A Flower for Angela

by Sandra Leesmith

  "That's a relief. I like old movies, myself. Hardly ever read." He took a bite, and, after swallowing, traced his tongue across his lips.

  The action attracted her full attention. Angela sat, fork poised in midair, and licked her own lips. What had they been discussing?

  "What about music? I'm into hard rock."

  It took a moment, but his question finally registered. Angela quickly finished the bite and hoped he hadn't noticed her distraction. But the glints of humor in his eyes told her she hadn’t been so lucky. "Light classic, soft and harmonious."

  He groaned.

  "You must like fast dancing?"

  He nodded. "And I bet you're into slow and easy ballroom stuff."

  She smiled.

  "Hmm. Seems like we have nothing in common."

  "I bet I can guess one thing we share." She eyed his lean physique. "I jog every morning."

  "Jog?" He set down his fork with a shudder. "If it's more than half a block, I drive."

  Angela leaned back in her chair and let the delight in their light banter flow through her. They did have opposite interests, but maybe that was good.

  "I suppose I'd ride everywhere, too, if I had a Ferrari."

  "I didn't always have such an expensive ride." His expression turned serious.

  Interested, Angela leaned forward. "Tell me about your childhood. Did you grow up here?"

  "East L.A." He went on to provide a few highlights, but the longer he talked the more serious he became.

  Angela's heart went out to Ricardo as he continued. She wondered what had made him so confident, so sure of who he was.

  "My father died when I was sixteen.” Ricardo finished his last bite. "He was the kindest man I've ever known and I miss him still. But his death brought me around."

  "You're so different from the angry, bitter teenager you've been describing."

  "I had reason to be angry. My father's death was unnecessary. He worked in a garment factory. Everyone knew it was an unsafe, outdated piece of machinery that killed him. But the facts were covered up with bribes to the police and lies to the press."

  In his eyes, Angela glimpsed the turmoil he'd suffered. Yet, she still couldn't connect the boy with the man.

  "It was my mother who finally turned me around by challenging me to direct all that negative energy into a positive outlet." He finished his wine and twirled the stem of the glass between his fingers. "She told me nothing could be done about my father’s accident, and I took that as a personal affront. I vowed I'd go to school and place myself in a position of power where I could act on such corruption and change social conditions."

  Now she understood the drive and energy Ricardo exuded. It also gave her hope. Surely his basic integrity and honesty would force him to acknowledge that her methods worked and he would judge her fairly.

  The waiter came to pour more wine and ask if they wanted dessert. Angela refused. So did Ricardo. But his interruption broke the intensity of their conversation. Ricardo slanted her a rueful smile.

  "I suppose I've gotten a little heavy duty here. I didn't mean to spill my guts, especially since we hardly know each other."

  "Don't be sorry. It gives me hope to hear your story."

  "Hope?"

  "Any man who can admit his mistakes and grow from them won't find it difficult to admit being wrong about my teaching."

  Ricardo stared for a moment before he threw back his head and laughed. Angela joined in, but she did so more from relief than anything else. She hadn't been all that sure of her bold supposition.

  The waiter brought them steaming cups of coffee after their plates had been cleared. Ricardo took a sip. "That brings us back to school, doesn't it? Are you going to let me videotape your class?"

  Angela eyed him with wariness, not wanting to return to the subject of school."My major concern is my students. I don't want my classroom disrupted with camera and crew."

  Braced for protest, his next move took her by surprise. He didn't argue, but leaned back in his chair and grinned. Angela straightened in her seat. Now she knew that he wasn't to be trusted. She had seen him use this tactic before during board meetings, relax his opponent and then thrust swift and deep.

  "You do have a fine bunch of students in your class.”

  "They are.” She watched him closely.

  "I admire teachers who dedicate themselves to their students. You're one of those."

  "I try to be." She wondered what he was getting at.

  "I bet you do everything in your power to improve their lot. Even make sacrifices."

  "It's part of the job."

