Naked in LA (4 page)

“He died a couple of years back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It was sudden. He was playing golf with his buddies, next minute he has a heart attack. He’s at peace now, God rest his soul.”

“What about Señor Salvatore?”

“You didn’t hear? Fidel had him in prison almost six months, along with Santo Junior and some of those other guys. Can you believe it? He barely got out of Cuba with his life. That bearded fuck, he ruined our country. It was paradise, and look what he did. He’ll get his one day.”

“Still, you did okay. You got out at the right time.”

“My father was a very astute man.”

“So what do you do these days?”

“I work for my father-in-law.”

“And what does Señor Salvatore do these days?”

“He runs Miami.”

“He’s the mayor?”

“We dabble. Real estate, construction, that sort of thing.” He gave me a crooked smile. All Miami knew Bobbo Salvatore didn’t make his money in real estate. He controlled the
bolita
, the unofficial lottery, and he had illegal casinos all over the state. Papi told her he was trafficking narcotics as well.

“I still love you, baby,” Angel said.

“No you don’t. To do that you would have had to have loved me in the first place.”

He shook his head like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Sure I did. I never loved any woman in my life like I loved you.”

“Well, you’re married now. You got a nice life. So what’s the use?”

“Now don’t go talking like that. I can be good for you, baby, really good.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I can help you. You’ve had some bad luck, you and your old man. I can help you out.”

“Yeah?”

“You got big medical bills, right? How much you make working in that shitty diner?”

“With tips? A hundred grand a week.”

He didn’t smile at my little joke. He leaned in and took my hand. “I can make your life a whole lot easier.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I told you: I love you, baby. Look at me, I’m serious. I can get you a private room in the hospital, the best doctors, a decent funeral for him when the time comes. We go back a long way you and me. You shouldn’t ever forget that.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“I’m not giving you my money, I’m just helping you out because we’re friends. You hold on to your pride and who loses? Your father, that’s who loses. I’m offering to help him out, so why would you say no?”

I should have gotten up and walked out right then, but I didn’t. I knew what he wanted, that wasn’t hard to figure. I told myself,
“Girl, you walk out right now with your head high and you get to keep your self-respect.”

But then there was another part of me that said,
“Yes but what is self-respect anyway?”
Is it working ten hours a day in a diner serving coffee to guys with dandruff on their collars and three days stubble, who think leaving a nickel as a tip means they get to pinch your butt when you walk past?

Once, you slept with Angel for free. How hard would it be to do it again, if it means Papi gets some proper medical attention and some comfort for however many days he has left?

The thought of having money again made me ache in my bones with longing. I worked morning to night six days a week for a meagre few bucks that went nowhere. At one time, I had never thought about money; now the fear of not having enough for the rent made me want to retch with fear at the end of every week.

Here was a way out.

“You don’t know how much I missed you,” he whispered. “Things aren’t that good at home. It’s not really working out between me and Esme, just like you said it wouldn’t.”

“Why’s that, Angel?”

“You know why. You and me, we were meant for each other, you understood me. All she cares about now is the babies, playing cards with her friends, shopping at Burdine's. She’s not like you, no one was ever like you.”

“You could have had all of me once.”

“You don’t know how often I think about that, wonder if I made the right choice. But what could I have done? You know the position they put me in.”

I was glad I didn’t eat too much of the crab. Listening to all this, I don’t think I could have kept it down.

“I’m going to leave her.”

“You’re going to leave your wife?”

“Sure I am, I got to pick the right time is all, I got kids now, you know. I got responsibilities. But you know, I need a real woman in my life again.”

I felt like I had a bone caught in my throat. I thought about the latest hospital bills sitting on the table at home, and I heard myself say: “Yeah, Angel, I guess you do.”

He glanced at the check, took out a handful of notes from his wallet and tossed them on the table. There was a two hundred dollar tip. As the maitre d’ came over he pushed the money towards him. “Here,” he said, “go buy yourself a hotel.”

He grinned at me, and I knew the show was all for my benefit. “Let me show you how Miami looks from the sky,” he said.

