Page 22 of Along Came Amor
She had a secret. A good one.
And no one in her family ever had to know.
Chapter 5
After Ava left, Roman showered and dressed. While he waited for his driver, he sat by the pool while the water rippled gently in the warm breeze. He was tempted to pull out his phone and reading glasses to catch up on emails, but he wasn’t ready to jump back into hustle mode quite yet. Instead, he replayed the unexpected events of the evening.
With Ava, it was like time had stopped and he’d been able to take a break from his constant thoughts about work. Tonight, he hadn’t been Roman Vázquez the CEO, he’d just been... himself.
And it had beenfun. Every time he’d gotten her to clearly state what she wanted and then to let him give that to her, he felt a rush of satisfaction. Seeing her strip down, both literally and figuratively, from the buttoned-up middle-school teacher she’d been downstairs to the sweet, responsive siren writhing in his arms, had blown his mind.
Ava’s obvious reluctance to acceptanythinghad only made him want to give her even more. Especially since it seemed like the thing she wanted most was for someone to simplylisten.
After all the years he’d spent as a bartender, he was good at listening. Converting what people said into what they needed,and then figuring out how to meet that need, was why the Dulce Hotel chain was one of the fastest growing in the country and had won multiple hospitality awards.
It was why it was driving him crazy that his mother wouldn’t let him help her find a new apartment.
All in all, meeting Ava had been a fantastic diversion, one he wouldn’t mind revisiting.
But he didn’t have her number. Hell, he didn’t even know her full name. If they did meet again, it would be up to her.
A text buzzed, saying that his car had arrived. After one last look at the pool, he headed downstairs.
Back to the grind.
An hour and a half later Roman strolled out of the elevator directly into his apartment on Central Park West. On his way to his side of the apartment, he passed his seventeen-year-old sister, Mikayla Jenkins, at the kitchen counter with her laptop.
Despite having a custom-built workstation in her bedroom, Mikayla preferred to set up shop on any horizontal surface. When she was fourteen, Roman had once awakened to find her sitting cross-legged on his bed studying for a math quiz. After that, they’d had a conversation about respecting personal space, but he still found her doing homework all over the apartment.
He stopped across the counter from her and set down his bag. “What are you still doing up, Mickey?”
She rubbed her eyes behind her glasses—brown eyes, the same as his, the same as their mother’s. On Roman, those eyes looked weary whenever he stared at his reflection in the mirror, with more and more lines fanning out from the corners. But on Mikayla, those big brown eyes gave her the appearance of a fawn, all curiosity and innocence, especially with her slimbuild, light brown skin, and long curly ponytail. Or maybe it was just that when he looked at her, he still saw the baby she’d been, back when he’d made her a silent promise to do everything he could to make her life easier than his own had been.
“College essays,” she replied, and followed it up with an exaggerated groan.
“Where’s Mami?”
“Asleep.”
Roman came around to her side of the counter and kissed her on the cheek. And even though he had an early morning and should probably go to bed too, he slid onto the high chair next to her.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Not great.” She toyed with the spiral binding on her notebook. “Trying not to write about Dad.”
“Ah.” A pang went through Roman’s chest. Keith Jenkins, Mikayla’s father, had been a good stepfather and friend. Roman had been in college when Keith came into his life, and the older man had been supportive without trying to parent him. Roman had learned a lot about what it meant to be an adult from Keith.
After Keith passed away, Roman’s mother, Dulce, sold her row house in Queens. That had been five years ago, and Dulce and Mikayla had been living with Roman ever since.
It had been an adjustment, sure, but Roman wouldn’t have had it any other way. While he wasn’t able to spend as much time with them as he wanted, he liked knowing where they were, and that all their needs were being met.
Which was why his mother had knocked him for such a loop that very morning when she’d announced that once Mikayla went off to college, she would be moving out too.
Roman, a forty-year-old bachelor, would soon be an empty-nester.
The thought gave him a sick, panicky feeling in his gut. But that was almost a year away. Plenty of time to convince his mother that there was no need for her to leave, and to encourage Mikayla to apply to colleges in the tri-state area.
He gestured at her notebook. “What are the essay prompts?”
