"That must have been wonderful. All that love, just for you.” Georgina felt her eyes mist, and she blinked to keep her vision from blurring.
"It was too much,” Rick said. “There were times when I felt torn to pieces. If I did something to show affection to one set of parents, the other set would be hurt. In the end I learned not to show anything at all."
"Oh.” Georgina whispered. “I thought it would be wonderful."
"No.” Rick glanced up from the fork he was rolling along the tablecloth. “It tore me up. My parents decided I was getting out of hand. I was sent down to Mexico to my mother's parents. My grandfather was a retired army officer. He was tasked with instilling the fear of God into me."
"And did it work?"
The familiar grin lit up his face. “It sure did. And I loved it-the discipline-the physical demands. I was fourteen. My grandfather put me through an army boot camp. At the same time, I was helping to run the ranch they'd retired to. I learned to ride and work with cattle. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."
"But you didn't stay?"
"I came back to California for holidays. Then my mother and her new husband moved out to Washington. I started going there as well. At eighteen, when I started college, I came back to the US permanently."
"Why the police? Why not follow your grandfather into the army?"
"I'm a US citizen. I couldn't join the Mexican army. Anyway, I decided the police suited my particular talents better than the army."
"And what would those particular talents be?"
"Mainly lack of respect for the rules. Not much good in the army."
Before Georgina could answer, a giant of a man strode over to their table. He wore a well-cut plain suit, but his regal bearing made it into a uniform. The olive skin carried a deep outdoor shade. His hair glinted as black as Rick's, and was cut equally short. The impression of brute force was softened by the mischievous look on his face.
"Ricardo, amigo, how are you?” The words rolled out with a strong Hispanic accent.
Rick broke into a grin. He sprinted up, and Georgina watched as the two men hugged each other, with much manly thumping on the back. Then they burst into a torrent of Spanish.
Finally, the stranger turned to Georgina. “This your lady friend?"
"Sorry.” Rick addressed his apology to both of them and ran through a swift round of introductions. The newcomer was identified as Colonel Ramirez.
"Emilio,” the man said. “Pretty ladies must call me Emilio."
"And he's no longer a Colonel anyway,” Rick said dismissively. “They tossed him out of the army."
"Which army would that be?” Georgina asked gingerly. She felt a little overwhelmed by all that testosterone swirling around her.
Colonel Ramirez threw his head back and roared with laughter. “The Mexican, of course.” He winked at her. “And they didn't toss me out. I resign before they have time."
"There was a small matter of a pending disciplinary hearing,” Rick interrupted. He sat down again. With a conspiratorial smirk on his face, he crossed his arms over the table and leaned toward Georgina. “This is how it went down. The US army was helping to patrol the Arizona border on a vulnerable stretch just past Nogales. A soldier named Captain Patricia Stevens was leading a team which accidentally strayed too far south. Our friend here was doing similar duty on his side of the border. He thought it would be a hoot to pretend that the US troops had crossed the border with a hostile intent. An invasion, he yelled. The band of dumb recruits he was supposed to be training all agreed it would be a hoot. So they surged forward, pretending to engage the enemy."
"It was just a bit of harmless fun,” Emilio said in a surly voice.
"Fun, my ass. If your wife hadn't kept her cool, people could have died."
"Wife?” Georgina echoed. Perhaps she really was getting drunk, because her mind hadn't quite managed that last leap.
"Captain Stevens,” Emilio explained. “First she tries to get me court martialed. Then she reconsiders, and she marries me instead."
"Oh,” Georgina said. She beamed up at Emilio, because he was such a terribly attractive man. “That sounds like a good solution for everyone."
Emilio clicked his heels together and bowed at her, one hand pressed against his chest. “Senorita, you are wasted on this cochino. He has a small brain and an even smaller dick, and he has no idea how to use either. You must dump him. I send you to one of my brothers in Mexico."
Georgina giggled. “Maybe tomorrow. Now we must eat.” She pointed at the waiter heading their way with plates full of food.
"Eat, eat,” Emilio urged them. “Enjoy.” He took Rick's hand, crushed it, pounded him on the back with his free hand. Then he bowed at Georgina once more.
"How is Patricia?” Rick asked, seemingly unhurt by the friendly assault.
"Expecting again. Sick as dog. Same as the two first. Every time, I swear I never let her go through it again, but she talks me into it. One more. Four. Then we stop."
"Is she still in the army?"
"No. She is out. She is furious about Iraq. A nation lead by incompetent cretins, she says. She wants to do something about it. She is thinking of going into politics."
Rick contemplated his friend and nodded slowly. “She'll do well. Let me know if I can do something to help."
"Perhaps you can talk to the Senator. Ask his advice. How to get a start."
"I'd be happy to do that. I want to take Angelina out to visit some time soon anyway."
"Ah, Angelina.” Emilio's eyes twinkled. “Your little girl. Is good to be a father, yes?"
"The best."
"And you, senorita, you know little Angelina?” Emilio bounced a speculative glance between Rick and Georgina. “Little Angelina says OKAY to get a new mother?"
"Whoa.” Rick bolted upright in his seat.
