Chapter 3
Marie stared out the window of Ann’s Honda Pilot as they drove south on the 405. “Where did you say we’re going?”
“Océanos Latin Cantina in Santa Monica, across the street from the beach. I’ve heard good things about it. The Latin vibe is what we’re after for you, honey.” Ann smiled at Marie.
“Well, I hope I don’t ruin your fun. I’m feeling exposed in this dress you made me wear.” She looked down at the white, fitted spaghetti-strap dress with the magenta fade along the bottom edge.
“Not at all. It looks amazing with your gorgeous tan and hourglass shape. Shit, it fits you better than me.” Her flattery was genuine, but Marie blew it off. It was just Ann being cute.
“What about my hair? I never leave it down. A French twist, or a ponytail?”
“Neither; a French twist screams uptight. For a Latin club wear your hair down. Be fun and sexy.” Ann winked as she kept her eyes on the road.
“This ombre print, is it too young for a woman my age?”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“We’re the same damn age.” Ann pinched her lips together. “Enough already. You’re bringing me down.”
“Sorry,” Marie said in a quiet voice.
“You’re sexy, freakin’ hot…what more can I say?” Ann gripped the steering wheel. “First thing I’m doing is ordering up a round of shots…maybe two rounds.”
“Wait! I don’t want to get drunk. I haven’t done shots in a long time. I refuse to get drunk.”
“Marie, loosen up. Nobody is talking about getting drunk. Don’t be so paranoid. Craig’s not around to control you anymore.”
Marie clutched her purse against her chest. “I’ll try to relax.”
“Good. We will have a great time, promise.”
Marie nodded, pulling down the visor for the mirror. She wore a little more eye makeup than she would normally, but she rather liked it. She didn’t care for lipstick, so she applied a tinted lip gloss instead. It was all her full lips needed.
“Now, do you remember how to dance?” Ann teased.
“I do, but I will not be dancing.” Marie rolled her eyes.
“Here we go…round two with my sweet, irritating girl being stubborn as hell. Surely you’ve been taking lessons from Jackson.” Ann scratched the back of her hair, fluffing it.
Marie pressed her lips together. Ann’s comment was well-taken. Her nerves were making her act ridiculous. She was usually calm and collected. At work, she was on top of everything—professional, intelligent, and never silly. Yup, she needed to get a grip, and quick.
Thinking back to her youth, she remembered being confident…strong, sassy, and fun. School had been easy for her, and she had a lot of friends. The take-charge girl had her life all planned out: college, marriage, and kids. Her plan took an unexpected turn when she got pregnant with Lexi at eighteen. Craig had told her “pulling out” was all he needed to do, because he didn’t want to wear a condom, and she had believed him. How could she be so naïve? But Marie was, and it had cost her big. Sure, she loved her kids more than anything, but her life didn’t turn out the way she thought it would. A divorcée and mother of two, what was she supposed to do now? She took a deep breath as Ann pulled into a parking spot.
“Ann,” she began, “I’ll try to have a good time, but I need you to be patient with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been single. In my head, I’m still a wife.” She grimaced.
“I know, honey. I get it. I won’t let anything happen to you. Now let’s go have good food, yummy drinks, and fun with our girls.”
When Marie and Ann walked into the cantina, the packed entryway had people lined up for a table. Fortunately for them, they had reservations. Tessa and Brooke had already arrived and were at a table near the dance floor. The waitress led the women to the half-moon booth, and the girls gushed over Marie.
“Damn woman, you clean up well,” Tessa said. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Shit, I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair down,” Brooke added. “Is that cleavage?” Brooke’s eyes bulged as she stared at Marie’s chest.
“Um, wow…thanks.” Marie self-consciously covered what little cleavage showed as she slid into the booth next to Tessa. Ann sat on the other end next to Brooke. She winked and motioned for Marie to lower her hand.
“What can I get you ladies, to drink?” the cute, young waitress asked.
“We’ll have a round of tequila shots…Patrón,” Ann answered for the table. The waitress nodded and left.
