Rosa Fernandez stared at the sea of wedding guests whirling on the dance floor. Her toe tapped to the beat of the salsa music, but she didn’t join in the revelry. Not when it was her responsibility to make sure everything was running smoothly.
Scooting around a potted palm, she made a beeline for the buffet tables and the wedding planner, relieved that so far everything had gone according to plan. Her big sister and her new husband had departed over an hour ago amidst kisses and good wishes. With huge grins on their faces and love for each other in their eyes, they’d headed upstairs to one of the finest suites the downtown historic Chicago hotel boasted.
Now, with the clock close to striking one a.m., the party would be ending soon.
And Rosa had yet to work up the nerve to ask a particular someone to dance. Her gaze scanned the crowd, looking for—
“It was a beautiful wedding, m’ija.”
Rosa turned her attention to her neighbor, bending to accept her hug. “Gracias, Señora Vega.”
Señora Vega smiled, the wrinkles on her face deepening. “You did a fabulous job. Just like the church senior social you organized last month.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Bueno, no one doubted tonight would come together beautifully in your capable hands,” Señora Vega said. “Taking care of things for others. That’s your specialty, verdad, nena?”
Right.
Or maybe it was her affliction.
Rosa kept the errant thought to herself, returning Señora Vega’s smile with a tremulous one of her own. “Yazmine and Tomás deserve the best.”
“Que nena buena eres.” The older woman patted Rosa’s cheek, a wistful sheen in her eyes. “Your parents would have loved this,” she said, leaning in for a good-bye hug.
Rosa nodded mutely, melancholy wrapping around her heart at the thought of how much she missed her parents. They should have been here. Sure, there was nothing any of them could have done to stop Papi’s cancer, but her mother’s car accident all those years ago . . . that should never have happened.
Resolutely, Rosa pushed aside the memories and guilt. Tonight was about her big sister. So Rosa would do her best to channel their mom and her knack for organizing the best parties anyone could throw.
As she wove through guests, the reception music changed to the heavy bass of a popular reggaeton song and the crowd on the dance floor let out a cheer.
“Hey, Rosa, come join us!” Arms raised overhead, her younger sister waved at her.
Surrounded by a crowd of her old high school friends, Lilí shimmied her hips and shoulders in reckless abandon to the Spanish rap music. Thanks to her sweaty gyrations throughout the night, her pixie haircut had lost some of its spike, but Lilí’s easy grin had only widened.
One of the guys snaked his arm around her lower back and Lilí plastered her lithe body against his. They moved to the music as one, simulating an act that more likely belonged in the bedroom than on the dance floor.
Rosa shook her head in bemusement.
Lilí puckered up and made a show of blowing her a kiss.
Ay, the little brat. A cocktail dress and heels could not a properly behaved young lady make.
Lilí sent another catcall in her direction.
Rosa waved her off. That style of dancing wasn’t really her cup of café con leche. Lilí knew that.
Lilí stuck out her tongue, then went back to her fun.
With a resigned sigh, Rosa turned away. Lilí might not understand that there were responsibilities to attend to, but she certainly did. With Papi’s passing earlier this year, Rosa felt compelled to take charge. Even more so than after Mami’s death when Rosa and Yaz were in high school.
Be responsible. Do the right thing. It was what Rosa did best. Even if her “good girl” reputation sometimes made her itch to break out of the mold.
She continued moving through the crowd, stopping now and then to chat with friends and guests, thanking them for their attendance, reminiscing about her parents.
She was halfway across the ballroom when a thick arm encircled her waist from behind.
“Red Rosie, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Recognizing her former classmate’s voice, Rosa bit back a groan.
“Hector!” She turned, leaning away from him, barely stopping herself from stomping on his foot with her heel. It would serve him right after grabbing her butt earlier in the buffet line.
“¡No seas mala!” he complained.
“I’m not being mean. I’m busy.”
“One dance. A slow one. Come on, Red Rosie.”
The embarrassing high school nickname grated on her already frayed nerves.
“Hector, I have to check in with the wedding planner.”
