Love Tango

“You’ve been turning up in a lot of bit parts lately.”

“Just keeping my hand in the business.”

“Are you thinking about making a full-blown return?”

“I don’t want to do a weekly show anymore or movies. I’m really happy just doing little bit parts here and there. And being a corpse works just fine.” She’d thought she’d hated acting, but after a few years and a lot of thought she realized she enjoyed acting on a limited basis. Her parents’ manipulation of her had been what she’d really despised.

“But being a corpse isn’t much of a challenge,” Nick said.

“Are you making fun of me?” She felt a stab of disappointment that he would judge her without knowing anything about her.

He looked startled. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

She said defensively, “You try holding your breath and looking dead at the same time for a minute or two and not turn blue.” She wondered if she could specialize in corpse acting. Was there such a thing? She liked the short jobs. In their own way, they were fun. Those jobs weren’t a challenge. She wasn’t in Death of a Salesman. Nick and Mike laughed. She glanced at Nancy and Portia who had zoned out and were bonding over their shoes.

“Your name has been showing up in a lot of places lately,” Mike said.

“Which I don’t understand.” Roxanne gave a little shrug.

“So, you’re not a fan of social media.”

“I’m more connected to the past.”

“Does your business pay well?” Nick asked.

“It does when I have celebrity clients. You’d be surprised how many actors and actresses are disappointed when they find out Shakespeare isn’t in their family tree.”

Nick grinned at her and the beauty of his smile made her blood race. She imagined herself in his arms and heat rose in her. “I can guarantee he’s not in my family tree?”

“Don’t be so certain,” Roxanne cautioned, but she wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or herself.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s been some controversy that Shakespeare had a longtime black mistress. And the fact that he wrote Othello does give us some clues into his social group.”

He looked so surprised, she laughed.

“If I agree to go on Celebrity Dance, who are you going to partner me with. LeBron James?”

“How about me?” Nick asked. He stood and pulled her to her feet. With her hands in his she stared into his eyes and tried not to focus on his very kissable mouth so close to hers.

“Well, I am enjoying looking up at you.” The top of her head was just even with his nose. His eyes held a sparkle that let her know he was attracted to her, too.

He took her in his arms and started to draw her into a simple waltz. She smiled at him and immediately stepped on his foot and a second later tripped on an uneven spot on the rug.

“Sorry,” she said. “Sorry.” Portia and Nancy clapped. Roxanne gave her sister her best stare-down which made Portia burst into laughter.

“That’s okay,” he said with a grin. “I like to know I have my work cut out for me.”

Mike stood and held out his hand to Roxanne. “My legal department will be getting in touch with your agent.”

“Trudy Mendoza handles my legal affairs.” Everyone knew Trudy. She was one of the best entertainment lawyers in the industry. She’d handled Roxanne’s emancipation and had become a friend along the way.

* * *

“That is one tall woman,” Mike said.

“I like tall women,” Nick said. And boy, did she have legs. A little fantasy played out in his mind with her legs wrapped around him. Heat spiraled through him and he stood up and walked to the window. He saw the women exit to the street and make their way to the parking structure.

“You two are going to look good together,” Mike continued. “But her parents are a piece of work.”

Nick had only been back in Los Angeles for a couple years and wasn’t up on all the current gossip. He’d had his own controversies in New York. He’d been involved with a Broadway star. Things had ended badly. She’d stalked him all the way to Los Angeles and the situation didn’t end until she’d been checked into a very nice mental facility. The movers and shakers on Broadway had been furious with him, because he’d put a guaranteed moneymaking legend out of business during the run of a very productive play. Nick had been lucky to escape to Los Angeles even though his reputation in New York was in tatters. Nobody liked whistle-blowers even when they were in the right.

Mike nodded. “Her parents wanted her to do this movie to get around child labor laws. They encouraged her to apply for emancipation. She did, was emancipated and refused to do the movie saying it made her uncomfortable. Before the emancipation came through, they tried to force her, but she had the brains to hire Trudy Mendoza...”

“I remember Trudy Mendoza. She’s the shark all the great whites sharks are afraid of.”

