPTER THREE
That evening, Keila sat on the worn brown couch in the middle of her mom’s living room, her legs tucked underneath her, a dessert dish with a hefty serving of flan nestled in her arms. This will be my last piece, she promised herself, sighing indulgently. Her mom was such a good baker.
Snuggled in the comfort of her favorite old shirt — a one-of-a-kind white and fuchsia Cubs raglan shirt Robbie had made for her years before with the words You Should’ve Let The Goat In, in reference to an old Cubs curse, written on the back — she watched a Mexican novela her mother had recorded, and quickly became engrossed in the worn story line she usually mocked.
Marianna, the main character, had been shoved off a cliff by Yesenia, the evil ex-lover of Mariana’s one true love, Gustavo. And though Mariana had broken every single bone in her body and her face had been crushed beyond recognition, she’d gone through numerous plastic surgeries over the last six months and now looked beautiful again. In fact, she looked exactly the same as she had before. But when she came back to wreak havoc on the lives of everyone who’d wronged her, nobody seemed to recognize her. Not even her one true love.
Keila sighed as a delicious piece of flan slid down her throat and Marianna slapped Yesenia soundly across the face. “Maldita!” Mariana cried.
“Maldita!” Keila repeated loudly.
“Keila, don’t curse in front of la Virgencita!” her mother’s voice reprimanded from the doorway. She turned to see her mother, Graciela, standing at the front door and pointing to the Virgin Mary statue placed prominently in the center of the mantle underneath the TV, one of many shrines to her father surrounding it. Her sister, her niece, and Robbie all marched past Graciela through the open door.
“Perdón.” Keila covered her mouth, feeling like she’d just turned ten again. It was one of few negatives of living with her mom. Tania walked to her and promptly snatched the flan from her hands before heading toward the kitchen in the back of the house.
“Maldita!” Keila imitated Mariana’s dramatic, piercing cry. She scrambled up off the couch.
“No, no more sweets; our hips weren’t made to take this type of abuse.” Tania held the plate just out of reach, her sleek, fitted black suit and stern expression in direct contrast with the cute red checked curtains and cheery yellow walls behind her.
Robbie came up behind her and slapped her butt, throwing her niece, Mia, into a fit of giggles. “Wow, a ripple effect, I think you ate a whole pie.”
“Hey!” Keila rubbed her bottom. “I’m just going through a tough time, okay? No more full-time job. No more boyfriend. Try and understand. And this was my last piece, I swear.” She looked at the flan longingly and swallowed. The last spoonsful were always the most satisfying. “Why are you all here?” she asked.
Her mother pulled a bottle of sparkling cider from a paper bag, “We came home to celebrate this position Jake Kelly offered you. Cate called Robbie and Robbie called us.”
“Cate�
�s so excited she already sent out a press release. She even mentions I’m your sister!” Tania, a meteorologist with the Chicago Weather Bureau and a part-time weather girl for a local channel, had a healthy male following, complete with the occasional fan mail.
“Well, Mr. Kelly seems like a very generous young man.”
“Yeah, great pay. Ask him if he needs a meteorologist to predict the weather for him,” Tania said, stuffing a spoonful of flan into her mouth. Keila took one look at the way her sister’s perfectly tailored suit hugged her perfectly toned body and shot her a disgusted look.
“Or a dance instructor to teach him to really connect with people,” Robbie added. That’s when Keila remembered Robbie’s role the night of the dance festival.
“Robbie, did you know Jake Kelly was the guy you forced me to dance with that night a couple of months ago, at Chicago SummerDance?” she asked, walking up to him, watching his face.
“Yes.” Robbie watched her just as closely.
“Why didn’t you tell me last night, when I told you about this interview with him today?”
“I thought you knew.” Robbie’s eyes glittered and Keila knew he was lying.
“Well, I didn’t.”
“And what’s the problem?” Robbie asked, grinning.
“Yeah, what’s the problem?” Tania asked, frowning.
“No problem. It’s just he didn’t even recognize me, and my pride has already taken enough of a beating lately.”
At that, Robbie laughed. “I saw the way he was looking at you that night, and I doubt he didn’t recognize you.”
“How was he looking at her?” Graciela eagerly asked.
“Yeah, how was he looking at her?” Tania warily repeated.
“I can’t describe it in front of minors,” Robbie winked, pointing at Mia.
“So not fair … I want to know how he was looking at her, too.” Mia took the dessert dish from Tania and had a spoonful of flan.
“I swear he didn’t recognize me. He drew a complete blank,” Keila gestured over her face with her hand.
“So what? I don’t remember anyone I danced with that night. He must’ve made quite an impression on you if you remembered him.” Tania raised both eyebrows.
“Well, I’m not sure I’ll vote for him if he forgot my daughter.” Graciela crossed her arms.
Keila laughed.
“Let’s just toast and order some pizza already. I’m starving.” Tania changed the subject.
“Pizza?” Keila perked up. “From where?”
“From anywhere you want. It’s your celebration.” Tania came around and kissed her cheek.
“Lou Malantis’?” Keila grinned.
“Okay, anywhere you want, within a five-mile radius,” Tania clarified.
“Giordano’s,” she decided, and a chorus of mmmms followed.
“Giordano’s it is.”
• • •
An hour later, they all sat around the living room, watching the end of the novela, each with a spoon in their hand, passing around flan.
“Can Mia and I stay over tonight?” Tania asked. “I’m too stuffed to move, let alone drive. And we want to spend time with Keila.”
“Of course,” Graciela agreed, and Keila squeezed her sister’s hand.
“By the way, how’s Jess?” she asked Robbie, thinking about his younger sister. Robbie and Jessica shared their late mother’s house, right behind Graciela’s.
