Mi tesora, I am so sorry, but an emergency came up
and I have to leave. Please accept my apologies and pass them on to
your lovely family. I will call you as soon as I can.
Love, Nico
Erica forced a thin smile as she crumbled the
note. “Well, it looks like we may as well start eating. Nico offers
his sincere apologies, but an emergency came up, and he had to
leave.”
Maritza’s brows rose in curiosity. “Nico? Is
this a new beau,
cariña?
”
Patting her sister’s hand, Erica simply
offered, “I’ll tell you all about him later.”
Briefly, she wondered what it was about the
Sloan brothers to make them take flight right in the middle of a
lunch date. And if she and Nico ever decided to enter into a more
permanent union, would the groom skip out on her just before the
wedding ceremony?
* * *
Early in the week, Erica concentrated on
finishing a design project for a lawyer’s office, and then moved on
to Gianni Sloan’s decorating job. Despite Sacha’s nosy prodding,
she managed to keep mum about her recent romantic activities. A
subsequent call to Nico’s cell phone got her the standard
electronic request to leave a message.
When she finally broke down and called his
twin, Gianni gave her a somewhat cryptic answer. “Oh, Nico. Yeah,
he had to leave right away. There was some problem at the gallery.
A fire or something. He told me he’d call you soon, Erica. So, when
do you think you’ll start on my place?”
Although Nico hadn’t bothered to give her a
personal explanation or a quick kiss good-bye, or even a follow-up
phone message, he sent her a gift every day. Monday had been a
dozen pink roses. Tuesday had been a wrapped basket with luxury spa
items. Wednesday brought her a box of decadent fudge and Thursday a
sample medley of premium coffees. Each gift came with a short but
sublime note:
Missing U!
She blushed only once when she became the
center of attention at work. Even Craig seemed interested in her
new love life, but Erica quickly and quietly deflected their
curiosity, especially Tai’s knowing winks and Sacha’s expectant and
exaggerated facial expressions.
On Friday, Erica waited for the workmen to arrive at
Gianni’s place. Following her design plan, the crew would combine
the two smaller bathrooms into one large area with the addition of
a large tub and a new vanity with brass fixtures and a mint-green
marble top. Her own curiosity had tempted Erica to snoop through
the Latin lover boy’s dresser in the bedroom. Perhaps, she could
learn more about the Sloan family from any mementos Gianni
possessed. Yet when her personal ethics soon took over, she delved
into her project instead. At least for the next two weeks Erica
planned to be extremely busy with fabrics, paint and
furnishings.
According to Maritza, Gianni had finally
called her and apologized for his recent absenteeism. In fact, he
had moved in with Mari temporarily while her sister redid his
condo. If nothing else, at least Erica had a few good nights of
uninterrupted sleep, though her dreams often involved Nico and a
fantastic, surreal night together in each other’s arms.
As each day passed, she wondered why Nico
didn’t at least give her a quick call to say everything was all
right at his end of the world. She didn’t want to appear too eager
so Erica refused to follow up with her own calls and leave
messages. Let him think and wonder why. After all, didn’t absence
make the heart grow fonder? Yet, for Erica, the absence of the
artist, this man of her dreams and desires, only made her heart sag
heavily with the pain of separation.
So, I’ll dig deeper into work...
Erica felt satisfied as the condo project continued
on schedule. Besides Nico’s art, she included several smaller
paintings by her father. Since his retirement from head maître d’
of the restaurant, Santos Rael had taken up painting once more, his
art a bright blend of Latino life and city scenes. Erica especially
loved the one of the bodega, the little neighborhood store with its
striped awning, and the outside bins of bananas, coconuts, oranges
and melons. The plump Indian woman, too, with her long, blue-black
hair and basket of fruit on her head, made a complimentary accent
to the sandstone fabric walls. For the corners and niches, she
combined antique white and wintergreen splashes of paint, and
dressed the windows with burlap drapes.
Starting with natural wicker furniture, Erica
added pillows with a green frond design, microfiber camel cushions,
and a glass coffee table with a rattan base. At a Mexican import
shop, she found a wonderful, rough-hewn plank dining set and
matching sideboard, the color of driftwood. With the addition of
brass candlesticks and folk art ceramic bowls, the dining room came
together as an inviting, relaxed space to eat. Mexican mosaic tiles
in rich colors graced the kitchen counters, and the cabinets
sported natural wood and brass handles.
