South Beach Love

by Caridad Piñeiro

“A little weird, but he’s so happy that he gets to babysit Sophie,” she said and walked in.

  “I’m glad for him,” Tony said, and Sara echoed it.

  “I’m glad too. Jeri and Sophie…it would be awesome for them to be together here,” she said and gestured to the comfortable home her brother had created.

  “It would be, and I hope…” he hesitated, not wanting to create too much pressure right off the bat.

  “It’ll be a nice day for us too,” she said and laid a hand on his arm, offering reassurance.

  “Me, too. I made breakfast. I thought that after we ate we could hang out by the pool,” Tony said as Sara followed him into the kitchen.

  “Or steal a ride on Rick’s Seadoo,” she said with a smile and wrinkle of her nose.

  “I remember that time we left you behind to go on your dad’s Seadoo,” Tony said and shook his head. “You were so angry.”

  Sara chuckled. “I was annoyed. I was totally big enough to go with you, but my dad didn’t think so. I think it was hard to stop thinking of me as his little girl.”

  The look that Tony shot her confirmed that he no longer thought of her as a little kid and her heartbeat sped up with the passion in his gaze.

  “You’re definitely big enough now, but I have to confess that I don’t know how to use that thing,” he said and gestured to the watercraft.

  “But I do. It’ll be fun. We’re supposed to be having fun today right?” Sara said with an arch of her brow.

  He grinned and nodded, but his smile faded as he said, “For sure. I don’t want to be all work and no play Tony again.”

  She laid a hand on his arm, her touch soothing. “I think you’re past that, aren’t you? At least from what I’ve seen.”

  “I hope I am,” he said and gestured toward the table he’d set. “But first, breakfast.”

  “Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. How can I help?” she asked, but he waved her off and in no time they were sitting and eating the meal he had prepared. Sharing a coffee companionably.

  Sara loved the easy time together, so much like what had been happening between them before the reporter had stirred up trouble. “This was great. Thank you. It’s nice to be able to just be together without all those other pressures.”

  “It is.” He clearly wanted to avoid additional mention of those pressures since he said, “How about a swim?”

  Sara chuckled and shook her head. “How about a spin on that Seadoo instead?”

  “Impatient, aren’t you?” he teased, but offered her his hand as they walked out the French doors and onto the patio.

  “I am so not patient,” Sara admitted with a chuckle and a playful swing of their hands.

  “I imagine that’s how you and Jeri got so much accomplished in so little time,” he said, praise for them obvious in his voice.

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me,” she said, appreciating his support despite all that was happening. “Let’s go do that ride.”

  Together they walked over to the dock with the Seadoo and Sara efficiently used the lift to get the machine into the water. But as she went to go down the ladder to it, Tony said, “I think you should do the driving.”

  Sara arched a brow. “Really?” Most guys would insist on being the ones at the wheel.

  Tony nodded. “Really. I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t know much about this thing. You don’t see many of them on Manhattan streets,” he said with a laugh.

  Sara chuckled. She rubbed her hands together, feeling like the proverbial kid in a candy shop as she gazed at the machine. “Rick is so gonna freak out, but I’m going to love this!”

  She quickly stripped off the cover-up over her bathing suit, grabbed a life vest from a storage bench, and rushed down the ladder and took a seat.

  Tony pulled off his T-shirt, grabbed a life vest, and came down the stairs. He slipped in behind her, his powerful body pressed to hers. The warmth of his legs against hers, the feel of him, was distracting, but somehow she got the key in the ignition and started the engine.

  Glancing over her shoulder at him, she said, “Ready?”

  Tony wrapped his arms around her waist. “Ready,” he said, but she detected a note of hesitation in his voice. Possibly even panic.

  “Trust me,” she said and drove slowly until they were out of the canal and into the more open waters of Biscayne Bay. Once they were there, her impatience took over.

  She gunned the engine and the Seadoo shot off across the water, forcing Tony to hold her tightly as they both leaned forward into the speed, enjoying the spray of the salt water, rush of the bay breeze, and the feel of them, riding together. Bodies pressed close. Their breaths catching and then exploding in delight as they soared into the air, launched from the wake of a passing boat, and landed. Dipping into the trough of another wave before she expertly maneuvered into another leap into the air. Over and over, water rushing over them. Their laughter loud over the roar of the engine.

  But the ride, as fun as it was, was physically trying as she piloted the Seadoo and as her muscles began to quiver from the effort and the chill of the water, she slowed the watercraft and steered it back toward her brother’s home. Tony’s warmth and the support of his body against hers tempering her exhaustion and the cold.

  She eased the Seadoo back onto the rails for the lift and they quickly scrambled back up on the dock. After lifting the watercraft, she expertly washed it down and flushed the engine of the salt water.

  “You do that like a pro,” Tony teased as she rolled up the hose and stowed it after she had finished.

  “Rick has taught me well,” she said and faced him.

  He was staring at her intently, his dark eyes filled with a mix of emotions. Droplets of water clung to his hair, wetter in some spots from the spray as they’d ridden the waves. Tousled, she stepped toward him and smoothed back the errant locks of hair.