“All work and no play—”
“I know, I know. But tonight is all about Yaz and Tomás. So, how about you play a little harder for the both of us, okay?” Rosa schooled her face into her understanding yet I’m-not-giving-in expression. She might only be seven weeks into her job as the librarian at Queen of Peace Academy, but she’d been practicing this look in the mirror for months. “Marisol is sitting by herself. I’m sure she’d love to dance with you.” She pointed at their mutual friend.
When Hector gave her a sad-eyed pout, Rosa arched her brow, but softened it with a teasing smile.
“Está bien,” he finally moaned.
She watched him trudge away, part of her wanting to join him and the crowd having fun. Yet, her job wasn’t done.
After a short discussion with the wedding planner, Rosa learned everything was under control. She glanced from her peers, excitedly dancing, to the older couples chatting at the circular tables. Most people here would say she fit in better with the older, more reserved crowd. She heaved a sigh weighty with resignation.
No one knew about the increasing number of times lately that she wondered how it might feel to shake up the status quo. Do something just because it felt good, without worrying about consequences.
However, shaking things up might not be what the diocesan school board at Queen of Peace Academy wanted from their new librarian. She’d worked hard to finish her MLS on time so she could take over when Mrs. Patterson retired this past summer. Now was Rosa’s chance to carve her own niche amongst the staff, moving from former student to colleague. Allowing her to work on becoming a mentor to her students.
So what if she felt something was missing. It would pass.
Rosa edged her way toward the back of the ballroom near one of the portable drink stations.
“One ginger ale with a lime twist for the señorita, coming right up,” the bartender said as she approached.
“You remembered!”
The gray-haired man filled a cup with ice and smiled at her. “Why aren’t you enjoying yourself with the other young people?”
“I was just about to ask her the same question.”
Rosa started at the deep voice coming from behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder, pleased to find Jeremy Taylor standing close by. His broad shoulders and football-player physique filled out his navy pinstriped suit to perfection. Even though her heels added a good four inches to her five foot seven height, Jeremy still towered over her. He grinned, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. A thrill shivered down her spine.
“I’ll have what she’s having, please,” Jeremy said.
“Ginger ale?” the old bartender asked.
“Rosa, Rosa, Rosa,” Jeremy said. “How can you celebrate your sister’s marriage without enjoying a little champagne? Share a glass with me?”
Longing seared through her fast and hot. Ay, little did he know that she’d share pretty much anything with him.
Jeremy tilted his head toward her, urging her to say yes. But not pushing.
Ever since Yaz had introduced the two of them almost four years ago, Jeremy had been nothing but friendly, almost brotherly. After Papi’s death back in January, Jeremy had been amazingly supportive. A perfect gentleman.
Just not her perfect gentleman.
Now he waited for her answer, an expectant gleam in his blue eyes.
Technically she was off the clock. The wedding planner had said she’d wrap things up and touch base on Monday.
What could one glass of champagne amongst friends hurt?
Rosa nodded, pleased by the way Jeremy’s grin widened at her response. He held up two fingers at the old bartender, who winked at Rosa.
She gave him a shy smile of thanks as she reached for his proffered champagne flute, then sidled away from the bar.
Jeremy fell into step alongside her and her heart rate blipped with glee.
“Where’s your date, by the way?” she asked, striving for nonchalance.
The tall blonde who’d been his plus-one was the epitome of old money and high class, reminding Rosa that Jeremy came from a wealthy, established Chicago family. She, on the other hand, came from the island, her parents having transplanted from Puerto Rico to the Humboldt Park area of Chicago when they were first married, then later to Oakton in the suburbs.
Not quite the same pedigree.
“Cecile?”
“Uh-huh. Is she your . . . ?” Rosa let her voice trail off, wondering what his response might be.
“Family friend. I mean, we dated years ago, but decided we’re better as friends.”
Rosa breathed a soft sigh of relief.
“She ditched me a while ago anyway.” Jeremy lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Her parents are hosting a charity event over on Michigan Avenue and she wanted to put in an appearance.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“And miss this?” He jutted his chin out at the people dancing to a well-known merengue hit. Couples packed the floor, some more seasoned and coordinated than others, but all having a great time.