Erica’s recent discoveries at an antiques
shop included a knotty pine bed frame and carved headboard, but she
decided to wait and furnish the bedroom for last. After all, since
the master suite remained Gianni’s focal point as a cozy bower of
carnal delights, she may as well take her time to make a suitable
and interesting placement of furniture and incidentals. Not that it
mattered much to the kinds of “guests” the man entertained in
there. At least Erica could guarantee a pillow top, no-springs
mattress to play on, all the comfort without the squeaks.
* * *
Saturday evening found her restless and out
of sorts. Rosina’s prodding of the maid who cleaned Gianni’s place
twice a month proved disappointing. The little maid, Felipa, had no
knowledge of a twin Sloan brother, nor had he mentioned any other
family members. All Felipa could provide was that the Great Latin
Lover possessed several pairs of satin thongs, one black, one red,
and one a leopard print, as well as a variety of textured and
colorful condoms.
Resigned to a quiet evening, Erica was just
about to run a bath when the strains of mariachi music drifted to
her bedroom window. Running over and opening the sash, she peered
out and spied a quartet of musicians, all with guitars and dressed
in flashy ranchero outfits and large sombreros.
“
Eriqueta, Eriqueta
,” they sang in
their rich and strong contralto voices,
“tu siempre será mi
amor. De aquí al mar, en mis brazos y en mi corazón siempre.
Eriqueta, es mi un amor verdadero.”
Erica, you will always be my love
... She felt
her face flush and her heart speed up with amazement and giddy
happiness. She listened to three more songs before the group
finished. A smattering of applause drifted from condo residents who
had opened their windows to enjoy the impromptu concert as well.
Telling the quartet to wait there, Erica quickly went downstairs
and out to the courtyard to thank them personally and give each
musician a five dollar tip.
“
Muchas gracias, señorita,”
the senior
member stated,
“complimentos de Señor Adriano Sloan.”
With
that, the quartet turned to leave.
Erica had no idea how she returned to her apartment,
for she walked on air the whole time, her head in the proverbial
clouds. That crazy, impetuous, glorious man! Taking up her cell
phone at last, she hit the speed dial for Nico’s number.
He answered on the third ring. “
Hola,
guapita!
How was your song fest?”
“You are
loco
,” she laughed, “crazy
and wonderful at the same time! Where did you find your
musicians?”
“In the yellow pages, under ‘have romantic
ballads to sing to pretty women, will travel.’”
“Well, it did the trick. I’m still in
shock.”
“Well, I aim to please. Now will you be able
to recover enough to get a good night’s rest?”
“I’ll try, although without you next to me,
the nights are endless.”
“I promise to come back to Miami soon.”
Erica couldn’t quite ferret out his mood from
his tone, but she hoped she detected a slight lilt of longing, his
need to be with her as palatable as her own. For a split second,
she toyed with the idea of hopping the next flight to New York, and
then on to Bridgeport, a totally spontaneous and capricious
endeavor.
“Is everything all right with the
gallery?”
“All is well for now, but I’m tied up with a
couple of contracts and a photo exhibit. You do forgive me for my
sudden departure, I hope?”
“You’re forgiven, but don’t make your
disappearing act a habit, or I’ll think it’s a genetic defect
inherited by both brothers.”
“Not to worry. I won’t forget you that
easily.”
They spoke for a minute more before Nico
crooned his own little romantic ballad.
“Buenos noches,
Eriqueta, con los suenos dulces de mi y de tu.”
“You do know,” she finally said when she
could catch her breath once more, “I plan to make that our
song.”
“It just came to me,” Nico countered with a
laugh.
“It was fabulous nonetheless.”
“Okay then, I’ll keep working on the lyrics.
Next time we meet, I may have the operetta down pat.”
“I can’t wait.”
When they finally disconnected, Erica stared
at her cell phone. Now, why hadn’t she recorded the mariachi
serenade for posterity? Of course, if Nico kept up with his
romantic efforts, she would have many more opportunities to capture
their memories together.
* * *
It must be love! It has to be love!