  If he thought she would sit and pat herself on the back, he was wrong. Yes, she had made sacrifices, but they were her choice and not something done to attract extra attention.

  "I would even go so far as to bet that you'd risk your job to fight battles for them?"

  "Is that what I'm going to have to do?" In spite of her bravado, fear began to form a knot in her chest. Angela loved teaching. Losing her position would be a painful price to pay. Having to leave Yuma had cost her many bitter tears.

  "No, I didn't mean that." He attempted to reassure her, appearing to regret his choice of words. "I find it hard to believe a teacher with such devotion wouldn't agree to a simple request to videotape her teaching."

  Back to the taping again. Fear of losing her job vanished. Thoughts of admiration and respect fizzled. He'd pretended to be interested in her as a woman and then, WHAM, he attacked, as usual.

  Annoyed and hurt, Angela stood."I will not be manipulated, Mr. de la Cruz." Oh, he was good. He almost had her. Softened her up with good food and stories of his childhood, and then had the nerve to play on her sense of dedication. What a snake!

  Rummaging through her purse, she searched for her money. Thank goodness she had cashed a check last night. She found the crumpled bills and set them on the table. "Good night!"

  "Angela...”

  His muttered oaths reached her ears in spite of the widening distance between them.

  Once outside, she stopped. The steam that had propelled her to this point evaporated as her getaway ground to a sudden halt.

  "It will take an hour for a cab to come this far,” he spoke from behind her.

  Phoenix, after dark, was impossible to get around in. Her options were to wait the extra hour or swallow her pride and go home with Ricardo.

  It had been a long, trying day. "Looks like I need a ride." She'd slug him if he acted smug about it.

  Gripping her arm easily, just above the elbow, he guided her toward the Ferrari. "I'll have you home in no time."

  Seated and comfortable in the sporty car, Angela stole a glance at Ricardo. At the same time, he peered across the small space at her. His contrite expression made her laugh. And his look of surprise at her laughter made her laugh all the harder.

  "Care to share the joke?"

  She couldn't tell if he was smiling or frowning. "You have to admit," she managed between chuckles, "it ruined my grand exit to be stranded without a car."

  "You made your point." He reached over and patted her hand. "Does that make you feel any better?"

  "No." She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. The warmth from his hand seeped into hers.

  Suddenly, it didn't seem so important to resist the videotaping. If she were smart, she could use it to her advantage. Analyzing each aspect of the student's classroom behavior would prove to him that her methods had merit.

  "I'll agree to the video on one condition."

  "What’s that?"

  "We go over the tapes together. You promise to allow me to help you analyze what's seen."

  "That won't be a problem."

  The rest of the ride to her apartment complex passed in silence. When he pulled into the circular driveway for guests, she gathered her purse and bag.

  "You can just drop me off,” she told him before he cut the engine. "It's early still."

  "Okay." He relented when he saw
her determined expression. "We'll be at your classroom at eight o'clock to set up our equipment."

  "Will you need anything special?"

  "No. Everything's portable. Teach your regular lessons, like you do every day."

  "That's the idea," she said with a hint of sarcasm.

  He laughed as he climbed out of the car to come around and open her door for her.

  Angela ignored him, unable to muster her former indignation.

  "I enjoyed the dinner,” she offered with sincerity, putting one foot out of the low-slung car. There'd been moments of pleasure during their meal—moments when she was totally aware of her companion… as she was now.

  Her shoulder brushed against the lapel of his linen sports jacket when she stood.

  "Until Monday then.” An absurd desire to invite him up to her apartment conflicted with her common sense. He hesitated, almost as if the same thought had crossed his mind. With a catch in her throat, Angela spun around and hurried toward the inner courtyard of the complex. She listened, half-disappointed when no footsteps followed.

  RICARDO PURPOSEFULLY strode through the courtyard filled with Saturday-afternoon sunbathers. Intent on his goal—Angela's apartment, number twenty-four. Impatient. Annoyed. After all he'd gone through to get Angela to agree to him taping her class, and now this. His editor couldn't have picked a worse time to send him out on assignment.