“She discovered some financial misconduct and before her parents knew anything, she was out from under their thumb. The news was she was able to get her high school diploma early. She ended up at Berkeley.”

Nick vaguely remembered the gossip, but hadn’t paid that much attention. The parents didn’t stay down long, because they specialized in managing child actors. Plus they had two more of their own biological children to exploit, not as talented as Roxanne who had been the big moneymaker, but still bankable.

Nick said, “You think when her parents hear about her being on the show that they are going to be trouble?”

“Nancy tells me,” Mike said, “they have been trying to get back into her good graces for years. She’s still a moneymaker if she wants to be. The public loves her.”

Nick could see why. She was just the kind of person he liked. Besides being beautiful, she was smart and funny.

“We have a nice lineup for the second season of Celebrity Dance,” Nick said. He liked diversity. Roxanne Deveraux would add just the right kind of spunk and sass that he liked. She could laugh at herself. That LeBron James line was funny. And that look of panic in her eyes when he told her he wanted her as his partner had been priceless.

“She’ll work out,” Nick continued, suddenly anxious to get her to her first practice. Already he was planning their first dance. They always started with a waltz because it was simple. She would be elegant in burgundy silk with her hair up, showing off her long neck. He’d wear a white tuxedo and matching top hat. He found himself swaying as he imagined their waltz.

“Nick. Nick. Nick. Where are you, Nick? Come back to me.”

Nick came back with a start. “Sorry, my mind was wandering.”

“I could tell,” Mike said with a wry tone. “I need to call the lawyers and get them working on her contract. You need to get back to the studio. The publicist is sending me urgent SOSs. He’s been receiving calls all morning regarding the guests for our summer season and when we’ll release the list.”

Nick had to laugh. “I’ll go help him field the calls.”

* * *

In the car, Roxanne handed her keys to her sister, climbed onto the passenger seat and leaned her head back as Portia cleanly navigated out of the parking structure and onto the street heading for the freeway.

“Thank you for the emotional support at that meeting.”

“You were fabulous.”

“You never did tell me what Mom and Dad want you to do?” Roxanne said, suppressing a yawn.

Portia drove up the entry ramp and merged into traffic heading back to Pacific Palisades. “You know who Javier Gomez is, don’t you?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“You probably know him as El Gomez. He got his start in Mexico composing narco corridos and managed to make the transition to the LA music scene.”

Roxanne stared at her sister. “What are narco corridos?” She had no idea who El Gomez was.

“Mexican ballads that glorify the drug trade and the crime lords in Mexico. Mom and Dad want me to date him.”

Roxanne sat up straight. “Are your parents insane?”

“They are your parents, too.” Portia said with a laugh.

“Only through the sharing of DNA. What...what...huh...what... The words just won’t come.”

“He’s edgy and trending. He has three million Twitter followers and another five million on Instagram. And he’s a kid. I’m twenty-two years old and he’s eighteen. He still acts like he’s the hot man on the high school campus. He struts. All he has to do is point his finger at whichever groupie is following him around at that moment and she falls at his feet.” Portia shuddered.

Roxanne opened the browser on her phone and did a quick search. A photo appeared of a good-looking teenager in a slick Latin sort of way. “He has a face tattoo.”

“And a tongue stud, ear plugs and a nose ring. He has more jewelry on his body than I have in my jewelry box. And he’s four inches shorter than me and I’m not tall to begin with.”

Roxanne scrolled through the photos and articles. “What do Mom and Dad think your dating this...this...man-child is going to accomplish?”

“The Latin market is the fastest-growing market on TV—discretionary income and, well, just about everything. They think it would be good for my career. They want me to be the first black actress on a telenovela because I speak Spanish so well.”

“I told you to take German in high school,” Roxanne said. Portia had been surprisingly good at languages and picked up Spanish in no time. “I repeat—they are insane.” And greedy. “What did you tell them?”

“Words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I just got up and left.”

“Is our brother on board with this?”

