by Unknown
“We’ll catch the next one,” he said taking her hand.
Orlando’s legs felt heavy walking to the dance floor. The music switched to a Latin number. He was an excellent salsa dancer, so any kind of hand-to-hand dancing came easy for him. He got into the groove, swinging Regan around and keeping in pace with the beat of the music. The music had a nice tempo that was not too slow or too fast.
He was impressed she kept up with him. Soon he realized they had a circle formed around them watching his mix of salsa with R&B. His salsa dancing was natural, no stiff hips and legs, but the fluid swinging of his hips and long legs.
Then the DJ turned the music to a heart-pumping salsa number to pound out of the club’s larger speakers. The laser lights beamed an arrangement of colors across the dark room, flickering to the beat of the fast music. They were the only two on the dance floor. Orlando did not miss a step as he picked up speed to match the quick-paced song. He spun, dipped, and danced Regan across the dance floor like a professional.
His hips gyrated, and his precise foot movement had the people in the circle clapping and rooting them on as they heated up the dance floor. As the song neared to an end, he guided Regan in a series of spins ending with a huge dip.
Orlando’s heart was thumping against his chest. He had not danced like that in a long while. He lifted Regan upright. Out of breath, he said in Spanish, “Gracias usted por el baile. Hermosa dama.”
Regan grabbed her chest. Out of breath she replied, “Gracias. However, I think I’m done for the night after that dance.”
Walking to the bar together, she was just as he expected, she was classy woman. He asked. “You understood what I said?”
“Yes. You said, ‘thank you for the dance, beautiful lady’.” She leaned against the bar dabbing her forehead with a napkin.
Orlando drew in a deep, erratic breath intrigued. “Where’d you learn Spanish and salsa dancing?”
“I’ve been to Puerto Rico a number of times and learned the basics of both. Granted I lack your fancy footwork, but I don’t think I was too shabby for a beginner. Where’d you learn to salsa?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m Latin; I was born dancing.”
Rapidly Regan fanned the napkin in front of her face. “I have to applaud your skills, Orlando—you’re a fantastic dancer! Besides my trips to Latin America, I have never seen anyone in the United States dance like that.”
Her skin glistened with moisture. Orlando would have given his left arm to be that napkin lightly touching her beautiful cheekbones. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wear you out.”
“Oh, please don’t apologize. I enjoyed it very much. Maybe we can dance again before the night is over—if I recover, that is.”
He wasn’t ready for her to leave his company just yet. May I buy you a drink?”
“That would be nice, but I should socialize with my other guests since this is my birthday party.”
“You’re the birthday girl? Then you must be Lincoln’s sister. They invited me tonight.”
“Yes, I am. They are in the back room we have reserved. I’ll take you back.”
“I’m following you,” he said taking the beer and a napkin off the bar.
*****
Regan’s spine tingled as she led the way to Anthony and her sister. The man standing beside her was handsome and intimidating her for some reason. She had a feeling they’d met before, but she couldn’t place where they might have come in contact. Either way he was an excellent dancer, and her feet were stinging from their performance. She could have worn sensible shoes for dancing, but it was her birthday party, and she wanted to be stunning instead of comfortable.
Moreover, she had searched long and hard for the perfect shoes to match the tiny red party dress she had chosen to wear. She looked fabulous and with beauty, the sore feet were a price she was willing to pay. She had all day Saturday to soak her burning soles from dancing in five-inch platform stilettos.
Above the loud noise and crowds of people hovering about the club, Lincoln and Anthony remained seated at a round table in deep conversation. When Regan reached them, she took hold of the back of the chair and carefully sat down to ease the burning sensation spreading on the bottom of her feet. “Hey guys, I ran into a friend of yours on the dance floor.”
Anthony’s head shot up. “Hey, Torres, it’s about time! What took you so long, man?”
“I was up front looking for you and Lincoln. In my search for you, I asked the birthday girl for a dance, not know who she was,” he said, wiping his forehead.
