The Love of a Latino (20 page)

“You could have told me you
wanted to kill yourself, Cavos; I would have simply walked with my gun.”

Halting in front of his
visitor, he accepted the bottled water Sean Patrick tossed at him. Bringing it
to his lips, Raphael took several generous gulps before wiping the back of his
hand across his mouth. “Sean, what are you doing here?” He asked after sucking
in several deep breaths.

Eyebrow arched, his friend
grumbled, “You’re kidding, right?”

“I do not ‘kid’, Sean. You of
all people should know that.”

“Rafe, it was only today we
agreed that I would come over so we can discuss this crazy idea you seemed to
have dreamt up about buying the Chez Hotel. I did text you as a reminder.”

Pulling his phone from his
pocket, Raphael ignored the missed calls and scrolled through the messages.
Sure enough, Sean had messaged him. “I must apologize. I forgot.”

“You,
Raphael Cavos forget a business deal? This is something
new.”

Ignoring the wise crack,
Raphael strolled past Sean and started up to the house. “If you are still up to
it, give me some time to grab a quick shower and I will join you shortly.”

“Sure, you go on. I know my
way around.” Sean fell into step next to him.

Nothing was said between the
two as they completed the short distance to the house. Once inside the large
beach front home, Raphael went up to his room while Sean headed for the study. His
mother constantly expressed her concerns in him purchasing this house, but this
was one time her opinion didn’t matter.  The recently renovated, five bedrooms,
five bathrooms, contemporary styled house had cost him a pretty penny but to
him it was worth it. Being this close to the ocean somehow made him feel close
to Dahlia. No one would understand how much this little step was keeping him
sane. Adjusting the temperature to cold, he turned on the water full blast. The
stinging droplets punished his skin but it also cleared his mind.

Sean was downstairs to talk
business, so he couldn’t afford thoughts of his wife to overshadow the decisions
that would have to be made. Business man by day, lover boy by night, Sean Patrick
was every young girl’s Denzel Washington. Their friendship extended well over
ten years, mostly because they both shared one thing in common. They both loved
to make money.

The first time they met was
in business school. Sean was the black scholarship kid, while Rafe was the
popular, rich Spanish kid. Sean had taken an instant dislike to Rafe, but when
the two had finally clashed over a girl it was concluded that their time and
effort would better utilized making money together. That turned out to be a
major success as both men were now millionaires in their own rights.

Shower finished, Rafe dressed
in a caramel brown button down shirt and denim jeans, made his way down to the
study. Sean was relaxed on the wide leather sofa, a glass of scotch in hand. When
Rafe entered, he motioned to the desk where he had already poured his friend a
drink.

“So Patrick, what is it
exactly do you think needs to be discussed?” Rafe got right to the point as he
fitted himself into the seat behind his desk.

Legs spread wide; Sean rested
his hands on his knees as he concentrated on Rafe. “I just wanted to make sure
that this was something you really want to do.”

“Since when have you known me
to make hasty decisions, Patrick? I want Chez Hotel and I will have it. It is
as simple as that.”

“Nothing is as simple as that,
Rafe. You do know that you are going to piss off a lot of people?”

“I am aware of that, yes. Is
that your only concern?”

“I wish you would stop acting
as if you are buying a new car. This is people’s lives we are talking about
here. You just can’t go firing people as you like.”

“Why not? The hotel will be
mine to do whatever I please.”

“Look Rafe, I know you miss
Dahlia, but you can’t go taking out your frustration on other people. That is
exactly what you will be doing to this hotel” Face set in a determined line, Sean
declared.

“My personal life has nothing
to do with this, Patrick!” Pushing back his chair, Rafe slammed his glass down,
the brown liquid spilling over his hand and unto the table. Rising to his full
height he glared at the other man.

Sean didn’t so much as blink.
Remaining seated he looked up at Rafe. “This has everything to do with your
personal life, Rafe. You walk around acting like everything is alright, but we
both know that isn’t true.”

Rafe turned away from Sean to
stare out the glass window. The sun was beginning to set in the horizon,
lighting up the afternoon sky with its orange glow. Down on the beach a couple
walked hand in hand while a child pranced around in front of them. His throat
constricted at the sight. That is something he would never have.

“Rafe, you have to make a
decision man. Either you hop on a plane and bring your wife back home or you
let her go completely and move on.” His friend came up behind him, resting a
hand on his shoulder. If only it was
that
simple. To let go of Dahlia
completely, was no easy task. She had easily become the beat of his heart. How
could he just let that go?

Spinning around he looked at
his friend. “There is no need for concern, Patrick. I am fine.” He reassured
him. “I wish you had gotten a chance to meet Dahlia, she would have loved you.”
Rafe said, trying to cut through the tension in the room.

Taking the hint, the other
followed his line of conversation. “I am sorry I didn’t get to, but that
business in France was pressing. It needed to be dealt with, didn’t know it
would take so long though.” Sean chuckled. ‘That business’ happened to be a
French model that Sean was dating. The beauty turned out to be more than a
handful. Claiming to be pregnant, hoping that she would get him to put a ring
on her finger. Big mistake! Sean Patrick didn’t do commitment.

“Look if you
are
really serious about this takeover, you know I’ve got your back, Man. I just
want you to be sure.”

“I am!”

“Well, I guess there is
nothing left to say.” Raising his glass in a toast, Sean threw the last of the
liquid down his throat, only to grimace as the fiery drink scorched its way
down.

Rafe didn’t hear the key in
the door, but when the soft knock sounded on the study door he answered “Yes.”