“He hasn’t objected. It was originally Dad’s idea, and if I wasn’t driving, I’d add air quotes to ‘they’re all bros now.’ I’d feel like Esther the molester.”

Roxanne continued to read. “Do Mom and Dad realize his uncle is Manuel Gomez? He runs the second-largest drug cartel in Mexico.” Her parents may have been the most difficult people on the face of the earth, but they didn’t condone drugs. For that, Roxanne had to admire them. She started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just went to my future place and had this image of your wedding. His side of the church, your side of the church and the DEA in the middle.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh. Right now, I’m picturing my bridesmaids in jailhouse orange.”

“Since I’ll be your maid of honor, can I wear horizontal stripes and carry a bouquet that could double as a prison weapon?”

“Stop,” Portia begged. “I’m going to run off the road trying not to laugh.”

“We can serve prison-gourmet food of chicken nuggets and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches,” Roxanne continued, the image in her mind growing more detailed. “And sit on hard benches and bang our plastic utensils on the table.”

“We’re done,” Portia said. “My stomach hurts from trying not to laugh. But the reality is...he scares me. And what happens if being around him makes me a target, too?”

Roxanne sobered. The more she read about El Gomez the more he frightened her, too. “They can’t force you to date him. You’re a grown woman. If you want to walk away, I can help. I have money and I can protect you.”

“I’m fine,” Portia said. “I like doing the commercials and voice-overs. And I’ll deal with Mom and Dad.”

Roxanne didn’t say anything to her sister—Portia needed her dream of escape—but their parents wouldn’t let her go easily. She might be only twenty-two but as the middle child, she was the family peacemaker with their parents using her as a buffer even between themselves. She didn’t like the chaos or drama that dominated their parents’ lives and did her best to soothe difficult moments, to keep things running smoothly.

They would find a way to keep her trapped. Roxanne pondered what she could do to help, but nothing came to her. Sometimes she felt sad that she’d extricated herself from the chaos that was the Deveraux family and left her brother and sister behind. When she’d been sixteen, she’d been more worried about herself and anxious to get away. She never thought about how her parents would exploit Portia and Tristan. And now, with her parents all of a sudden encouraging their kids to run with people with hardcore criminal ties, she knew she had to do something. She just didn’t know what. She would again offer to pay Portia’s college tuition or cosign for a loan, and maybe this time she’d accept.

Chapter 2

“I was surprised when you called me.” Surprised but pleased. Roxanne sat down at the sidewalk table across from Nicholas Torres.

The restaurant bordered Santa Monica Boulevard. Nicholas Torres had chosen an outside table to enjoy the pleasantly warm afternoon and watch the young people on spring break crossing the Pacific Coast Highway and making their way to the beach. In the distance she could hear the faintest roar of the waves and smell the tangy salt air. She loved living by the ocean.

“You looked a little uneasy yesterday,” Nick said, “and Nancy told me you’re concerned about being clumsy.”

A waitress handed her a menu and she asked for a glass of water.

“Uneasy was not the word I would use.”

Nick grinned at her. “What word would you use?”

“How about apprehensive, troubled or edgy? Or better yet, let’s try the phrase full-blown panic.” The waitress brought her water and she ordered a Greek salad with extra Kalamata olives.

“You seem very graceful to me,” Nick added.

“First of all, I wear flat shoes, walk slowly and concentrate on what I’m doing.”

“Dancing is the same thing.”

“At a much quicker pace. And then I have to throw in breathing and trying to look comfortable. I’ve seen some of the dresses you’ve put your contestants in. You know the scene with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers where she’s wearing this white dress with feathers. That is the most beautiful, seductive dance scene in the whole of movie history and all he could talk about was the feathers that kept flying into his mouth. I’m not Ginger Rogers. I’m the feathers—all over the place and in your mouth.” Oops, that was very suggestive. Heat spread across her cheeks. “Let me rephrase that...”

Nick just laughed. “Oh, no. You are funny.”

“Yeah I’m hilarious,” she said.

“You’ll do fine,” Nick said. “Again, the best dancer doesn’t always win. When you strip away all the glitter and sweat, it’s really a popularity contest. The person who wins is the one that connects with the audience the most. You’ve got that in the bag.”

