Every time Brynn remembered the dance in which they’d shared the duty as chaperones, a warm, expectant feeling stole over her. It had all started innocently enough when they’d first danced together. No one seemed to want to be the first couple on the floor, so Roberto, stiffly, had asked her. She knew from the way his lips tightened that he wasn’t keen on being her partner. Taking it personally, she’d glared back at him, letting it be known that she didn’t relish his company, either.
Yet from that shaky beginning, something fragile and exciting had blossomed. As the music started, Roberto had held her awkwardly in his arms, his body rigid, as if to avoid touching her.
Then gradually, as they’d warmed to the rhythm of the music, he’d relaxed. Because he had, she had too. Slowly, almost without being aware of what was happening, she’d found herself tucked securely in Roberto’s arms. It amazed her how well they performed together, how easy his steps were to follow. Anyone looking at them would have assumed they were longtime partners. Halfway through the dance Roberto had smiled, and she’d shyly returned the gesture. Then he’d tucked his head close to hers, and they’d continued to sway gracefully across the polished gym floor.
From that point forward in the evening, Brynn had looked for an excuse to dance with Roberto a second time. Unfortunately their duties had prevented them from spending any more time together. The teenage dance had gone on until almost midnight, and the high schoolers couldn’t have kept them apart more had they plotted to do so.
From the silent messages Roberto had sent her way, from the quick exchanges of eye contact, she’d realized that he was as eager to be with her as she was with him.
After the dance, Roberto had walked her to her car. At first they’d been shy with each other, not knowing what to say. But gradually that had changed, and they’d chatted freely. Brynn was certain Roberto had meant to ask her for a date, but before he’d had a chance, a fight had broken out between two boys. In his frustration, Roberto had closed his eyes and forcefully released his breath. Brynn had felt the regret in him as he’d turned away and hurried toward the scuffle.
Long after she was home, Brynn had found it impossible to sleep. Again and again her mind had reviewed the one dance she’d shared with Roberto. The memory had left her hungering to learn what would have happened had they been free to enjoy one another’s company.
The more she thought about Roberto, the more she admired his accomplishments. He worked hard and seemed determined to make his business a successful enterprise. He genuinely cared about his brother’s welfare and took an active role in the community. Father Grady, whom Brynn considered to be an excellent judge of character, couldn’t say enough good about Roberto.
True, they’d started off on the wrong foot, but Brynn was eager to make up for that and start again. If she did have God’s attention, then what she sought was for Roberto to be at church this morning.
Giving up the pretense of praying, Brynn opened her eyes and sat on the hard wooden pew. She didn’t see Roberto and couldn’t swivel around to look without being obvious.
Triumphant organ music announced the beginning of mass, which Father Grady celebrated. Not until Brynn stood to follow the others to the altar for communion did she spy Roberto. Instantly her heart gladdened.
He saw her too, because she watched as a brief smile touched his eyes.
After mass Roberto was waiting on the top of the church steps for her. Following the throng of the faithful out of the large double-wide doors, Brynn saw Roberto almost immediately and waved.
“So we meet again,” she said. She hated the breathless quality to her voice, but she couldn’t hide how pleased she was to see him.
He acknowledged her with a short nod.
“Did the boys give you any trouble last night?” she asked, wanting to learn the outcome of the fight.
He shrugged as though to say it wasn’t anything serious. “I separated them and had Emilio take Modesto with him.”
“I’m glad.”
Once again Brynn noted what a fine figure of a man Roberto made. She didn’t know what had blinded her earlier.
“So it was Modesto,” she murmured. That didn’t surprise her.
“Mike and Modesto were going at it until—”
“Mike?” Brynn interrupted. “Not Mike Glasser?”
“That’s the name.”
Brynn hadn’t seen the morose young man all evening. But then it would be characteristic of Mike to conceal himself in the shadows. If he had come to the dance, then perhaps some girl had caught his eye. Brynn hoped that was the case. She genuinely liked Mike and wished she knew how to reach him.
“It surprises me that Mike would fight anyone, especially Modesto.” Although she said the words aloud, she didn’t expect Roberto to comment. Mike wasn’t a fighter. Modesto was much more savvy when it came to such matters. The Hispanic youth would have dropped Mike in record time.
“Whatever plagued him was a hot issue,” Roberto commented. “From what the others told me, Mike went after Modesto without provocation. The funny thing is, I don’t think Modesto really wanted to fight him.”
“But you were able to break it up before anyone was hurt?” she asked, unable to hide her concern.
Roberto nodded, and a hint of a smile turned up the edges of his mouth. “No problem.”
Brynn relaxed.
Roberto was about to say something when Emilio strolled past casually and stopped as though surprised to find his older brother spending time with his teacher. “Mornin’, Miss Cassidy.”
“Morning, Emilio.”
The teenager turned to his brother. “Have you asked her yet?”
Roberto answered in Spanish, his voice low and threatening.