Marie scanned the club, the vibe electrifying, with people eating, drinking and talking with exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures. She couldn’t recall the last time happy people surrounded her. The Latin decor was bright and festive with hues of crimson, gold, and emerald. Terracotta tiles lined the walkway leading to a bamboo dance floor. Enticing energy rippled off the spirited dancers as they shook every part of their bodies to “Conmigo,” a familiar salsa beat that brought a smile to her face.
It was like she was back home, a teenager at a family fiesta, minus the wild kids running around. Their gatherings were the best, especially the music. How she’d missed Latin melodies…mambo, salsa, mariachi. Then there was “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White,” her grandparents’ song. At every Valdez family gathering, the song played just for Pancho and Carmelita. Marie always admired their love and commitment to each other. It’s what she always wanted in her marriage. Dancing with her love to a romantic Latin melody would have completed her dream.
After her parents, Henry and Rosa had moved to Miami, the Valdez family get-togethers decreased. Relatives scattered around the world and the once tight-knit Valdez community dwindled down to only a few in Southern California, one being Marie. The hardest part was being with Craig’s family all the time instead of her own. Just like Craig, they didn’t care for her traditions and culture. Little by little her Latin roots disappeared, and it had started with the music.
Now surrounded by her heritage once again, she was overwhelmed with excitement—and the awakening of her soul. Its dormant slumber had begun seventeen years ago when Craig took control of every aspect of her life. She smiled at Ann and mouthed, “Thank you,” just as the waitress returned with their tequila shots.
“All right, ladies, lift your glasses. To Marie! May this be the first step in reinventing yourself. Self-discovery is a wonderful thing sweetheart. Enjoy the journey.” Ann smiled. “Salúd!” The table of girls cheered “Salúd” then pushed back their shots.
“Whoa!” Marie gasped from the burn of the alcohol. She was glossy-eyed and breathing heavily; it had been a long time since her last shot of tequila.
An hour had passed since the girls’ first round of drinks. Marie was the most relaxed she’d been in years. The waitress had just removed all their plates and taken their drink orders for the third time. Marie had just ordered a second margarita when a guy approached their table, his eyes locked on Brooke.
“Hi, would you like to dance?” he asked Brooke.
“Sure.” She smiled, nudging Ann to let her out of the booth. The three women watched them walk to the dance floor with interest. Marie fidgeted with her cocktail napkin, wondering who would dance next. Ann, maybe?
“Isn’t he cute?” Ann said as she slid back into the booth.
“Meh, he’s okay,” Tessa replied, unimpressed. “You know Brooke never declines an invite to dance. Cute isn’t a prerequisite.”
Marie chewed on her lower lip, taking it all in. “I’ll be back.” She pointed to the bathroom.
“I’ll go with you,” Ann said.
“I’ll guard the drinks.” Tessa laughed as she lifted her sangria to her lips.
“Well, you didn’t seem impressed by Brooke’s dance partner,” Ann said as they approached the ladies’ room.
“Everybody is different. She’s such a pretty girl, and he’s average-looking, I guess. Not my type. The beer belly is a turnoff.” She preferred an athletic, muscular physique. Craig had worked out hardcore while playing football, and he never let himself go after becoming a husband and father. Then again, he also preferred a fit woman, but Marie struggled to stay in shape. Between being a wife, mother, and working, it was a challenge to hit the gym. She often wondered if her softer body was part of the reason he cheated on her with such a young, toned woman. After the divorce, she had managed to squeeze in a few workouts during the week. She liked her body mostly—when it was only her seeing it. But her boobs were a different story. Nothing would make her happier than getting a breast lift and her stretch marks erased.
“Oh, come on, you can’t be so picky straight out the gate. If this is your attitude, you will never accept a man’s invite to dance,” Ann said, interrupting her thoughts.
“I told you, I don’t plan to dance.”
“You will dance with the first man that asks you,” Ann said as they entered the busy ladies’ lounge.
“Ha! Are you bossing me around again?”
“Nope, I’m making sure you have an awesome night.”