  He smiled, laid a hand at her waist and after a slight pause, he said. “I appreciate you coming today. I want to try and make things right between us.”

  “I want that more than anything also, Tony,” she admitted.

  He arched a brow and his gaze was inquiring as he said, “Even more than a feature in the magazine?”

  She hesitated, wanting to be truthful. “How about we agree that it’s important to both of us and leave it at that?”

  He hesitated, then took a step toward her and cupped her cheek. “Agreed. You mean a lot to me, Sara. You have to believe that.”

  She wanted to believe—Lord, how she wanted to believe—and because she wanted this day to be one that moved them together again rather than apart, she said, “I do. And you have to believe that I never wanted for this to become what it has.”

  “I do,” he said, and it was way too easy to picture him saying those words in another situation. She cradled his jaw and ran her finger across the stubble on his cheek. Took a step closer and the smell of him, Tony, saltwater, and spring air, wrapped around her. Drew her ever closer until her lips were barely an inch from his and it was all she could do to resist taking the next step. But resist she did, taking a step back to meet his gaze.

  There was disappointment there, but she offered him a smile and said, “Let’s take this a step at a time, Tony.”

  He nodded and laughed. “I guess you’re more patient than I am.” But then he said, “A tiny step at a time…to each other.”

  “To each other,” she repeated and hoped she could muster the patience to get them through the quinceñera and to that togetherness they both seemed to want.

  Chapter 20

  Samantha stuck the last of the silk flowers into the florist’s foam that they’d glued into the bottom of the cigar box. She shifted the flower a little to balance out the centerpiece and smiled. In addition to the flowers and some moss over the foam, they had added vintage postcard reproductions f
rom Cuba, tiny colorful maracas, and a few seashells. The centerpieces would look lovely at her quinceañera.

  Across from her at the kitchen table her mother was completing her centerpiece as well. When she finished she looked up, elated. “These are going to look great.”

  Aunt Sara, who had been working at the stove, frying tostones for a dish she wanted to try out with them, looked over her shoulder and grinned. “They do look fabulous. You’re definitely going to nail the Old Havana theme with those.”

  “Awesome,” Samantha said and pumped her arm in celebration.

  The sound of the front door opening and closing was followed by heavy footsteps as her father walked across the tiled foyer and into the kitchen.

  Something was very wrong. The defeated droop of her father’s shoulders and the dark glower on his face had her instantly worried.

  Her aunt shut off the gas and set aside the frying pan as her mom rose, walked over to her dad, and laid a comforting hand on his arm.

  “What is it, Matt?” her mother asked.

  He sucked in a rough breath. “I think you should all sit down for this.”

  Mami returned to her seat and Aunt Sara sat next to her. As they had just a few weeks earlier, the three of them joined hands and braced themselves for what her father had to say.

  He didn’t join them at the table, but instead leaned heavily on the top rung of a chair across from them. With a lift of his shoulders that almost seemed to pain him, he sucked in a breath, slowly released it, and finally said, “I got a call from the yacht club this afternoon.”

  This is so going to be not good, Samantha thought and tightened her hold on Sara’s hand.

  “They had a fire overnight in their kitchens. It caused major damage. The manager told me there’s no way the repairs will be done in time for Samantha’s quince in a week.”

  “But we can reschedule, right? They can give us another day?” Samantha said, her voice rising, trembling, with each word.

  That sad look on her father’s face got even sadder. “I’m sorry, Sam. They were doing me a favor giving me that date—and it was only possible because someone had forfeited a deposit. The owner says if we take another day, which they don’t have until much later in the year, we’d have to pay full price for the space.”

  This isn’t happening, she thought. “But we can do that, right? Can’t we?” she said, desperate for reassurance. Her family could probably never afford a location like the yacht club at full price, but something had made her ask anyway.

  “I can help, Matt. Just let me know what you need,” Aunt Sara said and met Samantha’s gaze. Her aunt’s image blurred in her vision as tears threatened to spill, but she would not cry. Her parents were upset enough, and she wouldn’t add to that distress by crying.

  “I appreciate that, but you have your own worries and I know how tight your budget is for the restaurant,” her father said.

  “We appreciate it, Sara, we do, but Matt is right. We’ll find some other way to have the party. Maybe we can do something right here. The garden is lovely this time of year,” her mother said and looked over at Samantha.

  No, no, no, she wanted to say, but eked out, “Sure, the backyard. We could do that. Sure.”

  She was trying to stay strong for her parents but to do that, she had to get out of the room. “I have to study for a test,” she said and bolted from the kitchen.

  After Samantha had run from the room and up the stairs, her footfalls sounding as loud as gunshots, Sara peered between Dolores and Matt. “There has to be something we can do. I can cover some of the costs. The staff. Some of the food.”

  Matt shook his head. “No way, sis. It’s way too much.”

  “But it’s important to Samantha,” she said. “She shouldn’t have to give this up.”

  “I get that, but there’s nothing I can do,” Matt said wearily.

  “What are you going to tell people? The party is supposed to be in a little over a week,” Sara said.

