“I don’t dance in strip clubs. I used to dance in samba bars, but the clothes stayed on. Now my services are primarily hired for private sessions like tonight. I’m that good. Women are willing to pay my agent whatever I desire.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re laying it on thick. No one is that good.”
“I am. I take pride in my work. Don’t you take pride in your work?”
“I do. In fact, I’m one of the best there is.”
He cocked an eyebrow, even more intrigued, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else she was good at. “Really?”
“Yes. Which is why I left the party early. Work is that important to me. I had things to look over.”
“Then how do you unwind?”
“Unwind? What is this mythical thing you’re talking about?” she teased.
Alejandro couldn’t help but laugh. His older brothers often teased him about working too hard, never relaxing. Only he didn’t really feel like he had the right to unwind. He had to work hard. He had too much to live up to.
“Perhaps you’re right. For those of us dedicated to what we do, there is no down time. Also, there is no perfection until all parties are satisfied, and I don’t think you were satisfied with my performance.”
And the blush tinged her cheeks again. “I’m sorry for walking out.”
“Then allow me to show you what you missed.”
What’re you doing?
“What?” she said, her voice hitching. “I don’t have that... I don’t even know your name. I can’t go off with a stranger.”
Alejandro reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his business card.
“My name is Alejandro. There is all my business information. I’m fully bonded. I take my work seriously and wouldn’t jeopardize that. I dance. That’s all. I’m not a gigolo and nothing untoward would happen. It’s hands-off.”
She took the card. “Why do you want me to go with you?”
“Like I said, I don’t like leaving a customer unsatisfied.” He held out his hand. “Your friend paid me to put on a good show for her bridal party. Please let me finish it.”
Never had he ever approached a customer, but it bothered him that she’d walked out of his performance. Or maybe it was the fact he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone so beautiful.
Either way, he waited with bated breath for her answer, expecting her to say no.
She drank down the rest of her wine. “I’m probably crazy, but this is Vegas and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”
His pulse thundered between his ears as he held her soft, delicate hand in his. “Absolutely.”
Five years later. Miami, spring
“YOU KNOW YOU MARRIED the ugly brother, right?” Alejandro was teasing his new sister-in-law Saoirse Murphy on her marriage to his brother. His ugly brother.
Saoirse, a fiery Irish beauty, had recently married Santiago, who was rolling his eyes as Alejandro and the twins, Rafe and Dante, joined in the good-natured ribbing. They were all the “ugly brothers,” but right now Santi was taking the heat because he’d been the first of the Valentino brothers to take the plunge and marry.
“It’s your fault,” Santi shouted, pointing at Dante and Rafe. “You two are the elders. You should be married already, then I wouldn’t be getting this teasing from the baby.”
Alejandro chuckled and moved out of the line of fire. He knew Dante and Rafe didn’t like to be referred to as the elders, but Santi and he had always done that behind their backs.
The elders were surrogate fathers to him. As Santi had been, before he’d run off and joined the Marines. All because of a robbery in the family bodega. A robbery that had almost cost Alejandro his life, as well. He’d been caught in the cross fire, taking a bullet in the chest at the age of ten.
He’d be dead if it hadn’t been for his father’s heart saving his life, and because of his father’s death he carried a piece of his father with him. It was a huge responsibility he carried proudly. Which was why he was now one of the best pediatric transplant surgeons at Buena Vista Hospital.
Speaking of which...
“I’m sorry, I have to get to the hospital. The new head of pediatric surgery starts today. Apparently she’s a bit of a culo duro.”
“Culo duro?” Saoirse asked Santi.
“Hard ass,” Santi said to his new bride, and then he turned to Alejandro. “Don’t judge the new head just yet, baby brother. She might not be as bad as the rumors make her out to be.”
Alejandro ground his teeth at Santi calling him “baby brother.” He hated that, just as much as Rafe and Dante hated being called the elders, but, then, it was all in good fun and he deserved it a bit for calling Santi the ugly one.
Instead of sniping back, Alejandro took Saoirse’s hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Sorry for not sticking around too long, so let me say felicitaciones les deseamos a ambos toda la felicidad del mundo.”
Saoirse’s brow furrowed. “Congratulations...wishing both of you...”
“All the happiness in the world.” Alejandro kissed her hand again.
“Suficiente idiota!” Santi said, slapping Alejandro upside the head.
“Ow, I’m not an idiot.” Alejandro winked at Saoirse, who was laughing, obviously enjoying the show of them tormenting Santi.
Dante snorted and Rafe rolled his eyes while Alejandro grinned at Santi, who was busy shooting daggers at him.
“Well, I guess we should be happy he kept speaking Spanish after Mami and Pappi died,” Dante groaned. “But does he have to upstage us?”
Alejandro winked at Dante. “Always, old man. Always.”
He left the bodega before his older brothers started a brawl. He waved to Carmelita, who’d run the business since he was eleven. She waved back, but was focused on her work.
Outside the bodega the heat was oppressive, which was strange for a spring day. It was always hot in Miami, but this was like summer. Moist, sweltering heat. Palm trees lining the street of the old neighborhood were swaying, but the wind didn’t suppress the cloying heat. A storm was brewing to the south.
Fitting.
He’d heard people refer to Dr. Bhardwaj as the Wicked Witch of the East, so it was only fitting her arrival be marked by a storm.
As he walked to his motorcycle a group of boys playing soccer in the street kicked a ball toward him and he kicked it back, waving at them. He knew most of the kids because their parents were people he’d gone to school with. People who had never left the old neighborhood, which comprised a tight-knit community of people from Heliconia, a small island nation in the Caribbean. He’d never been there as his parents had fled the country because of the horrible conditions long before he’d been born.
Only that didn’t matter. Everyone here in this neighborhood was family. Everyone stayed together.
Only he had left.
His apartment was in South Beach. He was disconnected from this place because it reminded him of his parents dying, his brothers sacrificing so much of their youth for him.
It was also the place he’d first met Ricky at a scuzzy samba bar where he’d danced