“Well, I’m not making any promises, but I have one requirement—Latino.”
Ann looked at her, surprised. “Latino? That’s your requirement? A Latino man?”
Marie didn’t respond as she walked into the bathroom stall. She didn’t know what had possessed her to say a Latino man was her requirement. Maybe her subconscious spoke for her? After the way Craig dominated and controlled every area of her life, why would she risk a repeat with another white guy? No, a Latino man would understand and appreciate their culture. He’d be like her.
Two bubbly women walked out of the stalls while Marie washed her hands. She couldn’t help but stare. Both women sparkled with vitality. They were young, attractive twenty-somethings with firm bodies and perky breasts. She glanced at herself in the mirror and glowered.
Ann followed behind them, unfazed, but Marie envied their youth and apparent freedom. Such liberties she never experienced in her twenties. The women talked and laughed without a care in the world. Did they know how lucky they were?
“I heard Parker is coming tonight,” the cute blonde said to her friend. She was reapplying lipstick that matched her taut scarlet dress perfectly. What a dress it was—it showed every curve of her body and stopped mid-thigh.
“I doubt it. Isn’t he filming right now?” the sassy redhead said, scrunching her natural curls. “Did you see last week’s episode?” She fanned herself.
Marie listened to the women, and whoever this Parker was, they seemed to like him. Ann jerked her chin for Marie to follow her out. She complied, thrilled to escape the torture of the young duo.
On their way back to the booth, an average-looking Latino stopped Marie and asked her to dance.
“No, thank you. I’m here with friends,” she answered.
“Oh, it’ll be fine.” Ann took her clutch and nudged her along.
Marie froze as the man took her hand, leading her to the dance floor with a cocky swagger that was not off-putting. However, her nerves didn’t care if he was a stranger or her favorite uncle Louie who had taught her to dance the cumbia. At this very moment, she wanted to sit her ass down and make like a mannequin until she could resume her normal, boring and lonely life. Get a grip, Marie, she thought. It’s just a dance.
Right away, Marie located Brooke in the crowd. The elation on Brooke’s face seeing her forced a sheepish grin out of Marie. The music encircled her, and in an instant, her worries dissipated. “Adrenalina,” an up-tempo song with a thumping beat by Wisin distracted her. She had never heard the song before but recognized Jennifer Lopez and Ricky Martin’s voices. I need to brush up on my Spanish.
Lexi sat engrossed in Jackson’s favorite TV show, Pierce. Unlike her mom who wasn’t interested in what Jackson watched just as long as it was appropriate, Lexi used the show to bond with him. “So, this professor, how did he get his special powers?” she asked him.
“Stung by an eel in Asia, snorkeling. The eel was radioactive.” Jackson grinned, bobbing his eyebrows up and down. “He’s the coolest superhero ever. And he never kills any of the bad guys. His powers turn them good.”
“Wow, I can see why you think he’s awesome. He’s not bad-looking either.” She nudged him when he made a gagging face. They both laughed, then stopped when Darth Vader’s theme song sounded on Jackson’s phone. “Who’s calling?” Lexi asked.
“Dad.” Jackson frowned.
“‘The Imperial March’ is Dad’s ringtone?”
Jackson nodded as he answered the phone. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, Jackson. How’ve you been?” His dad asked as if he hadn’t just canceled his weekend with him to take a trip to Vegas with his girlfriend.
“Fine.”
“I want you to spend the night tomorrow, and we’ll have dinner with Sasha. What do you say?”
“Um, I don’t know. I have Ricky’s birthday party tomorrow night at the bowling alley. It’s a sleepover,” Jackson said.
“Who’s Ricky?”
“My best friend,” Jackson snapped with a scowl on his face.
“Yeah well, there will be other birthdays. It’s my weekend, and I want you tomorrow. Go ask your mom.”
“She’s not here.”
“It’s after nine, where is she?”
“Out with the girls. Lexi’s here,” Jackson said.
“Put her on the phone.”
Jackson turned toward Lexi and pushed the phone at her. “Here.”
