“No. I’m not Courtney.”
Courtney? What? For a moment, he didn’t know what she was talking about until the memory crashed down on him.
Shit.
She thought he was in love with Courtney. He’d screwed himself real good.
“I have to go.” She looked around blindly. “Where’s my purse?”
“Right here.” He picked it up from the top of the hamper and handed it to her. “Don’t go. Let’s talk.” How he’d talk himself out of this, though, he had no idea. He thought he’d played the game so well, but now it had bitten him in the ass.
Except it wasn’t a game anymore.
She gripped the purse so tightly her fingers turned white. “I don’t think we should meet again.”
“Gloria, please—” That was as far as his oh-so-clever brain took him. How could he get her to stay?
She was as frantic to escape as he was to keep her here. She shook her head to forestall any further discussion. “Goodbye, Bryan.”
She left the bathroom without looking at him. Her heels beat a quick tattoo down the hall, and a moment later, the apartment door snicked shut.
He stood alone in the bathroom as helpless and abandoned as a beached whale.
Happy now, Professor?
No. Not happy at all.
He gazed at his reflection in the mirror.
He ought to have a T-shirt made.
I fell in love with Gloria Navarro, and all I got was this smooth shave and a guilty conscience.
Love?
Hold on there, Professor. Don’t go getting sappy just because you didn’t sleep with her. You win some, you lose some. That’s life.
But he didn’t want to lose this one. Maybe it was only because she hadn’t fallen into his bed as quickly as some other women had. Perhaps once he’d made a conquest of her, he’d lose interest just as he’d done so many times before.
He doubted that. Already his feelings for Gloria were deeper, more profound, than he’d experienced for any other woman.
All right, smartass. You’ve got all those fancy degrees that supposedly show how intelligent you are. How do you propose to get her back?
For starters, he’d stop pretending he was helpless. He wasn’t stranded on the shoreline. He didn’t have to wait for some kind-hearted souls to come and push him back into the sea.
He could do this himself. All he needed was a plan.
Chapter Six
Gloria’s bedroom was her oasis. She’d decorated it to inspire warmth and comfort, from the dusty rose-painted walls, to the rose and cream-colored comforter on her queen-sized bed, to the burnished cherry wood dresser and armoire. Once the room she shared with her husband, it was now hers alone, the place to which she retreated when she needed to settle her thoughts and escape the busyness of her life.
This Sunday afternoon, she sat on her bed, sorting through old memories when she heard the front door unlock.
“Mom?” Desi’s voice echoed from the hallway.
“In here.”
Desi entered the room. “Ash had to work this afternoon. I just wondered if you’d like to go grab a coffee or see a movie.” She pushed aside a couple of shoeboxes to sit next to her mother. “What are you doing? Cleaning out the closet?”
Gloria placed a shoebox on her lap and opened it. “Just going through some old letters.”
Desi nodded wisely. “Oh,
Papi’s
love letters to you.”
“Desiree! How did you know about them? Were you nosing around in my things?”
Her daughter rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mom. I found them years ago when I was a kid. I was curious. It’s not like you hid them very well, for goodness sake. Like I wouldn’t check out the back of your closet.” She tsked, shaking her head at her mother’s lack of imagination.
“Hmm. And here I thought I’d hidden them brilliantly. I forgot what a little snoop you were.” Gloria removed a letter from the box and unfolded it, smiling at Emilio’s familiar scrawl.
“I looked at a few,” Desi said. “But they were pretty boring to my twelve-year-old self. Just a lot of mushy love stuff. Then
Abuelita
found me in here and told me it was a sin to read someone’s private letters. She made me feel so guilty I never so much as peeked at them again.”
“Well, you’re a grown up, no need to feel guilty anymore. If you’d like to look at a few, it’s fine with me.”
Desi’s eyes lit up. “Really?” She took a letter, then let it dangle between her fingers. “Wait. There’s nothing X-rated in these, is there? There are some things about my parents I
don’t
want to know.”
“Desi, don’t be ridiculous.” A flash of unease made her hesitate. “Uh, hold on.” She took the letter from her daughter’s hand and quickly scanned it before handing it back. “No, that one’s fine. Go ahead.”