“Then why do we have to dance? Why can’t we just be us and pose prettily?”

“Do you not want be on Celebrity Dance?”

She paused for a second thinking. “I’m going to be on your show. I’m going to practice my little heart out. I just don’t want you to be disappointed in me when I don’t measure up to your standards.” She had spent last night watching reruns on YouTube. His grace and talent took her breath away. She’d seen him dance on the show and watched clips of him on Broadway. That man could move like a cloud. Did he have any idea how sexy he looked? How strong and masculine. Oh, he gave her tingles in all the right places.

The waitress brought her salad and placed a thick steak sandwich in front of Nick. Their conversation paused while they took a few bites. “People who don’t try disappoint me.” He popped a french fry into his mouth and chewed. “I come from a big family. I have four brothers and two sisters and we’re all competitive. We all want to win. We all want to be king of the hill.” He smiled as though the nostalgic memories were pleasant.

Her own family was more about backstabbing, which made her sad. Weren’t parents supposed to love and protect their children? Hers had exploited her, and their selfish needs had superseded hers and her siblings’. “I haven’t done anything truly competitive in a few years, and I’m not afraid of anything, but there’s a reason my parents didn’t name me Grace.”

Nick grinned. “I’m happy my mother didn’t let my dad name me Heriberto and my twin brother Mattero like he wanted to.”

Roxanne started to laugh. She was enjoying her lunch with Nick. He was an entertaining man and from some of the looks she was getting from women at other tables, they were just a touch envious she was the one having lunch with the most handsome man in the whole restaurant.

“What happens next?” Roxanne asked. Her salad was delicious and the company was delightful. She felt herself relaxing.

“The official announcement of the next season’s contestants will be on The Morning Show with Daniel Torres next Monday and then later on Entertainment Tonight and The Insider, but before then, we’ll be doing short little interviews that will go up on the show’s website immediately after the announcement. I want to set up a time for you to come in for an interview. My assistant will call you later today with your schedule. We’ll start with hair, makeup and head shots, then do the interview. Next week after the announcement we’re filming a commercial. So you’ll need an appointment with the wardrobe department and then you and I will practice a quick dance move for the teaser trailer. Nothing elaborate, just something easy to showcase you.”

“I get to practice my dance moves.” She flung out her hand trying to quell the nervous fluttering in her stomach and tipped over a glass of water that ended up half in her salad and the rest quickly spreading across the table and dripping down to Nick’s pants. “I’m sorry.” She sprang up.

The waitress hurried over with napkins and started sopping up the mess.

“I should have just settled for jazz hands,” Roxanne said, chagrined at making such a mess. She was never at her best with men and the idea of dancing on TV in front of millions of people was making her more clumsy than normal.

He laughed. “I used to work in a restaurant and this is not the worst thing that has happened to me.” He took a pile of napkins and helped the waitress mop up the water. “We’re outside in southern California, my clothes will dry.”

Heat flooded her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t cry over spilled water,” he said.

The waitress wiped up the last bit of water and picked up the drenched salad. She grinned at Roxanne. “I can remake your salad but, honey, you look like you could use a piece of chocolate-silk cream pie instead.”

“No, thank you and I’m done with the salad. I’m going to have to fit in a tight dress.”

“Bring her a piece of pie,” Nick said, his eyes alight with amusement. “Trust me, you’ll work it off starting tomorrow.”

* * *

Nick found himself chuckling in the car as he drove back to the studio. He hadn’t had so much fun with a woman in a long time. He tended to keep things on a light note with the women he normally dated after the bad experience with the stalker had left him shaken.

Roxanne was full of surprises. She had more determination than dance talent, but he could work with that. He wouldn’t be able to turn her into a swan, but he could turn her into a competent dancer. Her personality would do the rest. He just had a feeling the audience was going to love her.

Once at the studio, he found himself walking into his brother’s office instead of heading farther down the hall to his own.

Daniel was hunched over his laptop, frowning. He looked up and his face transformed into a smile.