"Emilio, you're the one who doesn't know how to use his brain,” Georgina said.
Emilio roared with another burst of laughter. “But at least I know how to use the other thing.” He raised a hand in a salute as he backed away to make room for the waiter. “Adios, amigos."
They waited in silence while the waiter arranged the food on the table.
"Sorry,” Rick said as soon as they were alone again. “Military humor's a bit crude."
"I wasn't offended.” Georgina raised her knife and fork. She took one bite. “Mmm. This is good.” She tucked in.
Rick only picked at his share of the appetizer. He took another bread roll and buttered it.
"How do you know Emilio?” Georgina asked him.
"We hung out together as kids. His father served in the army with my grandfather."
"Who's the Senator, and why is it that you could get an audience with him?"
"My stepfather's in politics. He knows all kinds of people."
Georgina registered that Rick hadn't really answered her question. It didn't bother her, she was just making conversation, but she stored the incident in her mind. Rick wasn't the only one who couldn't tolerate lies. It might be the only thing they had in common.
"Where is Angelina?” Georgina asked.
"She's staying the night with Mrs. Donati."
Her knife and fork came to a halt in the air. “Does she know that you're with me?"
"Yes. She made me buy a new shirt. And she gave me an inspection before I left.” He grinned sheepishly. “You know, to make sure I'd washed and shaved properly. It felt like some crazy role reversal."
"Did you pass?"
"Not the first time."
She raised her eyebrows, but Rick refused to be drawn into details. They were interrupted by the waiter, who returned to clear their first course.
"Could you tell me which way the ladies room is?” Georgina asked the waiter.
She had to concentrate very hard to follow his directions, as her mind seemed a little blurred.
Rick leaned back in his seat and toyed with his empty glass while he waited. Part of him was grateful that Georgina
had drunk all that champagne. It had transformed her mood, making the evening tolerable for both of them.
Another part of him regretted every drop. Her eyes sparkled and her skin glowed, bringing out the soft and feminine side that he found so hard to resist.
It wasn't supposed to be a date. It was taking care of business. But he found himself sitting across a table from a woman and wanting her. The way she ate fascinated him. She savored every mouthful as if the food was a miracle. It made him wonder if she enjoyed all physical pleasures with the same intensity.
It also fascinated him how Georgina took an interest in everything she encountered. The eagerness in her voice, the ease of her questioning had caught him off-guard. He couldn't remember ever telling a woman so much about his childhood.
Rick tightened his grip around the champagne flute as he caught sight of Georgina returning across the room. Teetering a little, she walked closer. The little green dress swayed with each step. He ached to know what she wore underneath.
Exhaling a long breath, Rick forced his hand to release the glass before his fingers grew so taut they'd snap the stem.
Georgina collapsed into the seat. It was a relief to be back without any mishaps. She must have drunk more than she'd realized. The floor had shifted under her feet, and she'd been petrified of tripping on her high heels and falling flat on her face.
She looked up and smiled at the waiter who stood arranging the main course in front of her. Then she peered over at Rick. He seemed tense all of a sudden. She'd keep him talking. Men were supposed to like talking about themselves.
"Andy told me about her mother,” Georgina said when the waiter was gone. “That you didn't really know her."
"That's true."
"I don't want to pry, if you'd rather not talk about it."
"No problem. I don't mind."
There was a brief silence while Rick attacked his steak. He sawed off pieces with a military precision, and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing briskly. Georgina followed his progress with increasing suspicion.
"Angelina's mother was a wannabe starlet,” Rick said after a quiet moment of contemplation. “Hollywood's full of them. It's a sad story, but by no means unique."
"What happened?"
"Her name was Chantal Patissier. French Canadian, from Quebec. Her elder sister was involved in the movie industry. A make-up artist or something. I don't know exactly what. The studios shoot a lot of movies in Canada because it's cheaper. She was working in Toronto and met a cameraman, an American. They got married and she moved to LA. Two years later, at the age of seventeen, Chantal followed."
"To try her luck in the movies?"
"That's it.” Rick paused to mop up another corner of his steak.
"And she had no luck?"
"To the contrary. The worst possible thing happened. She had some early success, just enough to build up her hopes. To give her a taste of what could be. Then the work dried up."
"Is that when you met her?"
Rick shook his head. “She began a slow slide into drugs and despair. I was a rookie cop working narcotics. Strictly small time. Busting street dealers, or at least trying to keep them from doing their trade around school gates. I came across Chantal a few times. Even the state she was in, she was still an incredible beauty. Someone you'd notice, and wouldn't forget."
"You don't have to give me the details.” Georgina told him wryly.
He grinned at her. “It's not what you think."
"What is it that I think?"
"That I took advantage of a young girl high on drugs, got her pregnant, and then waltzed away whistling a merry tune."
"So, prey tell me, how was it?"
"Angelina was born because there are some things they don't teach you in the police academy."
"Like?"
"Like always carry a condom."
"What?” Georgina knocked over her champagne. She reached out to catch the glass before it rolled over the table edge. “Good thing it was empty,” she said, knowing she was babbling. “Usually that happens with a full glass of red wine."