“I barely see her anymore, and she gets mad if I ask her where she’s been. She comes in really late and sometimes not at all,” Robbie shrugged, but Keila could tell he was hiding concern.
“Is she still in school?” Graciela asked.
“Yeah, that much I know. She switched her major to marketing and she seemed pretty excited about that.”
The credits for the novela rolled and Mia clicked back to local television. She Said, She Said was wrapping up, and with not much else to do, they watched Gretel, Tess, and Samantha, the fun, mismatched trio who hosted the popular local talk show. Today they were talking about politician’s personal lives and a picture of Jake Kelly came on. Keila squirmed in her seat.
“Madre mia, no wonder you remembered him,” Graciela remarked.
“Why do you suppose mayoral candidate Jake Kelly has refused to come on our talk show, even though we’ve repeatedly invited him?” Gretel, the most serious, asked. With her sleek, slate grey pin-striped suit, she looked more like a high-powered attorney than a journalist.
“I think he’s afraid of us, and we just want to get to know him a little better,” Samantha, smiled innocently. She was dressed in a pink sundress and Keila almost gagged at the “daddy’s little princess” outfit.
“Oh, I think he’s terrified,” Tess, the oldest and the most outrageous, agreed. With her feet curled under her long skirt, her wild, long silver hair falling over her shoulders, she seemed the youngest in spirit. “And since it appears he’s decided to stay the heck away from us, I guess we’ll just have to piece his personality together with what little details we have,” she sighed, but her demeanor promised more fun to come.
“We received a press release about him today,” Gretel held up a piece of paper, “A paragraph about him hiring a musician to help him with one of his crusades, and though we do admire his zeal for the city — ”
“That’s me!” Keila yelped, surprised and delighted.
“We didn’t really finish reading it. Just more black and white mumbo jumbo when what we want is to hear him describe his love for our city right here, in his own words.” Gretel crumpled the paper up and Graciela gasped, indignant.
“But, we were then emailed photos of him and this new musician, and boy, did that catch our attention.” Tess pretended to fan herself and every muscle in Keila’s body tensed, wondering what in hell they were talking about.
Then, full screen pictures of her and Jake Kelly at Chicago SummerDance began to play. “Holy Mary Mother of — ” Tania began.
“Tania, don’t … ” Graciela’s stern voice berated, but less than a second later she was transfixed by the images on the TV. There Keila and Jake were, looking deep into each other’s eyes while holding each other close. The air stuck painfully to Keila’s lungs and she struggled to breathe as she watched. In one particular picture, it looked as if he were getting ready to kiss her and like she was just begging to be kissed. She shot up off the couch, feeling hot and uncomfortable.
“So that’s how he was looking at you. Cool, this is at least PG-13,” Mia breathed out, her spoon halfway to her mouth.
Dizzy from not breathing, Keila managed to tear her eyes from the TV to look at Robbie and sputtered, “Did you — ”
“I didn’t!” Robbie’s hands shot up, eyes wide.
“Jake Kelly, we knew you ran hot rather than cold! Care to come on the show and tell us a little more about these photos? Chicago just wants to get to know you,” Samantha beckoned.
“Well, viewers, you know we always end the show with a bang, but be sure to stay tuned to your local news next. We hear Jenna Kushner has some interesting footage she recorded today during a press conference at Jake Kelly’s campaign headquarters. You’ll never believe who stole the show.” Tess sing-songed the last sentence.
Horror-stricken, Keila couldn’t seem to do anything except stare at the television set again. She knew exactly who’d stolen the show. Her phone buzzed and she looked down, gulping, and quickly read the text message from Cate: Is there something you forgot to tell me???
• • •
It was almost six and Jake and Tyrone were still working at Jake’s campaign headquarters. When Filip invited them across the street to have tacos and nachos with some of the local kids, they quickly agreed, knowing Filip wouldn’t leave until he was sure they’d eaten.
Alana, Filip’s wife of forty-five years, had passed away last year, and he was never in a hurry to go home anymore.
“I want you to know that Keila is an amazing young woman. You’ll enjoy working w
ith her,” Filip remarked as they crossed the street.
Keila. Keila Diaz. Or Miss Diaz as Jake planned on calling her. He needed to put that distance between them.
Something about her disturbed his sense of control. Jake knew that men who let women have any kind of power over them ended up failing in their commitments. His own father had taught him that lesson well, by abandoning his family and devastating his wife one too many times over nothing more than a speck of lust.
“I’ll only need three meetings, about two hours each, to pick her brain. I don’t need to enjoy working with her,” Jake finally replied.
“Still. I know you like to surround yourself with loyal, honest people, and that’s my Keila.”
My Keila? Did Filip adopt everyone?
They reached the entrance and the spicy scent of South Side Taqueria wafted out to beckon them in. “Did you tell them to put the order on my tab?” Jake asked, suddenly remembering Filip liked to treat the kids with his own money.
“My fireman’s pension is more than enough to treat these kids to a fun meal now and then. It makes me feel useful. You are not a real man if you can’t find a way to be useful to your community.”
Though Jake didn’t want his friend spending his own money, he understood. Filip often told him about his family’s roots in Chicago. From the very beginning, Nowaks had a proud history of doing honest work and being helpful to their community. They’d worked on everything from the Michigan Canal, the railroad, the steel mills, and the lumber wharves to the public school system, and the police and fire departments. Jake knew Filip wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t feel he was personally contributing.
They sat down at the rec room table Tyrone had claimed and Jake welcomed the noisy atmosphere. A couple of kids were playing air hockey, and a few teen girls were sitting around watching the annoying women of She Said, She Said. Still others were just hanging out, their homework already completed with the help of volunteer tutors.
“So, tell me, when are you both finally going to find good girls to marry and make happy homes and happy babies?” Filip asked, before biting into a soft chicken taco.