They reached an empty table and Jeremy pulled out a chair for her.
“I haven’t seen you out there,” he said. “How come?”
He sat down to join her, his muscular thigh inadvertently brushing against hers. Tingles of awareness danced a cha-cha down her leg.
“Um, well.” Hyper-attuned to his nearness, it took Rosa a second to respond. “This is more Yazmine and Lilí’s scene. I tend to be a much better party planner than a partygoer,” she answered.
“I don’t know about that.” Jeremy narrowed his eyes, giving her a mischievous stare. “I seem to recall you play a mean game of charades.”
Rosa laughed, remembering Lilí’s birthday party this past spring. It’d been their first family celebration since Papi’s death, so Lilí had kept it an intimate affair at home with the three sisters, Tomás, his six-year-old daughter Maria, Jeremy, and a few other close friends.
She and Jeremy had been on the same team. That night, they’d been on the same wavelength or something, quickly guessing the other’s clues before anyone else.
“Anyway, Yaz mentioned how you stepped in to help so she could relax today. Everything turned out great.” The pleasure in his bright smile, directed right at her, made Rosa’s breath catch.
She ducked her head, embarrassed by his praise. “It wasn’t that much.”
“Right,” Jeremy said.
She peeked at him from under her lashes. As always, she was drawn to his ruffled dark blond hair and square jaw. But even more so by his friendly eyes and the easy camaraderie they shared. At some point in the evening he’d shed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms. He took a swig of his champagne, eyeing her over the rim.
What did he see when he looked at her?
Anxiety fluttered in her chest at the thought.
No way did she measure up to Cecile, or any of the other women who traveled in his family’s social circle. Cecile’s diamonds had been real. Rosa wore costume jewelry she’d found on sale. Her navy taffeta bridesmaid dress was bought off the rack, and was far from designer label.
She tugged at her hem, uncomfortable with the short style Lilí had preferred. Hating the fact that even among her sisters she sometimes felt like she didn’t measure up.
They were movers and shakers, life-of-the-party people.
She was the low-key Fernandez sister.
For a long time, she’d preferred it that way, especially after . . .
It was just safer.
The thing was, safer often also meant lonely.
“How come you didn’t bring your own plus-one tonight?” Jeremy leaned toward her to be heard over the music, his shoulder bumping into hers. His earthy cologne teased her senses.
She shrugged, her bare shoulder rubbing against the cool material of his shirt sleeve. “Pretty much everyone I know was already coming. Plus, I thought it’d be rude to leave a date alone if the caterer or someone needed help.”
Besides, the only man she would have liked to ask was already on the invite list. With his own plus-one. And probably way out of her league.
Not that Jeremy had any inkling of her crush on him.
“Always thinking of others, huh? You’re pretty amazing, Rosa Fernandez.” Jeremy raised his glass in salute, with a playful wink.
“Thanks,” she murmured, his flattery and sincere tone causing heat to flood her cheeks and reminding her of Hector’s earlier Red Rosie comment. She despised the nickname that dated back to her freshman public speaking class and the vicious blushing episodes she’d suffered.
Rather than press her flute to her warm face, Rosa settled for a gulp of the cold champagne.
“Mis amigos, it’s almost closing time.” The deejay’s rich baritone elicited a groan of disapproval from the partiers. “We’ll play our last slow song, then finish the night with a bang. ¡Gracias por venir esta noche! For you gringos, that means ‘thanks for coming tonight’ to celebrate Yazmine and Tomás’s wedding! Now, here’s one for all you couples out there.”
The beginning strains of an old Spanish love song drifted from the speakers. Regret and loss tightened Rosa’s throat when she recognized the tune as one Papi and his trío had often played at their gigs throughout the years.
Around the ballroom, dancers quickly paired up. Rosa watched a young teen work up the nerve to ask a pretty girl from their church to join him. The girl hesitated, hands clasped behind her back. Rosa waited, anxiously hoping the poor boy’s spirits weren’t about to be crushed.