Every time Erica found herself in love, or at
least in deep like, she became ravenous. Last night, she had downed
a quart of mango ice cream without even thinking. The last time
that happened, she had been in a six-week relationship with a guy
named Brent. Unfortunately, the minute Brent knew his ex-girlfriend
wanted to come back, he dumped Erica like last week’s leftovers,
leaving her with nothing more than a gaping wound in her heart and
five extra pounds. The heart healed quickly, but those pesky extra
pounds took another month to shed.
In a rare, spurious move, Erica decided to
visit Maritza Sunday afternoon without announcing her arrival.
Since her divorce, Mari had chucked the house she shared with
Ricardo and moved into an apartment near Miami Beach. It was
actually more of a bungalow, within a series of stucco cottages,
all painted flamingo pink with terra cotta roofs and Spanish
grillwork.
Why not take a leisurely drive? Besides, her
Hyundai Elantra could use a good wash job to restore its deep green
luster, and the car wash Erica preferred rested between her condo
and her sister’s new place. Besides, she needed to consult with her
client concerning several changes before she went ahead with them
on Monday morning, and since Gianni was staying with Mari
temporarily...
Noting her sister’s Nissan Sonata in her
appointed slot, Erica made her way through the small courtyard with
its blooming flower beds, and went to knock on the door to #E.
After two knocks, the door slowly opened to reveal a man she had
never seen before. Buff and tan, the man gave her a sultry perusal
with blue eyes while he ran a hand through his spiked blond
hair.
Dressed in only a pair of tight cut-offs, the
guy seemed to flex every naked muscle as he spoke. “Hey, there. Can
I help you?”
Erica stepped back to check the door again.
Unless Mari moved, the gold lettering proclaimed #E. “Ah, I’m
looking for Maritza Rivera. Do I have the wrong place?”
“Oh, no, this is it.” Mr. Hunky Torso opened
the door wider. “Come on in. I’ll tell her you’re here. Oh, I don’t
know who you are, do I?”
“I’m her sister, Erica.” She took a step
forward, but before she made it to the foyer, Mari came to the
door, clad in a short, silk robe. Today, her normally coiffed hair
splayed about her head in mischievous spurts. As soon as she
spotted her sister, Mari scooted past her blond guest and took
Erica by the arm and led them back to the courtyard.
“It’s not what you think,” she started as she
gave Erica a guilty look. “Okay, actually it is. His name is
Travis, and he works at the station as a gaffer, whatever that is.
Anyway, we—”
“Wait a minute!” Erica pulled her arm away
from Maritza’s grasp. Her sister’s long nails had been digging into
her flesh with excruciating precision. “I actually came by to see
Gianni. Wasn’t he staying here with you?”
Mari’s eyes narrowed. “Oh no, Gianni and I
were over with days ago! He’s gone his way, and I’ve gone mine...
all the way to Travis.”
Erica creased her brows in a frown. “Did
Gianni say where he was going while I decorate his place?”
“I think he said he was going to stay with
his parents.” Mari placed a slender finger to her lips. “Well, you
can call him and find out, can’t you?”
Pulling her straw bag around her hip, Erica
dug for her phone. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry to have bothered
you.”
“No problem.” Her sister’s gaze traveled to
Travis, still at the door. She burst into an adoring smile. “I’d
invite you in for a soda or something, but we’re kind of in the
middle of something.”
“Say no more!” Erica gave her sister a quick
kiss. “Talk to you later,
amante.
”
Flipping her sunglasses back on her nose,
Erica went straight to her car. Well, well, well! Things certainly
ran fast and deep in network news! For a moment, she allowed a
small gloat of satisfaction as she hoped beyond hope that Mari had
done the dumping and not Gianni. Speaking of
el diablo
...
She punched in her client’s number but received his ridiculous
message.
As she eased into her car seat, Erica thought back to
what Nico and Gianni had said about their parents, and then
remembered their names, Bradford and Francesca Sloan. Dialing up
the Greater Miami directory, she decided there couldn’t be too many
Bradford Sloans who resided in Coral Gables. When the name and
address came up, she made a split decision. Why not? A beautiful
Sunday afternoon called for a drive, one in the approximate
direction of 1416 Fontenelle Avenue, Coral Gables.