"When I told you to take it easy, I didn't mean you had to stop drinking."
"That's not why I stopped.” Georgina propped the glass back on the table, not looking at him. “I stopped because champagne bubbles don't go with food."
Rick worked on a few more bites of his steak. Then he continued almost absently. “I was setting up a buy, trying to work my way up the supply chain. Chantal was there that night. She had no money, and she was desperate to score. She threw herself at me. Anything for the price of a high. I couldn't take the risk of saying no. I was supposed to be this low-life hoodlum, with an appetite for the ladies. There was no way I could have turned her down and maintained my credibility."
"What a hardship it must have been."
Rick regarded her evenly for a brief moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and carried on. “It wasn't a pleasure. To be honest, I was relieved I could perform. I'd rather not have done it. But it never crossed my mind to worry about pregnancy. I was much more worried about catching something nasty."
"Did you see her again?"
"I got transferred to homicide soon afterward. Stopped working the drug busts. Next time I saw her was eleven years later. But I remembered the name. When I learned about Angelina and realized the dates matched, I checked it out."
"Why did you take her on? Surely, caring for a child has turned your life upside down."
"She was my child, and she was being tossed all over the place. Between Chantal, the social services, Chantal's sister. It was like my childhood, but without the love and material comforts. I didn't want her growing up like that."
"Why didn't Chantal's sister want her? Andy says she used to go and stay."
"She did. Desperately. Chantal's sister couldn't have kids herself. She'd tried IV, all kinds of medical treatments."
"Then why?"
"Chantal wouldn't let Angelina go. There was a lot of jealousy between Chantal and her sister. Chantal had the one thing her sister couldn't have, and she wasn't going to give that advantage away."
"Isn't that terribly selfish?"
"Drug addicts are not particularly concerned about the welfare of others."
Georgina shook her head slowly. “Scary, huh? One careless act, and your life changes forever."
"I'll drink to that.” Rick hoisted up the bottle of champagne and filled their glasses.
They shared the rest of the champagne as the fiery ball of the sun plunged into the ocean. When the darkness thickened, strings of softly glowing fairy lights illuminated the outline of the rooftop turrets.
Instead of a bill, the waiter delivered a basket of bath products bearing The Del brand to their table. The accompanying note was written out in Spanish. Emilio Ramirez, Head of Security, stood in big letters on top of the compliments slip.
"What does it say?” Georgina passed the slip to Rick.
Rick glanced at it, then looked at Georgina. His shoulders heaved with suppressed laughter.
"What?” she demanded.
"You don't want to know,” Rick said. “It's crude."
"Now I want to know even more."
"All right.” He picked up the slip and studied it, selecting the most appropriate translation.
"Should you get lucky tonight, your lady friend will need these.” He folded the slip and pushed it back into the basket. “He is harping back to when we were kids. I had a reputation of not taking enough baths."
"Oh,” Georgina said. Her mind went completely blank.
"Would you like to take a walk on the beach before we head back?” Rick asked her.
Georgina looked through the window into the darkness. Moonlight reflected in the restless waves, making the ocean look like a cauldron of molten silver.
A kiss. She had to get her kiss, but going out on that beach with him was beyond her courage. Her head spun with champagne. Her body tingled with a sense of anticipation that frightened her. She pr
eferred to get her task accomplished in safer surroundings.
"I don't have proper shoes,” she said. “I'd like to just go home."
During the drive they remained silent. Rick held her hand as he helped her in, and reclaimed it when the car was halfway across the bridge. She could feel the warmth spreading from his fingers to hers.
When they got out, he slipped a folded bill to the driver and wished him good night. Georgina wondered if Andy had waited up, and was watching them through one of the dark windows.
"Would you like to have a cup of tea?” she asked, nervously clutching the basket of bath products. “I mean, or coffee?"
Rick placed his hand over the small of her back, the way he'd done at the restaurant, and steered her toward the entrance. “I'll try the tea."
Inside the apartment, Georgina kicked off her high-heeled sandals. She draped the shawl over the handle of the living room door, and placed the bath product basket on the hall table. Then she went into the kitchen. Rick followed her. He shoehorned himself into one of the small chairs grouped around the fitted table at the end of the counter.
Georgina realized her hands were shaking. Water splashed over the sink as she filled the kettle. She clenched her hands into fists and took a long breath. If she didn't get her body under control soon, she'd end up scalding herself.
She reached up to the cupboard to take out two of her bone china mugs. One of them slipped from her fingers and crashed down to the tiled floor, where it shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces.
"Oh.” She stood still and stared down at the debris.
Rick dashed up and pulled her back from the shards. “Don't walk that way. You might cut your feet. I'll sweep it up."
"It was my favorite,” she said, staring desolately at him. “It was the one with cows."
"I know,” he said. He reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “We'll find you another one, sweetheart. It will be all right."
And then he bent down and kissed her.
It was a kiss of such exquisite tenderness it made Georgina's heart stop. Rick brushed his lips against hers, so softly there was hardly any pressure at all, just the warmth, and the friction of her lips against the slightly rougher texture of his. It overwhelmed her that a man of such physical strength could be so gentle.
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