“What cha doin’, bro?” Nick said. He flopped into a chair.

Daniel grinned. “Greer wants to design a cake that looks like a parade float and actually moves.”

“If anyone can create that, she can. I have total confidence in her.” Greer Courtland was Daniel’s soon-to-be bride. She also designed parade floats for the Rose Parade. Daniel had been impressed by her talent and fallen in love with her while filming segments of the progress of his Rose Parade float. They were planning a January wedding because Greer wouldn’t be able to get away until after October.

“I just want to get married,” Daniel said. “I just want her to be mine forever, so everyone can see. All these details are making me crazy. I’ve spent years looking for her. I never have to date again. I have the woman of my dreams. I just want to get married.”

Nick held up his hands. “Whoa, there. What brought this on?”

Daniel scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m ready to get on with the next phase of my life.” Daniel wasn’t the most patient man in the world. He could fake patience well, but underneath he would seethe. “Okay. I got that off my chest and can get on with my day. But that needed to be said.”

“You need to tell Greer.”

“I’m good now. I am willing to have the wedding of her dreams because it’s more important to make her happy. Dad sat down and gave me the ‘now that you’re getting married’ speech. His talk boiled down to his ‘happy wife, happy life’ metaphor.”

“That must have been uncomfortable.”

“It was more uncomfortable than the sex talk.”

“Yeah, he just gave us a condom and hoped for the best.” Nick remembered the talk clearly. He and Daniel had been fifteen and they’d received only one warning from their mother. There would be no Torres baby-daddies, she’d told them. And like their other brothers, they listened.

“I want to grab Greer and head to Vegas like Mom and Dad did.”

“And disappoint Nina,” Nick said. Their sister was the planner in the family. With Greer and her sisters busy with the floats they was currently building, she’d asked Nina to help with the wedding plans.

Daniel rubbed her temple.

“Good luck, bro,” Nick said cheerfully. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He closed the door on Daniel’s groan and headed to his office.

* * *

The morning of the announcement, Roxanne was up and out the door by 4:00 a.m. racing for the studio to have her hair and makeup done before the big announcement on Daniel Torres’s show. She grabbed her laptop and the file of her current client so she could work during the lulls. She couldn’t afford to waste one minute.

The drive from Pacific Palisades to the studio went more smoothly than normal. No accidents jammed the freeway and traffic was unusually light. She walked into the studio still yawning, a huge cup of coffee in one hand. She never skipped her morning coffee.

After her hair and makeup were finished, she joined the other contestants on the set. Nick reached for her hand and pulled her out slightly ahead of the others.

“We’re live in five,” the director held up fingers. As each one went down, he silently mouthed the number.

“This is Daniel Torres. Welcome back to The Morning Show with Daniel Torres. This morning we have the announcement of the contestants for Celebrity Dance season two, starting May 22. I want to welcome everyone.”

Daniel stood in the center of the set. He backed away and the camera panned across Roxanne and Nick, down the row of people. She knew three of the contestants already, the rest she had never met. Nick chose a broad spectrum of people. A former astronaut, a football player, a Broadway star, the head of a Fortune 500 company, a politician, along with two actresses, herself and two men she’d never heard of. She tried to memorize the names, but everything happened so fast.

Daniel approached her. “Roxanne Deveraux,” he announced her name. “Partnering with Nicholas Torres. You have a strong lineup, Nick, for the coming season.”

Nick smiled. “I give a lot of thought to who I think will do well. I look for people who are entertaining, fun and enthusiastic.” He stepped to the side and held out a hand. “Like Roxanne here.” He twirled her around.

Roxanne tried to stay upright, but one ankle collapsed and she stumbled against Nick. Mortified at her clumsiness, she was amazed when Nick caught her and dipped her. She tried not to look surprised at how smoothly he’d turned her almost tumble into what looked like an orchestrated dance move. She had to admire his ability to think so quickly even as she couldn’t stop thinking she’d made a big mistake.

Stilettos just weren’t her thing. Plus the fact she felt like André the Giant next to petite Adela Gardiner who stood five foot three.