The door swung open to reveal
Constance on the other side. She threw a quick glance at Sean before
apologizing. “Oh I am sorry,
Amor,
I did not know you had company.” She
was already backing out of the room but Rafe stopped her.

“No it is okay. Please, come
in.”

Constance was nothing short
of exquisite. Long, black hair fell all the way to her waist, high cheek bones,
grey eyes and a body that was magnificently curved.

“Constance, this is Sean
Patrick. Sean, this is Constance Martinez. Constance is visiting from Spain and
she is a guest here.”

“Pleasure.” Sean responded,
touching his lips to the back of her offered hand. Raphael smiled at the spark
of interest in the man’s eyes.

Constance was unmoved. Gently
removing her hands from Sean’s she turned to Rafe.
“Amor,
will we be
eating out tonight or dining in?”

“The choice,
Pequeña,
is yours.” He offered looking down at her.

Tilting her head to one side,
she lightly chewed on her full lip before she answered. “I think I would like
to go out.”

“Then we shall go out.”

“Okay. Please allow me to-
how do they say it- freshen up.” She ended. Glancing at Sean, she reached up
and placed a gentle kiss on Raphael’s lip.

No sooner had Constance
sauntered out the door Sean erupted. “What the
hell
are you doing, Rafe?
Have you completely lost your mind?”

“I am afraid I do not
understand what you mean.”

“I mean,
what the hell was
that all about?
You have a live in lover?” The other man shouted at him.

“Is that so strange? Men do
it all the time.” Rafe reasoned in an even voice.

Trying to drive his point
home, Sean pushed, “Not married men, Rafe. You and Dahlia may be separated, Man,
but she is still
your wife
. This is wrong. Do you know what will happen
if the press gets a wind of this? They will chew you to pieces.”

A determined set to his
shoulders, Rafe notified Sean, “Yes, Patrick, I am aware of that. However, I
will not allow the press or anyone else dictate how I live my life.”

“For God’s sake, Rafe, think
about what you are doing. The next thing you know, she’ll be pregnant and
looking for a ring.” His friend beseeched him.

“That will not happen.
Constance is here to serve a purpose. She knows that there will be nothing more
between us.” Rafe stated as a matter of fact.

“Does Lauralyn know about
her?”

“Yes,
Mamá
is aware of
Constance’s presence here.”
Mamá
also knew her reason for being here.

“How long has this been going
on?” Sean queried.

“About three months. I am
quite sure if you were in the country, you would have known. Constance and I
have been out in the public eye for a while now.”

“And the press has not picked
up on this as yet?  Well, you better prepare yourself because when they do,
it’s going to hit the fan. I just hope you are able to clean it up.” Emotions
on high, the two silently challenged each other with bold stares. Both men
known for their determination to win refused to give in, but this was one
argument Rafe intended to win.

Finally, Sean slumped his
large shoulder in defeat, “For the second time this afternoon, I am going to
say this, Rafe. I hope you know what you are doing.”

“And for the second time this
afternoon, I will say this—I am!”

Sean placed the empty glass
he was still holding on the table. “Since you have plans for the afternoon, I
think it best I say good night.”

Rafe came out from behind the
desk. Slapping his friend on his back he commented. “Sean, there is no point
for you to worry about me. I know what I am doing.” They exited the study door
and headed to the front entrance.

“I do not doubt that, Rafe,
but I wonder if you are considering the consequences your actions may cause.” Sean
offered as he shook Rafe’s hand before he left.

Alone in his study, once
again, Rafe’s mind replayed the events of the afternoon. This meeting was
supposed to have been about the Chez Hotel and his desire to purchase it.
Instead they had spent most of it discussing Rafe’s personal life. Although, he
would never admit it to him, Sean’s words had penetrated his defenses. His reasons
for wanting to purchase the hotel were a personal one, but not in the way Sean assumed.
Constance presence was another thing to ponder on. She was serving the purpose
she was intended to, but what would happen if Dahlia found out? It could
destroy any chances they may have if she ever decided to come back.

Emotions were something he
didn’t do well, and now more than ever he was confused. A part of him believed
that maybe it was time he let go. Nine months had gone by and she had not tried
to contact him once. He was well aware his mother kept in touch with her, but
other than telling him she was fine his mother never discussed Dahlia. The
other part of him, the one that grieved for her daily, wanted to hold on to the
hope that she would return. That part wanted to believe that there was still a
future for them—a future here, in this house, with the children they would
someday have.

So many times in the past
nine months he had wanted to hop a plane, as Sean had so nicely put it, and
demand she come home. Common sense warned him that this would be a blunder. If
Dahlia ever came back it would have to be on her terms. She would have to be
able to trust him again, love him again. Until then, he would have to continue
the way he was going. One thing would have to change though. Constance would
have to go. That would not pose a problem. He and Constance had an
understanding.
If
and
when
Dahlia returned he wanted nothing to
threaten that, and right now Constance’s presence would do exactly that.

****

“I want to go back home.”

Natasha looked up from the
meat she was marinating to study her sister who sat in the living room,
bouncing Trent up and down on her knee as she made weird faces at him. “Are you
sure?”

Looking up from the baby,
Dahlia answered with a nod of her head. “Yes! I miss him.”

A huge smile broke across
Natasha’s face. “It’s about time. I was wondering if I would actually have to
beat some sense into you.”

Placing the baby on the
carpeted floor, Dahlia rose and made her way to her sister. The recent
renovation Roger had done was really paying off. Just before Trent’s birth he
had removed the wall separating the small living room and kitchen, creating
much better access between the two rooms. Now, Natasha could keep an eye on her
son while she cooked.