Dios, her adolescent memories were pock-marked with self-esteem-diminishing moments just like this. Waiting for this cute boy or that smart one to invite her to a school dance, or out for ice cream. Or even a library study session. The one time she’d tried taking the initiative, she’d bungled it. Badly. Eventually she’d given up on wishing for a date. Books were far safer companions.
Rosa watched the girl give a shy nod and the young couple moved to join the others. Beside her, Jeremy pushed his seat back. She turned to say good-bye, only to find him holding out a hand to her.
Rosa’s eyes widened in happy surprise.
“You’re not going to let the night end without allowing me one dance, are you?” His lips curved in an enticing grin.
Ay, she’d wanted an invite from him all night, but figured his date wouldn’t appreciate it. However, now the statuesque socialite was out of the picture.
Behind him, Rosa caught Lilí laughing with her partner, enjoying herself, having done very little tonight to help behind the scenes.
Diviértete, Lilí had chided her earlier during the wedding party dance.
Her little sister was right. It was time for her to have a little fun. The thought had Rosa’s pulse pounding like she’d already started dancing a salsa.
Rising to her feet, Rosa set her hand in Jeremy’s larger one.
His fingers closed around hers, the tight grip welcome, reassuring. He led the way to the edge of the dance floor where he pulled her close to him.
Arms draped around his neck, Rosa laid her head against the front of his shoulder, savoring the feel of his strength under her cheek. She breathed in, his subtle musky scent mixing with the warm sweat-laden air from the bodies surrounding them.
Dios mío, she’d dreamt of a moment like this with him so many times over the months of wedding preparations. Even penned a few stanzas in her private poetry journal about it.
His hands on the small of her back sent waves of heat pulsating through her as they swayed to the music. Their thighs brushed together, the intimate contact weakening her knees with desire.
“It’s been an incredible evening.” Jeremy bent his head closer to hers, his breath warming her ear.
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured. And definitely more incredible now.
“I wish Rey could have been here. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the church when Pablo read your dad’s letter.”
The shock of hearing Papi’s words still brought the prick of tears to Rosa’s eyes. Back at the church, plenty of men had reached for their handkerchiefs at that point, too.
“He was an amazing man,” Jeremy continued.
Knowing Jeremy understood how much Papi had meant to her and her sisters endeared him to her even more. Papi had always said that a good man recognized another. Jeremy and her father had shared that awareness. She’d been lucky enough to witness it.
Rosa tilted her head to look up at Jeremy. The white disco lights above them turned his hair to burnished gold, leaving his handsome face a mix of shadows. But this close to him, she couldn’t miss the depths of tenderness in his eyes.
“Papi would have loved being here,” she said. “He’d have been so proud of Yaz.”
“He would have been proud of all three of his girls. Especially you.”
“Pues, I appreciate that, but I don’t know . . .” she demurred.
“Well, nothing.” Jeremy brushed his knuckle across her cheek, continuing the path lower to trace the edge of her mouth. His gaze shifted down to her lips and back up again. Desire curled through her. “You amaze me, Rosa. Always downplaying your talents, but I know better. I’ve seen you in action.”
His finger brushed her lips ever so softly. Once. Twice. Slowly he bent toward her and she rose up on her toes, aching for his kiss.
Someone bumped into her side, knocking her off balance.
“Ooooh!” she gasped, stumbling in her stilettos.
Jeremy tightened his hold to steady her.
“Perdóname,” the older man apologized. His matronly partner reiterated the sentiment. Rosa waved off their concern with a smile and the couple resumed dancing.
“You okay?” Jeremy asked, stepping back a bit to look her over.
Rosa nodded, swallowing her disappointment. Ave María purísima, had their potential first kiss just been dashed? Now she’d never know.
Thankfully, the song hadn’t finished and Jeremy gathered her in his arms again, gently pressing her head to his shoulder.
His hand skimmed down her back, stopping at the curve of her hip. Tendrils of desire floated through her like wisps of sensuous smoke from a fire banked too long. She let her lids drift closed, lost in the thrill of his touch. The rush of pleasure at what might have just happened.
Unfortunately, the image of Cecile, his date for the evening, flashed through her mind. Guilt quickly followed, but Rosa squashed it. The woman must be crazy to have left early; obviously she wasn’t really interested in him.