“Mom!” Desiree’s plaintive, horrified cry made her sound just like the twelve-year-old she once was.
Gloria snickered, then went back to reading her own letter. For the first few years after Emilio died, she’d returned to these letters again and again to remind herself of their love. Remind herself that he would always be with her. But as time went on, she’d come to them less and less often.
Maybe that was the problem. She’d told Desiree that Emilio was her once-in-a-lifetime love, but truth be told, his memory had dimmed over time. Perhaps that was inevitable. After all, she’d had to work, care for her daughter, move on with her life.
There had been other men. She’d been completely faithful to Emilio, body and soul, when he was alive. But once he was gone, he had no use for her body. He was an earthy, physical man who understood that women had the same needs as men. Gloria knew he wouldn’t begrudge her seeking companionship and warmth. Sensual pleasure. And she was always careful in her choice of partners. Her liaisons were physically satisfying, based on friendship and respect. Never on love. She remained faithful to Emilio in her heart.
But Bryan had slipped by her guard. She’d told herself she was only trying to
help
him, but she was kidding herself. The more time she spent with him, the deeper her attraction grew. Their kiss three days ago only proved it. Even now, as she remembered his honey-flavored kisses, heat spiraled through her and her lips tingled.
She’d made the right decision not to see him again. She didn’t want to be the spoiler, even if Bryan and Courtney were officially no longer a couple. As long as his feelings were engaged elsewhere, Gloria would be the “other woman.”
Don’t lie to yourself. You’re not just being noble. You’re scared.
Deep down her feelings for Bryan were more than simple physical attraction. Which made no sense, as they’d only spent a few hours together over the span of two days. Being with him was exhilarating and a little frightening. No point in hiding from the truth. She wanted to sleep with him. Desperately. But if they went to bed together, she wasn’t sure she’d escape with her heart intact.
And how would Emilio feel about that?
“Oohhh.” Desi’s coo of admiration drew her attention. “
Mami
, he wrote you a poem.”
Gloria placed her letter back in the shoebox, unable to read further with Bryan on her mind. She’d have to work harder to shake him loose.
“Yes, we loved poetry, your father and I. We used to lie in bed together and read it to each other.” Those were some of her most special memories of her husband. Lopez was one of their favorite poets, which was why Gloria had ordered his early collection from Mr. Miłosc. How sad that she couldn’t share it with Emilio.
Desi sighed, holding her father’s letter to her chest. “So romantic.”
“So which poem did you find?”
“The one about your hair. All the ways he describes it. It’s strange, though. I don’t remember him being so poetic. It doesn’t sound like him.”
True enough. He’d been a passionate man, but not a particularly expressive one. He believed in deeds more than words. Gloria tried to make sense of it herself. “Well, they’re different things, speaking and writing. Some people can express themselves on paper in a way they never could face to face.” She thought immediately of Bryan’s letter.
“I guess, but it’s almost like someone else wrote it.” Desi read on silently for a bit, then looked at her mother with some surprise. “Wow. This is good.”
“Yes, it is.” Pride warred with guilt in Gloria’s breast. She’d had a man who loved her so much he’d written her poetry, beautiful poetry. She’d almost let herself forget that after spending a few mere hours with Bryan.
“No, I mean it’s
really
good. Like, good enough to be published. Not that I’m an expert…”
“He wrote others that were just as beautiful,” Gloria said. “I even told him once he should send them somewhere, try to see if he could publish them.”
“What did he say?”
“Oh, he was too embarrassed. Said they were only for me. He was a
manly
man, your father. I guess he was afraid his bros would think less of him if they knew about the poetry.”
“That’s too bad.” Desi shifted on the bed, giving her mother a serious look. “So, uh, are you still seeing Professor Dunn?”
“Mr. Dunn and I are done.” Gloria smiled weakly at the lame pun.
Desi’s protective instincts immediately kicked in. She snapped to attention, her eyes sparking with anger. “What happened? What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything.” Gloria didn’t want her daughter getting the wrong idea about Bryan. Nothing that happened was his fault. “The friendship ran its course.”
“Really?” Desi watched her carefully. “Well, I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I’ve got to say I’m relieved. The guy’s a player.”