  Her apartment faced the inner courtyard on the ground level. He peered in the large window as he passed but saw no sign of her. When he knocked on the door, he felt a thread of anticipation weave through his frustration.

  "¡Madre mio!" he swore as he searched his pockets for the pad and pencil he always carried. A note. It was a hell of a way to tell her. The right words wouldn't come. He stood, pencil poised, his mind blank.

  "You looking for Miss Stuart?" A child's voice came from the vicinity of his knee.

  Ricardo peered down over his notebook at the dark-eyed girl looking up at him. One of Angela's students. He recognized the toothless smile.

  "Is she here?" He sat on his haunches so he was eye-level with her.

  "She's by the pool." The girl hugged a bright beach ball while she rocked on her toes.

  "Aren't you from her class?"

  "Sí." The child giggled. "Today is my turn to come to her house."

  "She brings all of you here?" He raised his brows in disbelief.

  "Only if we're good. Fernie never gets to come."

  Ricardo struggled to hide his grin.

  "Do you want me to get Miss Stuart?"

  "No." He straightened his long legs. "I'll follow you."

  In a flash the girl darted toward the pool. Ricardo shook his head. Leave it to Angela to do something else to make his job more difficult. Imagine bringing her students home—on her time off, no less.

  Yet, he had to admit that she could make a person feel special. When he sat across from her at dinner last night there hadn't been any of the nervous conversation that usually occurred between strangers. He had been so comfortable and relaxed that he'd revealed things he rarely spoke of. She had a quality about her that made a person feel at ease, as if her world was centered around him—even if it was only for the moment. He'd have to watch it, or he'd forget his purpose every time he was near her.

  Cursing, he wound back through the shrubs. Reaching the patio, he searched the bronzed bodies splayed out on the lounge chairs. Too many men. He started wondering about Angela's social life.

  A shimmer of turquoise caught his eye. It was her swimsuit. Her blonde hair hung over the back of the chaise lounge and her sleek curves glistened with suntan oil. The sight made his heart skip a beat. ¡Caramba! She was beautiful. All thoughts of her being a teacher fled from his head. He was man and she was woman. That knowledge was the only thing that mattered now.

  She turned her head. The crowd around him ceased to exist, leaving only Angela.

  "Ricardo. Did you come to see me?" Surprise was reflected in her expression, but he also detected a glimmer of pleasure there.

  "Who else?" He swaggered, full of confidence and expectancy, the original purpose for his visit the farthest thing from his mind. He sat down on the edge of her lounge and stretched over her to brace his weight on the far side so it wouldn’t tip over. His body blocked the sun and cast a shadow across her face. A look of apprehension replaced her smile, but Ricardo knew he could conquer her doubts with his charm.

  "What do you need?" she asked in a husky murmur.

  You, he wanted to say. The heat from her sun-warmed skin transferred to his. The scent of suntan lotion mingled with her perfume. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss her. Their surroundings faded from his mind.

  “Why have you come here?”

  "Does there have to be a reason?"

  "I would think so."

  Ricardo moved closer. Her tongue traced her lips and her breath caught in a short gasp. He could taste her already.

  "Miss Stuart," a high-pitched voice shattered the mood, "can I go in the water now?"

  Ricardo straightened and smiled, embarrassment making his grin a bit lopsided.

  "In a minute, Lisa. When I'm done talking to Mr. de la Cruz. Okay?"

  Lisa trotted agreeably back to the children she had been playing with.

  "I'm not used to having my moves on a lady interrupted by innocent bystanders," he informed her ruefully.

  "Is that why you're here? To put the moves on me?"

  "It wasn't my original intent, but it seemed like a good idea at the moment."

  Angela shoved his arm aside, forcing him to sit up straight. She slid her long legs off the lounge, which brought her to a sitting position beside him.

  "Why are you here?" She reiterated as she stood to put herself at a safe distance from him.