“Let’s enjoy the last of the night while we can,” Jeremy said in her ear. “When I’m sitting in my office in Japan, missing home, I’ll think of tonight and smile.”
Rosa jerked in surprise. Japan? What was he—?
She stutter-stepped, accidentally catching Jeremy’s toes. “Ay, perdóname.”
“That’s okay.” Jeremy eased them back into step with the music.
“Um, Japan? What do you mean?”
Her question brought his gaze to hers. A confused frown creased his brow. “You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“My company landed a new project in Japan and they appointed me to lead the team. I told Yaz a few days ago. She didn’t mention it?”
Rosa shook her head.
“It happened pretty fast, actually. I leave in two weeks and will be gone anywhere from four to six months.” Excitement rang in his voice. He grinned like a boy who’d just hit his first Little League home run. “It’s a great opportunity.”
Six months overseas?
Dread crept over, threatening to ruin the best part of her evening.
The stunning news of his imminent departure, on the heels of what she’d thought was their heart-stopping almost kiss, left her feeling deflated.
“I’m . . . wow . . . congratulations.” She forced her lips into a smile, then quickly laid her head against his chest, afraid he might see the regret in her eyes.
The song came to an end and the deejay cranked up the volume for one final bass-thumping, beat-pumping fast song that had the others whooping. As Rosa and Jeremy slowly broke apart, Lilí slid into the space between them. Her head bobbed and weaved to the beat, her hips swaying in tempo.
“Hey, Jer!” Lilí glanced over her shoulder at him. “Give me a sec with my sister, will you?”
Jeremy glanced at Rosa as if to gauge her reaction before he tipped his head and moved away.
Lilí reached for Rosa’s hands, giving them a squeeze. “Look, me and some of the gang are going clubbing downtown. I thought I’d see if you wanted to join us.”
“Excuse me?” Her head still reeling from Jeremy’s news, Rosa was certain she’d misheard her sister.
“Come on, party with us.”
“Ay, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Lilí rolled her eyes. “You haven’t had any fun tonight.”
“That’s not true, I was just . . .” Rosa slid her gaze over Lilí’s shoulder, relieved to see Jeremy seated at their table.
Lilí stepped closer to her, pivoting to follow Rosa’s gaze. Her sister’s eyes widened and she quickly turned back around.
A mischievous grin on her lips, Lilí dragged Rosa to the opposite edge of the dance floor, away from the crush of dancers, but also out of Jeremy’s sight.
“Is something up with you and Jeremy?” Lilí asked.
“I-I don’t—” Mortified that she may have let her crush be known, Rosa waved off her sister’s question. “It’s nothing.”
“But it could be!”
Rosa shook her head, her face growing hot with embarrassment.
“Hey, girl, news flash, you’re only a librarian at Queen of Peace, not one of the nuns.” Lilí grabbed her shoulders. “Take off your control-top pantyhose and let loose for once.”
“I’m not wearing—” Rosa bit off the rebuttal when she caught the flash of humor in her sister’s eyes. “Ay, por favor, quit teasing.”
Lilí pulled her in for a quick hug. “Jeremy’s a good guy. What could it hurt to ask him to hang out for a bit once this all winds down? See what . . . develops.”
Rosa opened her mouth to argue, but Lilí cut her off before she could.
“Don’t answer that, just promise me you’ll think about it,” Lilí said. “I’m heading out and I’ll plan to crash in Trish’s room so I don’t wake you up when I get in.”
“Ha, more like so I don’t bother you when I wake up at a decent hour tomorrow morning,” Rosa countered.
“Bueno, que será, será. But I say, go for it! Either way, you got the hotel room to yourself tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
With a saucy waggle of her eyebrows and an impish finger wave, Lilí melted back into the crowd. Rosa couldn’t hear what her sister said to her group of friends, but they let out a roar of raucous excitement and upped the intensity on their mosh-pit moves.
Skirting the edge of the dance floor to avoid being trampled, Rosa headed back to the table where Jeremy waited. He tugged at his tie to loosen it and Lilí’s “see what develops” taunt echoed in Rosa’s head.
If only . . .