“Yes, so you’ve said. My not seeing him anymore has nothing to do with that.”
“I’ll just bet.” Desi’s full lips narrowed to a thin line. “Want me to go kick his ass?”
Gloria gave her the side eye. “That’d be quite the feat in those heels.”
“What?” Desi rolled her ankle and looked down to admire her strappy pumps. “Just ’cause I love cute shoes doesn’t mean I can’t throw down in defense of my mom.”
“There will be no throwing down,” Gloria told her. “No ass kicking. End of discussion.”
Desi reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Are you all right,
Mami
? You look sad.”
She sighed. “No, not sad, really. Just…”
“What did he do?”
“Desiree, stop it. He did nothing.”
“Have you…are you in love with this guy?” Her daughter looked very young, like the little girl she used to be, when she asked that question.
“No.”
I could be if I let myself
. She kept that thought to herself, knowing instinctively it wasn’t something Desi would want to hear. “It wouldn’t matter if I was, because
he’s
in love with someone else.”
Desi’s mouth flattened. “That’s BS. Guys like him don’t fall in love. That’s probably something he just made up to get you to feel sorry for him.”
“Stop it. When did you become so cynical?”
“Since I found out my mother was dating a man whore.”
Gloria recoiled. “We weren’t dating. And please don’t use that disgusting term.”
Desi rolled her eyes. “Man whore? If the shoe fits…” She subsided at Gloria’s pointed look. “Okay, okay. So who is this chick he’s supposedly so in love with?”
Gloria hesitated, then thought
what’s the harm?
“Her name’s Courtney.”
“Courtney.” Desi repeated the name as though making a mental note. “I’ll ask Ash if she knows anything.”
“Don’t. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s his private business. Just leave it alone.”
“All right,” Desi said quickly. Too quickly.
Gloria knew her daughter only too well, and the innocent look on Desi’s face didn’t fool her one bit. “I’m serious.”
Desi lifted her hands, showing her palms in a sign of surrender. “Whatever you say.”
Gloria replaced the lid on the shoebox and sighed. “Come on. Let’s go get that coffee.”
****
The following Thursday,
Gloria had finished sweeping the salon floor and was about to turn off the lights when someone tapped at the front door.
Bryan.
Her heart quickened in excitement even as a shadow of dread settled over her. He shouldn’t be here.
“Gloria.” He spoke from the other side of the glass. “Let me in. We need to talk.”
She shook her head. “Please go home.” She wanted to do the right thing. Why was he making it so hard for her to be strong?
He didn’t budge. “Please. I have something for you.” He held up a square white box that looked like it came from a bakery. He’d brought her cookies? She was about to refuse again when he added, “I made it for you.”
She wavered, touched that he’d gone to the trouble of making something for her. Curiosity got the best of her, and she unlocked the door.
“It’s really not a good idea, you being here,” she said even as she stepped back to let him enter.
He swept past her to set the box on the front counter. “I couldn’t let things end like that.” He turned and looked at her. The fire in his eyes brought out a mist of perspiration on the back of her neck.
She spoke quickly to distract herself from the heat rising inside her. She nodded at the bakery box. “What’s in there?”
He opened it. On a plate stood a quivering white custard swimming in a caramelized sauce.
Gloria gaped in surprise. “You made me a flan?”
“You said it was your favorite dessert. That your
abuelita
used to make it for you and your daughter.”
And he remembered. That moved her as much as the fact he’d made it for her. The thickness in her throat made it impossible to speak.
He misunderstood her silence. “Doesn’t it look right? I’m not much of a cook, but I found a recipe online.”
“No. No, it looks delicious.” She swallowed hard. “But I don’t understand.”
“Gloria, spending time with you…” He shook his head. “It’s made me realize that I’ve been living in the past. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to live in the now. I want to get to know you better and see where that takes us.”
Yes, yes!
But… “What about Courtney?”
“Courtney doesn’t want me. She’s made her decision.”
“But if you still love her—”
“It’s not love. It hasn’t been for a while. I guess I just didn’t want to face it.” His intense gaze seared her. “It wasn’t ’til I met you that—”