“Hell-o.”
“Hey Lexi, where’s your mother?” he asked abruptly.
“Geez…I’m great, how are you, Dad?” She heard him huff. “Never mind. She’s with Ann and the girls. They went out to a club. Why?”
“A club? She doesn’t go to clubs.” He scoffed. “I’m calling about Jackson. I want him tomorrow night. I would’ve emailed, but I thought it better to call since it was last minute,” Craig explained.
“Well, she’s not here,” Lexi repeated.
“Call and ask her, then text me. I’m sure she’ll say yes. It’s stupid I have to ask to see my son,” he snapped.
“Should’ve thought about that before you cheated,” she said under her breath.
“What did you say?”
“I’ll call her and let you know what she says.”
“Tell her not to be out late. A woman her age has no business being at a club.”
“Wow, that’s insulting. Did you mean to say that?”
“Watch yourself,” he returned.
“I could say the same to you. I’ll text you her answer. Bye.” And with that Lexi ended the call. “Grrr, he’s rude!” Jackson faced forward, eyes on the TV. “Hey, you okay?”
“Now I can’t go to Ricky’s birthday party,” he said, deflated.
“Aww, maybe Mom will say no since Dad had canceled originally.”
“She won’t, she never does. I thought he was going to be in Vegas all weekend.” He huffed.
“It is strange that he’ll be back and wants to see you.”
The rush of adrenaline Marie had coursing through her body while she danced overpowered her thoughts. The song was a perfect introduction to living. The Latino dancing before her wasn’t bad-looking. And familial. He had coarse, wavy black hair, slicked back, dark eyes that could pass for black marbles, and he wasn’t much taller than her. A tattoo of the Virgin Mary on his forearm stared back at her—a little unnerving. Her eyes traveled up to his head, and a broad grin stretched across his face. She blushed and looked away.
The salsa moves Uncle Louie had taught her returned by the end of the first song, just like riding a bike. Actually, being Latino didn’t mean anything; plenty of people in her family couldn’t dance. However, the dancing gods had blessed her, and to her surprise, her partner could hold his own.
Marie didn’t see celebrity Parker Nichols off to the side of the dance floor, doing his best to not draw attention to himself. Beside him stood his manager, Victor Medina, and close friend Dave Sumner. In the sea of dark, gyrating silhouettes, Marie stood out in her white and magenta dress. She had more than relaxed on the dance floor with Brooke and the Latino. Hips in a full-blown shake, her arms swayed above her head as she spun around in a tight circle in front of her partner. Her long, dark hair flowed around her shining face.
Parker eyed Marie working the floor around her partner. He couldn’t remember if there was ever a time someone had mesmerized him. It was her carefree vibe…and that gorgeous body. Her tan arms moved with ease to the beat of the music; her shapely hips shifted from side to side, showing their experience. Parker imagined her lovely, provocative moves against him, but he didn’t want to imagine. He wanted to experience. The sight of her sent his heart-rate skyrocketing with each shake and shimmy she performed. Then his eyes moved to the man dancing with her. Who was he?
“Sir, your table is ready,” a star-struck waitress announced. He nodded, taking his eyes off Marie, and followed the waitress to his table. The gentlemen sat down and placed their drink orders—Patrón for Victor, Hennessy for Parker and Dave.
“Hey man, who’s caught your eye?” Dave asked, jerking his chin toward the dance floor.
“Nobody. I’m just checking everything out,” Parker said.
“Yeah right. You have that look you get when you’re interested.” Dave smirked, though his teasing did not affect Parker.
When the gentlemen had sat down in the half-moon booth, Parker stayed on the end, in case he needed to exit the club quickly. The waitress returned with their drinks and a seductive smile for Parker. “Thank you,” he said, ignoring the flirting looks from the waitress. He turned his gaze back to Marie, eating up her dance moves—and her.
When the song ended, Parker watched as she grabbed the cute brunette’s hand and pulled her off the floor, leaving both men standing there. He observed Marie with great interest and was elated to see her booth across from his, and that her dance partner did not join her.