Emilio ignored him. “He’s going to invite you over to the apartment for breakfast. I’m supposed to make myself scarce.” He grinned boyishly and added in a low voice, “I’d be careful if I were you, ’cause it looks to me like my big brother intends to put the make on you.”
Brynn couldn’t keep from laughing, but Roberto wasn’t amused. He spoke again, and his tone was clear. He wanted his brother to shut up and leave them alone.
If Emilio felt the least bit threatened by his brother, he didn’t let it show. If anything, the younger Alcantara couldn’t have looked more pleased.
“You should have seen Roberto this morning,” he continued undaunted. His smile was full and cocky. “He was up at the crack of dawn, shaving and splashing on that fancy cologne he likes so well.”
“Emilio.” Again Roberto threatened him.
“He likes you, Teach, big time.”
Brynn knew smiling was probably the worst thing she could do, but she couldn’t make herself stop. Emilio was telling her everything she wanted to hear.
Disgruntled, Roberto pulled his wallet from his hip pocket and jerked out a twenty-dollar bill. “Get lost for a couple of hours,” he instructed.
A wide grin split Emilio’s face. “I’m outta here.” He looked to Brynn and winked. “Have fun, you two.” With that he was gone.
“I apologize for my brother,” Roberto said flatly.
Brynn arched one brow. “Was what Emilio said true? Do you intend to put the make on me?”
His intensely dark eyes didn’t waver from hers. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“Several matters,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Mostly on if you feel the same way about me as I do you.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I’d be honored if you’d join me for breakfast.”
“Does that mean you’re volunteering to cook?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then I accept.”
Hand in hand they strolled down the sidewalk.
“We have nothing in common.” It was as though he felt obligated to remind her of that.
“I certainly don’t agree with your views on education,” she added. If he was looking for reasons they shouldn’t see each other, she
had a list of her own.
Roberto’s chest deflated as he released a pent-up breath. “You’re Irish, I’m Hispanic. I have no business bringing you home with me.”
“But you are, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, as though admitting to a fault.
“Why?” Perhaps she should leave matters as they are and not ask.
“Because I had to know.” His voice was gruff with impatience, but Brynn understood. She was equally curious. Equally fascinated with him.
“I needed to know, too,” she admitted softly.
Roberto’s hand squeezed hers, and when she looked up, he smiled.
He brought her to the apartment he shared with his brother. The compact unit was decorated with large overstuffed pieces of furniture. The royal blue material had several crocheted doilies flattened across the back.
“My mother made those,” Roberto explained when Brynn ran her finger over the delicately crafted cotton threads.
“They’re lovely.”
“So are you.”
Before Brynn could comment, Roberto turned her in his arms. She came willingly, without a qualm, eager for his kiss. He didn’t disappoint her. Soon his mouth settled firmly over hers. His kiss was both hot and compelling. Brynn’s breath caught in her throat as he wrappped her securely in his arms. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck and breathed in the warm, spicy rum scent of him. The bay cologne reminded her of what Emilio had said, and she smiled softly and pressed her lips against his smoothly shaven skin.
“I meant to wait to kiss you,” he confessed, his lips in her hair. “At least until after breakfast.”
“I didn’t want to wait.”
He continued to caress her back. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, and stepped up onto the tips of her toes to kiss him again. The world dissolved, melting away any resistance that might have remained. “We’re both crazy.”
“The world is crazy,” Roberto agreed, “but I haven’t the strength to resist you.”
Brynn closed her eyes and pressed her head against the solid strength of his shoulder. She was content to stay as they were, but she wasn’t blind to their differences. What Roberto said was true. They had little in common other than the fact that they were crazy about each other.
Jenny was convinced she was coming down with a cold. Her throat ached, and she alternated between hot flashes and the chills. And she swore every bone in her body ached. A cold complicated by the flu.
She managed to sing her way through the two production numbers she was involved in from South Pacific. She smiled as if she hadn’t a care in the world, delivered the dinners to her customers, and counted the minutes until she’d finished her shift.
When she returned to the apartment the first thing she did was take a long, hot shower. Even with the comfort of warm water raining down on her, she developed a hacking cough.
“You don’t sound so good,” Michelle called from the other side of the bathroom.
“I’m miserable.”
“Do you want me to get you some aspirin?” her roommate offered.
“No thanks,” Jenny said as she opened the door. “I took some when I got home.” Dressed in a thick terry-cloth robe, she ambled into the living room and buried herself under the wool afghan her mother had mailed her last Christmas.
“I bet a nice hot bowl of chicken soup would help you to feel better.”
“I’m fine, Nurse Michelle,” Jenny teased.
“You need something,” her roommate insisted.
What she needed, Jenny realized, wasn’t to be easily found. More than at any other time since her arrival in New York, Jenny needed her family.
Jenny could feel a sneeze coming on, and she reached for a tissue and nearly blew a hole through it with the force of her misery.
“My goodness.” Michelle laughed.
“What about the Christmas party?” Jenny asked, wanting to take her mind off her woes. She needed to divert Michelle before she whipped out a thermometer and dispensed massive doses of TLC. Struggling as she was against bouts of self-pity, Jenny preferred to suffer alone.