  With a reassuring squeeze of her hand, Dolores said, “We’ll think of something. We just need a day or so to deal with this. Will you be okay?”

  It was hard to believe that with such devastating news her brother and sister-in-law were thinking about her well-being, but then again, that’s the way they were. With the Kellys, family always came first.

  “I’ll be okay, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Any way I can help, just let me know. I can cook up some fabulous dishes for you on Matt’s monster grill,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  With a shrug, her brother said, “I do meat. I need a big grill to do meat.”

  “Amorcito, you can feed a football stadium with that grill,” his wife teased.

  “Yes, I can—and we just might for Samantha’s quince. We’ll let you know, Sara,” her brother said and walked around to urge his wife to rise so he could hug her hard.

  Satisfied things were going to be all right with Dolores and Matt, Sara rose to make her exit. “You let me know what you need, and I’ll be there.”

  Matt nodded. “We know you will be the same way we’ll be here for you, sis.”

  “Thanks,” she said and headed for the door, hoping that whatever decision they made would make Samantha as happy—but now, she wasn’t sure that was possible. The poor girl must be miserable.

  She wished there was something she could do to take away her niece’s hurt, but her brother was right that she couldn’t offer much financially. All she could do was give her niece the best party food ever when it was time. That was how it should have been all along before things had gotten out of control. Samantha and her quinceañera first and foremost.

  Everything else…everything else had to come second.

  Chapter 21

  The ball sailed in Samantha’s direction, a soft lob that would be easy for her to control and kick back toward the forwards. As it landed, Samantha misjudged it, her kick off balance, and the ball bounded off the field.

  The coach’s whistle rent the air. “Kelly, what is wrong with you today?” she shouted out as action stopped on the pitch.

  “Sorry, coach,” Samantha said, her arms crossed protectively over her chest, her face red with exertion and embarrassment.

  “Take five laps around the field, Samantha. Maybe that will get your head out of the clouds. The rest of you head on home,” the coach said. The coach looked at Angelica and jerked her head in Samantha’s direction as the other girl started to run the punishment laps.

  Angelica understood that as captain, it was up to her to find out what was going on. But even if the coach hadn’t instructed it, she would have tagged after Samantha because she was obviously not herself. She’d been distracted through all the classes they shared all day and from what she had seen at lunch, she’d been quiet and withdrawn then, too.

  She sped her pace to catch up to Samantha and then fell into step beside her.

  Samantha shot her a confused look before facing forward again, her arms pumping as she ran. “Coach said for everyone to go home.”

  Angelica shrugged and said, “You played so badly today I thought you might need help finding your way back to the locker room.”

  A choked laugh escaped Samantha and was quickly followed by a loud sniffle.

  Angelica peeked at her from the corner of her eye. Tears streamed down Samantha’s cheeks and her breathing grew more and more ragged until it was impossible for her to keep running.

  Angelica wrapped an arm around Samantha’s shoulders and guided her to one of the benches along the edge of the field. She joined her, rubbing Samantha’s back until she finally quieted and wiped away her tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Samantha said.

  “No harm, no foul,” Angelica replied, unsure of what to do next. She asked herself what her mother would do, and the answer came quickly.

  “I’m her
e if you want to talk.”

  Beneath her hand Samantha’s body jumped a bit. Her friend–surprising to think of her that way, but they had become friends–shifted on the bench to face her. Samantha hesitated and sucked in a breath.

  “I’m not going to be able to have my quinceañera at the yacht club. Maybe nowhere actually,” she said, and her eyes glistened, tears threatening once again.

  “OMG, why not?” Angelica asked, full of empathy.

  “There was a fire at the place and...we can’t reschedule.” Another long pause followed, but with a shake of her head, Samantha finally said, “My family can’t afford to pay full price for another date. The only reason we were having it there was because my dad got a deal from his friend.”

  Angelica had wondered how the Kelly family could afford something like the fancy yacht club. Now she knew.

  “I’m sorry, Samantha. That’s so not fair,” she said and once again passed her hand across Samantha’s shoulders as the tears fell down her friend’s face.

  “What can we do?” Angelica asked.

  Samantha laughed roughly once more. “It’s ‘we’ now?”

  Angelica thought about it for a long moment. “Maybe. I mean this whole quinceañera thing has gotten out of control thanks to that stupid reporter. My tio Tony and your aunt Sara are both miserable because of it.”

  “Totally miserable,” Samantha said, picked up the edge of her jersey, and dried her face.

  “We can’t just give up,” Angelica said and stood up.

  Samantha stared at her, puzzled. “What are you doing?”

  “I think better when I run, and you owe Coach five laps. Are you game?”

  Samantha stood and walked back with Angelica to the track surrounding the field. As Angelica started to jog, Samantha said, “What am I game for?”

  Angelica smiled at her. “Finding a way out of this mess.”

  When his sister had called and said she was holding an emergency family meeting, he hadn’t known what to expect. He certainly hadn’t been prepared to see Sara there, sitting at the kitchen table along with Matt, Dolores, Bridget, and Samantha Kelly. On the opposite side of the table sat his sister’s husband, Esteban, and Angelica.