Resplendent (14 page)

It was just after one in the afternoon and Andres wasn’t answering his phone. The generic voicemail greeting I heard on the other end of my cell phone was confirmation and I hung up. I threw the phone in my purse that was sitting on the passenger seat and let out a long breath.
Ridiculous
.

I closed my eyes and brought back the last image I had of him. Seeing him last night with his smooth demeanor had stirred up old memories. I remembered the black pants he wore on his narrow hips, the pin-striped black and white shirt that covered the toned arms I’d had wrapped around me more than a few times. He was perfectly capable of pulling off a casual look with a T-shirt and sneakers, but when he cleaned up to go somewhere nice — well, damn. It was sexy enough to make any woman take a step back and just
stare
.

He looked the same to me, yet different. At Abu’s funeral, two weeks ago, he had dark circles under his eyes, his brows furrowed, and posture slumped. Last night, I could see a little of the natural boyish charm had returned to his brown eyes. It seemed like a long time ago that those brown eyes had teased me with a playful twinkle and promises of mischief. The hair on his chin was trimmed with only a slight stubble, and if I took in a deep breath, I’d still be able to smell the scent of his cologne. I silently cursed myself. There was no doubt about my feelings toward him; I was in trouble. I smiled briefly at the knowledge he was still attracted to
me
. It didn’t matter that so many years had passed between us. I could still read him like a book. It was in the way he spoke to me, low but demanding, jealous but confident. It was in the way he touched me, his fingers leaving soft kisses on my skin with each caress. The whispers in my ear imprinting dirty thoughts that lingered in my mind well into the next day. There was nothing boyish about the way he made me feel. He was a man who knew how to handle his woman.

The slam of a car door next to me broke me out of my daydream, and I turned off the engine. I got out of the car and walked toward the entrance of
El Pueblito Viejo
, my favorite restaurant. Having only had a bagel at eight in the morning, I was
starving.
Nothing would make me feel better than some good Colombian food.

The hostess sat me down at a table in the far right corner. I thanked her for handing me the menu but told her I was ready to order without even a glance at it. There was only one thing I came here for so I knew exactly what I wanted. A
bandeja carne
— a delicious plate of white rice, red beans, skirt steak, fried sweet plantain, a fried egg, and arepa. It wasn’t exactly on my healthy diet plan, definitely a lot of food for just one person, and perfect for the comfort I’d been craving. By the time the waitress put her pad and pen away, my mouth was watering. I sighed; it felt good to be home. I unwrapped the napkin around the silverware and waited for my food for just a couple minutes before my phone rang. I quickly rummaged through my purse, cursing myself for my love of big bags. They seemed like a great idea at the time of purchase but then swallowed up all my belongings. The light flashing on the screen directed me to the right pocket and I pulled it out. My heart sank when I saw who it was. I contemplated whether or not I should answer it. As usual, heart won over mind.

“Hi, Seb,” I said curtly and tapped my fingers on the counter.

“Babe, where are you?” his deep voice asked.

“Having lunch,” I answered. I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling and shook my head. Our argument from yesterday about moving in together was still fresh in my mind, and I wasn’t in much of a mood to be friendly. All these guys were annoying me lately. Seriously, what was their deal?

“Where exactly?” he persisted. I smiled at the waitress who placed my soda in front of me.

“Does it matter? Are you going to come see me?” With the straw between my fingers, I stopped myself from taking a sip when he answered me.

“Yes.”

I sat up in my chair and straightened my shoulders, my mouth hung in disbelief.
He didn’t.

“What do you mean,
yes
?”

“I’m here, in Miami. I just landed.”

I placed my elbow on the table and rubbed my forehead with my eyes closed. We had agreed — a break was what we needed to think about what we should do. Apparently twenty-four hours was enough distance for him. I opened my mouth to respond, but he quickly continued.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I just want you to be with me, that’s all. You have these walls around you, and I don’t know why. Every time I think I’m getting closer, we take two steps back.
Please
, let me see you. I took a few days off from work so we can work this out.”

I smiled, in spite of everything that was going on. I couldn’t help the blush that was coloring my cheeks. He always knew what to say, and frankly, he was right. I always gave him a hard time. Not because he was a jerk, but because he wasn’t Andres — and that didn’t mean he wasn’t good to me.

“All right, let’s meet up,” I conceded.

I gave him the address and hung up the phone. Halfway through my meal, my phone rang again, and this time it
was
Dre. I narrowed my eyes at the handsome face that flashed on the screen. My mind was screaming not to answer; let
him
go to voicemail for once.
Humph!
But when I realized I’d miss hearing his voice, my resolve softened and I lowered my fork. I was dying to find out where he was and what had kept him from me this morning. This romantic heart of mine was very nosy and a bit of a betrayer.

“So, you’re alive,” I said, in lieu of a hello.

“Peach, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened -”

His groggy voice irritated me and I cut him off.

“Seriously, Dre? It’s past two in the afternoon!
Now
is when you decide to wake up? I mean come on...”

“I don’t know what happened. I only had a couple more drinks after you left, and then I blacked out. I don’t remember much of anything.”