“Oh, my goodness, the party! I nearly forgot.” Michelle walked over to her purse and took out a list. “I talked to Paul. You remember Paul Fredricks, don’t you?”
Jenny nodded, although she hadn’t a clue who Paul was. She’d figure it out in a moment.
“Anyway, Paul says the fifth would work out great.”
“The fifth is fine with me.” For the life of her, Jenny couldn’t figure out why they would need to clear the date with Paul Fredricks, but again that was something she would leave to reason out later.
“Do you agree?”
“Sure.” One day was as good as any other as far as she was concerned. “I’ll make sure I have the fifth off.”
“Good. I added Paul’s name to the list while I was at it. You don’t object, do you?”
“Of course he can come. The more the merrier.” Paul Fredricks, of course. He was the actor who’d captured Michelle’s attention and her heart after one short meeting. Her roommate seemed to think no one had noticed. Perhaps no one else had, but Jenny wasn’t as easily fooled.
“Look,” Michelle said, standing inside the kitchen. “The message machine is blinking.”
“I forgot to check,” Jenny admitted. The first order of business when she’d returned home was aspirin and a hot shower. “Who called?”
“I don’t know.” Michelle pushed down the button and reached for a pad and pen.
“It’s Irene,” Michelle cried.
It would be just like their agent to leave the most important news of their careers on the answering machine.
“I don’t know where you girls are,” Irene’s elevated voice said, “but I sincerely hope you’ll be home soon. Now listen up! I talked to John Peterman this afternoon, and he wants you both back for a second audition first thing in the morning. I repeat, he wants to see you both again.”
Michelle looked to Jenny.
Jenny looked to Michelle.
Michelle threw open her arms and screamed.
Her cold forgotten, Jenny tossed aside the quilt and raced over to her friend’s open arms. Together they danced around the living room, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Then Jenny started to cough again.
Eight
“Suzie, can I see you after class?” Brynn asked the Chinese girl. Of all her students, Brynn found real encouragement in watching this particular teenager’s progress. Suzie’s written essays revealed a quick, analytical mind and a thirst for knowledge. Brynn hadn’t said anything to Suzie, but she’d taken it upon herself to inquire about the possibility of a full-ride scholarship for the girl.
Suzie glanced up from her desk and blinked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” Brynn quickly assured her. She patted Suzie’s shoulder, and the girl returned to her writing assignment.
“Do you want to see me, too?” Malcolm called from the back of the classroom, disrupting the calm. That was Malcolm’s specialty.
“Not today,” she said.
Malcolm folded his muscular arms and leaned back on his desk chair until his shoulders were braced against the wall. His eyes were round with irritation. “I heard you stopped by my place yesterday and asked to speak to my mother. If you got something to say to her, you can say it to me first.” He lifted his chin an inch in open defiance.
It was clear Malcolm didn’t trust her. Brynn doubted that many of her students did, although she’d worked hard to gain their confidence. Again and again she butted her head against the thick walls of doubt and suspicion. To the best of her knowledge she hadn’t gone against her word once, yet her students acted as if they were waiting for her to knife them in the back. Certainly the incident with Emilio that first day hadn’t helped matters any.
“My stepdad said you stopped by my place, too.” This was from Yolanda.
“Are you looking to make trouble for us?” It was Malcolm again.
“What’d you want with my mom?”
“Yeah. You ain’t got no right to talk about me behind my back.”
Brynn could see that she’d best explain the purpose of those after-school visits. She’d hoped meeting her students’ families would be a positive experience; instead she’d incurred the mistrust and ire of her class.
Emilio sat up and looked over his shoulder. “Miss Cassidy comes to my apartment most every afternoon, and I ain’t making no fuss about it.”
His remark was followed by several boos and hisses. Emilio just smiled. He reveled in the fact that Brynn had been seeing a good deal of Roberto. What he said, however, wasn’t true.
“All right, all right,” Brynn said, holding up her hands. “It looks like I owe you an explanation.”
“You’re damn right you do.”
Brynn looked into a sea of angry faces. “Malcolm, you’re right. I did stop off at your place yesterday afternoon. I wanted to tell your mother it was a pleasure to have you in my class and report to her that your progress in the last few weeks has been nothing short of amazing.”
Malcolm’s mouth snapped closed. He looked confused, then relieved. “You wanted to tell her good things about me?”
“Is that why you came to my house?” Yolanda asked.
“Yes. I’d hoped to visit everyone’s family by the end of the quarter. Yolanda, I couldn’t be more pleased with how well you’re doing. You’ve maintained a B average, and I wanted your family to know how hard you’ve been working.”
“You won’t be able to say that about me.”
Denzil was right about that. His grades had been dismal, and he gave little if any thought or effort to his assignments. His contributions to the class were limited to disruptions and arguments.
“Well,” she said, thinking on her feet. “I thought I’d tell your parents how I’ve noticed your ability to argue an issue from any point. That’s the quality of a good attorney. If you were the least bit interested, you could make a career learning the law.”