  Ricardo rose and followed her as she moved away. She sat in a deck chair and with a gesture of her hand offered the empty one across from a small patio table. Smart move, he acknowledged.

  He sat down. "Bad news, I'm afraid."

  "Do I want to hear it?"

  "I've been called out of town on an assignment." He saw her shoulders sag with relief and realized she had thought the bad news concerned her job. He wanted to reassure her, but instead, he turned away to stare at his clenched fist. "There's been an outbreak of violence at Copperville. The miners are on strike again. Since Copperville’s a couple hundred miles south of here, I doubt I'll be back in time to come in as planned on Monday."

  "You won't be in danger, will you?"

  Her concern touched him.

  "I won't do anything foolish." He gave her the only promise he could. They sent him on this kind of assignment often. He was told it was because he was fearless, and perhaps they thought he was reckless, too. But he always returned with a dynamite story.

  "When will you be back?" she asked.

  "Depends. I'll get in touch when I’m home again." He turned to face her and willed her to see his sincerity. "We're going to videotape your class, I promise."

  With that, he stood and paused, wanting to succumb to the temptation that had tortured him since his arrival. He could almost feel the brush of his lips across her parted mouth. The imagined sweet taste of her sent shivers through him. He wanted more—much more. Reluctantly, he left the courtyard. He had to leave now or not at all.

  "WHAT'RE YOU SO UPSET about?" Maria startled Angela with her question.

  Angela glanced over at her friend who sat behind the wheel of her Mustang convertible as they drove east on McDowell Avenue. Maria had offered to take Angela home, and today Angela had let her. Tired and preoccupied with thoughts of Ricardo, she'd been silent most of the way across town.

  When Angela didn't answer, Maria pressed, "It won't do any good to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Out with it."

  Maria wouldn't leave her alone until she was satisfied she’d gotten the truth, so Angela told her about Ricardo's visit, trying not to reveal her feelings for the reporter. Nevertheless, Maria
zeroed right in on the source of the problem.

  "You're attracted to him. So? What's wrong with that?"

  "Everything," Angela groaned. "I refuse to be interested in any man connected with my job."

  "Why be so stubborn on that point?" Maria stopped at a red light and glared at her friend. "Mike Garrett has been after you to go out with him for months, and you won't give him the time of day."

  "That's not true." Angela stiffened. It had required skill and tact to fend off Mike's advances without hurting his feelings. "Since Steve, I refuse to date men I work with."

  "Steve?" Maria's ebony brows rose.

  A sinking feeling settled over Angela. She knew she had to explain who Steve was and what had happened in Yuma. When she spoke, there was bitterness in her voice. "As you know my first teaching job ended in disaster when I fell in love with my principal."

  "And he fired you for that?"

  Steve had bowled Angela over. She probably would have married him in her innocence if one of her colleagues hadn't been so jealous.

  "A teacher accused me of sleeping with him to get special privileges." Angela shuddered, remembering the pain of that awful time.

  "That's ridiculous! Anyone who knows you wouldn't believe that."

  "But it was true."

  "What?"

  To this day, the confrontation with Steve remained vividly clear in her memory. Disgust and shame had swamped her then—and now.

  "I wasn't aware of it, but Steve did give me preferential treatment because of our relationship." She had been so naive not to notice she had the newest equipment, the best classroom.

  "So what did you do?" Maria slowed down as they approached Angela's apartment.

  "I left as soon as the year was over."

  "It should have been him that left!" Maria growled in defense of her friend.

  "It was hard to come home with such a botched career and love life," Angela admitted. Thank goodness her family had provided the support she had needed to get her back on her feet. "So, you see why I can't allow myself to get involved with Ricardo."

  "Well, I understand, but you should know," Maria advised her, "that I heard Cathy and Lupe talking in the lounge."

  "What are those two up to now?" Angela never paid much attention to the worst gossips on the staff. The two teachers constantly found fault with their students, other teachers and the school in general.