“Blacked out?” I repeated and softly thanked the waitress when she poured my refill of soda. That
did
sound weird. From what I remembered, he had a pretty high tolerance for alcohol.

“Yeah, I just got up and saw your calls. I’m going to shower now and meet up with you.”

I scoffed. “Forget it now. I’m almost done eating and Sebastian is on his way here -”

“Sebastian? I thought he lived in Boston?” His tone was clipped.
Well, well, well.

“He does, but he decided to surprise me and come down. All the way from Boston. At least I can count on
him
.” I knew it was a low blow, but I was pissed. How could he be so irresponsible after running into me last night? After asking me to stay? Did he think it was all a game?

My ears perked when I heard something, and I slowly lowered my head. I pressed the phone into my ear and held my breath. Not because it was loud in the restaurant, but because I heard some mumbling over the phone, in the background. Was that a
woman
? I knitted my eyebrows together and covered my free ear, straining to hear what was being said, but it was futile. It seemed like Dre was covering the mouthpiece.
Unbelievable.

“Blacked out, huh?” I said into the phone and threw my napkin on the table.

“No, Peach. I did, I’ll have to call you back.”

“Don’t bother, Dre, get back to what you were doing.” And with that I pressed end and put my phone back in my purse.

I angrily cut the rest of my steak into pieces before taking bites, all the while stewing over what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I had finally arrived back in Miami from Boston because
this
is where I wanted to start a family, this is where I could start my photography business, and
this
is where I could reconnect. I shook my head; the blame for my frustration was on me. There was no reconnecting with my past — it should have stayed there. I had to remind myself that when I came here two weeks ago, I was making arrangements with my tenant. I needed to meet with a realtor to help me find a photography studio. Even though I learned that heartbreaking news of the passing of Andres’ grandmother, Abu, and I went to the wake, that wasn’t why I had come down. I wasn’t here for
Andres
. I was here for myself. I could laugh now just thinking about it. It was absurd. Nothing had changed between us. An attraction that ended before anything had even begun.

“
Quieres postre
?” The waitress asked about dessert before settling the bill. She had on bright red lipstick and a pad and pencil in her hand. She probably thought I was a loony sitting here by myself, angry-faced, and eating this massive meal.

I didn’t want dessert, but I did want Cuban coffee. I smiled at her warmly before answering, “
Solo Café Cubano, por favor
.”

By the time she brought me my coffee and I signed the bill, I had saved two internet links with studio properties on my phone. I glanced up to stretch my neck and saw that Sebastian had arrived. Waving him over, I took a minute to take in his features. Even though he seemed tired from his flight, he was sexy as hell. He was dressed in my favorite dark Calvin Klein jeans and a blue button down plaid shirt. His hair was the color of caramel and thick enough for me to run my fingers through, which I did, often. A pair of piercing jade eyes fell on mine. He had a strong nose and not a hint of facial hair — he shaved almost every morning. His eyes trailed my face as he made his way to the table, pausing at my side to kiss me lightly on the lips. My eyelids fluttered and I inhaled his aftershave, a blend of oakmoss, musk, and sandalwood.

“You look beautiful,” he said and sat down in front of me.

I returned the smile but didn’t say anything. That was just one of Sebastian’s endearing qualities. He always managed to call me beautiful even though I had gone to sleep late the night before, woken up early today, and had been moving furniture and unpacking all morning. My long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and I had on my favorite Victoria Secret yoga pants and matching tank top that screamed comfort instead of sexy. The only hint of makeup was some eyeliner I threw on before leaving the house. Beautiful was certainly not how I felt.

“Here, try this,” I told him and pushed the white porcelain cup toward him.

“What is it? Espresso?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“In Miami it’s called
un
cortadito
,” I told him, knowing he’d never tried it in Boston.

He took a sip and looked down at the hot, dark liquid. He frowned for a split second and then nodded his approval. He glanced over at me and smiled. “It’s good, strong.”

I smiled back. “It’s what people here use for a little pick-me-up.”

He placed his palm on top of mine and held my hand, entwining our fingers. I glanced down and swallowed.

“Can we talk, Savannah?” he asked softly.

When I looked into those green eyes of his, all I saw was the sincerity and love. We were always disagreeing and arguing about something but
never
disrespectful to each other. In the last year, he had become a constant in my life. We’d grown comfortable with each other. Besides, couples fought all the time, right? I bit my lower lip, hating the fact that Andres had weaseled his way into my life, again. I was sure my brain had somehow embedded his name to the frontal lobe — behavior, intelligence, memory, movement, — and Andres.

“It’d be a shame if you came all this way and we didn’t at least talk, right?” I asked. So we did.

If we were constantly waiting for something to change, or perhaps
someone
to change, the changes we seek are what are actually left waiting. If I wanted changes in my life, they’d have to start with me.

“A toast,” Eddy, my best friend, announced and held up his beer bottle. All ten of us grabbed our drinks and formed a circle around Adam.

“To Petty Officer Adam Hernandorena, the best coastie we know.”

“Cheers!” We toasted our cups and bottles and each chugged back our chosen poison.