“Ah, so you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Regan before I could introduce you to her,” Anthony said, as the four of them got comfortable around the table. “I should have known when the music switched to salsa, that if you were here, you were dancing.”
Orlando greeted Lincoln and said, “Well you know me.”
“Hey, Regan, did he wear you out?” Anthony asked. “This guy is champion Latin dancer. Every year at the Latin-American festival, he wins the dance competition.”
“Yes, he did give me a run for my money, but I enjoyed it and I can see why he wins. He is an exceptional dancer.” Regan said unable to stop the trembling of her hands as Orlando’s eyes lingered on her.
“Lincoln, shall we give it a whirl later?” Orlando asked Lincoln.
“Yes, I think I would like to give salsa dancing a try. But when people are leaving and there are less of them to laugh at me,” she said giggling.
Regan felt sweat running down the sides of her face. The curls of her hair began to fall from the fancy upswept hairdo pinned to the crown of her head. The stylist spent hours to get each curl just right. She felt she looked a mess and wanted to wash her face and apply fresh makeup. She tapped her sister on the arm. “Lincoln, come with me to the ladies room?”
Lincoln creased her brow puzzled until she remembered her sister always gave subtle hints when she wanted to talk. “Oh, okay,” she said taking her purse from the table.
Inside the spacious bathroom, Regan was surprised no women were around sprucing their appearances. She went to the sink turning on the water. Bunching wet paper towels together, she began scrubbing her face of makeup.
Lincoln leaned against the sink tapping her foot. “So, what do you think about Orlando?”
Drying her face, Regan lined expensive cosmetics on the shelf in order of use. “Well, he seems nice. When he asked me to dance he was polite and I was surprised how well he could dance. Tall men usually aren’t good dancers,” she said smearing on a light foundation before applying a mahogany color blush to her cheeks.
“How crazy is it you two bumped into each other before being introduced.”
Puckering her lips, Regan applied a generous coating of Chanel lip gloss to her full lips. “I will say it was odd. I was talking to Aunt Mary and Cleo when he just came over and introduced himself. I’m glad I didn’t flip him off before looking at him.”
Lincoln smiled, “He is freaking cute. Anyhow, I think destiny stepped in before I could.”
“Yes he is and I think you’re wishing too hard for me to have a man. We had one dance. Don’t make too much of it, Lincoln.”
“Did I mention he is a firefighter at Anthony’s firehouse?”
Regan’s eyes made contact with Lincoln’s reflection in the mirror. “For real?”
“Yes and not just a firefighter but a lieutenant.”
Regan quickly turned around to face her sister. “That’s how I know him!”
“You know him how?” Lincoln asked scrunching her face.
“Lincoln, the car accident I was in last year. He was the firefighter that rescued me.” She shoveled the makeup inside the Chanel travel bag stuffing it inside her purse. “I knew I recognized the name but I couldn’t put a face to it. I was so out of it from the pain that I only remember him talking to me. He kept telling me to hold on and he wouldn’t leave me until I was free from the car. I couldn’t see his face for some reason.”
“Girl, that is so freaking eerie!”
“I know! Lincoln, I get to thank the man that saved my life. I rented that stupid little car because it was cute, and the dang thing almost ate me alive.”
“Are you done putting on your makeup? It will be interesting to see if he remembers you.”
“Okay, okay, I have to fix my hair and then I’m done. I’m shaking so bad, I can’t hold the comb,” she said, trying to pin the fallen curls to her head.
Chapter Three
Orlando had intended to nurse his second beer for the remainder of the night. His body temperature finally settled where he could stick with his two drink limit when out drinking. He had seen enough alcohol-related accidents as a firefighter to know when to stop.
He looked at Anthony grinning like a chimp. He already knew what was on his mind without asking. Anthony had not outsmarted him and he figured he was there as a potential set-up for Lincoln’s sister. They just used the birthday party as a reason to get him to come. The guys at the firehouse weren’t exactly subtle in arranging chance meetings of women who happen to be in the neighborhood and decided to drop by the firehouse.
None of the women he had dated after his divorce set off his wow-factor and his friends felt he could use a guide in the right direction and employed friends of their spouses or single female relatives in hopes of jumpstarting his love life. It didn’t happen. He became a workaholic and stopped dating altogether.
Lately his lack of sexual activity had been getting to him, however, not enough to engage in one-night stands with strange women. Nor was he horny enough to cause conflict among his brothers at the firehouse in case a date with a relative went badly.
Anyway, he had too much on his mind to worry about entertaining women these days. He simply wasn’t interested after what he went through with his ex-wife. Whoever said divorce got rid of marital woes had never been married to Maggie Denton Torres. The woman’s mission was to make his life miserable until death do them part—even in divorce.
Orlando folded the square napkin into sections creating a miniature football. He flicked it at Anthony. “Will you quit grinning like that; it’s freakin’ creepy.”
“Well say something, bro. What do you think about Regan?”
Orlando blew out a ragged breath. “Ah here it comes.” He sat straight in the chair and took another swig from the beer bottle. “Well how can I put this without you taking it overboard? She is extremely attractive, a great dancer and I actually noticed her the minute I walked in the door. I was immediately drawn to her for some reason.”
“So do you think you may want to get to know her better?”
“And here comes the overboard part. I’m not going to lie, it crossed my mind I would like to get to know her better, but I don’t think so.”
The cheesy grin left Anthony’s face. “Orlando, why not?”
“Look, Ant, you know my situation. As attractive as Regan is, I can’t get involved right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got a crazy ex-wife that won’t leave you alone. You are paying her alimony out the ass and on top of that, she wants a cut of the proceeds from the house when you sell it. There is a solution for your problem, Orlando. It’s called restraining order! Get one and get her the hell off your back so you can get on with your life.”
“As soon as I unload the house that should end me giving her a damn dime; but my luck doesn’t run that way. I’ll get rid of Maggie and repeat the cycle with another lunatic. I’m not saying Regan is a lunatic cause Maggie set that stage too high with her lying. I’m saying I don’t have good luck with women.”
“Maggie ain’t entitled to a dang dime. You are letting her put the screws to you and dictate your life in the same breath. Regan is an intelligent woman and would be perfect for you. But you’d rather be alone and let the world pass you by then try again with the right woman.”
Orlando groaned. “That is not how I planned my life, Anthony. I don’t want to suffer through another divorce. Women want a commitment these days. They don’t want to date the same man forever and not eventually marry him. That damn song about putting a ring on it screwed it for all men just looking to have a long-term relationship without the legal papers.”
Anthony shook his head. “I swear that is the dumbest shit I ever heard not to be coming from me. I know you and Jon attract the weirdest women on the planet, but your luck may be changing just as Jon’s luck changed when he met Gabby.”
“How do you figure?”
“You met Regan about a year ago. She was in a car accident Station 30 responded. It was last spring, Orlando, think back.”
Orlando smoothed down the edges of his goatee trying to recollect on last year’s vehicle accidents his crew handled. Station 30 was a busy firehouse and responded to many calls on a daily basis. There was rarely a day the men and now two women, sat around the firehouse with nothing to do.
When the city’s safety director announced plans on merging the City of Cleveland divisions of Fire with EMS, his envision was to have the two departments integrate to handle calls for medical emergencies, as well as fire emergencies.
Although, the number of paramedics cross-trained in fighting fires was small since the measure has not been approved by the union, the two paramedics par-taking in the preliminary test program stationed at Orlando’s firehouse, were outstanding at their job. The two women could run hoses and handled eating smoke as well as the male firefighters.
Orlando smiled recalling last spring. The month of May did produce a quantity of traffic accidents, but one particular accident stuck in his mind.
The woman, trapped inside a vehicle sideswiped by an eighteen-year old driver texting, reduced the compact car to rubble after hitting a utility pole. He remembered the woman asking him not to leave her. It was all coming back to him now—she said her name was Regan.
Anthony snapped his fingers in front of Orlando’s face. ”Yo, snap out of the trance!”
Orlando blinked to clear his head of that sunny but tragic day. While Regan was barely coherent and her face bloodied and bruised, he found her attractive. Confident the woman in his memory and the woman that he danced with were the same, he pounded his fist on the table. “I remember her clearly now. At that time she said she was separated.”
“I told you. So, amigo, are you at least tempted to put your toe in to test the water?” Anthony teased.
Orlando scrubbed a hand over his face. “As beautiful of a woman as she is, that’s your girl’s sister.”
“Come on, Orlando, Lincoln wanted you to meet her.”
“Dating women who are sisters is not good, Ant. Instead of having one woman mad at you, you got two. If Regan and I didn’t cut it as a couple, Lincoln would be upset with you for suggesting me for her. It will put our friendship on the line. Now tell me I’m wrong?”
Anthony frowned. “Man, that’s bullshit. You are scared to commit again after your nasty divorce. I’m not saying I don’t blame you for being cautious but damn, get over it.”
“Are you over Melanie? You guys were on-again off-again for years. How do you know for sure you are over her and not using Lincoln to heal the void Melanie left?”
Anthony pinched the nerve between his eyes. “Let’s just say I know it is over because Lincoln does something for me Melanie didn’t. Yeah I missed Melanie before I got with Lincoln, but not anymore. I know what I have with Lincoln is real and something I want to keep forever.”
Orlando turned his head and saw a couple kissing. They were seated at a table across the room and not caring they were in a public place. A twinge of jealousy prickled at the back of his neck. He hadn’t had a passionate kiss or a woman touch him intimately in a year or more. His decision to become celibate was hard and he wouldn’t suggest it for everyone. He chose to do it because Maggie had killed his drive for romance and sleeping with women he felt nothing for to ease his sexual tension, was morally wrong.
He said to Anthony. “You are one of the few lucky guys, Ant. Fir
efighters have bad reputations when it comes to women and relationships. We are never home with the hours we keep. If we are lucky to get married and have a family, we miss out on so much because of the job.”
Anthony raised his glass of Jack Daniels. “Yeah, but we are still human and need love.”
Orlando drank more of the beer emptying the bottle faster than he expected. “I really do appreciate you and Lincoln looking out for me but Maggie left me damaged and I’m not good for any woman now.”
“Orlando, what she did is reversible and the love of a good woman will heal those scars; trust me, man.”
“I hear what you are saying and maybe I need a little more time to get it out of my system. But don’t let my pathetic life stop you from going after Lincoln. If she is strong enough to be with you and accept the shit we go through, I say keep her close, buddy.”
“Orlando, not every woman will be Maggie. You gotta learn to trust again. I’m telling you, Regan is trustworthy.”
“I trusted Maggie and look what she did to me. I used to be a fun guy; all that is gone now.”
“I’m gonna give her props because she is an attractive woman, but damn her ass was psycho. She thought we were lying to her when she called the station. She would call on days you weren’t even working and accused us of lying for you.”
“She wasn’t crazy but confusing herself with all the lies she had to keep straight. She couldn’t remember the days I worked or when I might walk in the house. Thank God, I only have a few more alimony payments and I’m done with her ass.”
Anthony asked. “Was she that good in bed to turn you out like that?”
Orlando rubbed his forehead. “Hell yeah, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. Never drink to the point you pass out and don’t remember shit the next day and, go deeper than the outside appearance of a person before having sex with them.”
Anthony released a booming laugh. “I hear ya. Firefighters can sympathize with the exceptionally beautiful and alluring. We know what it’s like to be paraded around and wanted because we are portrayed as sex-symbols.”