Chapter 6 

His gorilla drove straight to the Fontainebleau on Miami Beach. He didn’t ask me, he didn’t tell the guy where to go, it was all taken for granted. We walked straight across the lobby to the elevators. “Presidential suite,” he said to the bellboy. I might be a whore, but apparently I wasn’t a cheap whore.

We stepped out into a hallway with two massive mahogany doors. He unlocked them with his own personal key. He stood back and I walked in.

I felt as if I was going to fall. Miami was spread out in front of me, twenty-something floors down, looking like a beautiful ocean city and not the grimy and desperate place, smelling of stale coffee and hamburger grease I sometimes glimpsed through the windows of the diner.

There were strawberries in a crystal bowl and champagne in a gold-sealed ice bucket. There was antique furniture, three televisions and two telephones.

I wanted to look at the view but as soon as Angel had kicked the door closed, he pushed me against the wall and started ripping off my clothes. It was Angel as I had always remembered him, another state of emergency, fuck her quick before someone comes. You can take the boy out of Havana, but you can’t take Havana out of the boy.

I heard the shower running in the bathroom. I think that was what woke me. My clothes were scattered about the floor, the Cardin dress and the corner store underwear. I threw off the sheet and padded across the thick carpet to the window. I found a towel, drew back the curtains, and went out onto the balcony.

The black and white tiles burned my feet and I retreated again. I left the window open, there was a humid breeze whipping the flags along the pier of the yacht marina. I closed my eyes and breathed in the strong, salty taint of the sea. I had forgotten what it was like to open the curtains to a view. All I ever saw from the patio of our little flat were two ragged palm trees and the concrete rim of the Orange Bowl stadium.

Far below there were gardens with neat gravel walks weaving between the beds of croton shrubs and bougainvillea. Gardeners were busy raking the paths. I heard the hiss of the sprinklers on the lawns, spray drifting with the late afternoon breeze.

The Cabana Club was directly below us, I could make out red and white striped shade umbrellas and the brilliant blue oblong of the swimming pool, fringed with steamer chairs. White-jacketed waiters shuttled to and fro with cold drinks. The sea glittered, tranquil in the bright sun. This should have been my life, if we had gotten out of Cuba in time. I was the one who had talked Papi out of it.

I went back to the bed and flopped down. It was the size of our living room, and the sheets were Egyptian cotton. I was ashamed for enjoying it so much. I didn’t need to hear Angel’s lies about his wife, or how he loved me, just one sea-facing hotel room and already I didn’t want to leave.

I turned on my side, supporting my head with my hand, and watched him get out of the shower. He was smooth, except for the triangle of black curls at his groin. Perhaps he shaved his chest--I wouldn’t have been surprised. He dried his hair and stood in front of the mirror combing it.

He spends as long there as I do, I thought.

Wasn’t this how it had all started, in a room overlooking a beach? I was barely eighteen years old then and I was head over heels in love with him. It all seemed such a long time ago, but it was barely four years. In that time we had lost everything: our villa, our night club, our money, and I had almost lost Papi as well.

Meanwhile Angel had passed from a boy to a young man who rode in the back of limousines and snapped his fingers at waiters.

I thought about Papi. He would be dozing in front of a quiz show right now. What would he say if he knew I was here? He would die of shame. But he doesn’t have a say in these things any more, I reminded myself, if I’m going to look after him, then he has to let me take care of the details.

Angel turned around and caught me staring at him. He grinned. He was never a modest guy, and so he leaned on the doorjamb so I could have a better view. “That was amazing,” he said.

I gave him a tight smile.

“I have to be getting back, I have some business this afternoon. I’ll drop you home.”

I was now surplus to requirements. I slid past him into the bathroom. He stood watching me, waiting for me to drop the towel, so I shoved him out and locked the door. It always seemed to me that sharing a bathroom with someone was more personal than sleeping with them, and I had always promised myself that one day I would shower with the man I loved. It was just a game I played in my head. I still had something to offer someone that no one else had ever had.

As we went down in the elevator he kept his eyes on the ceiling. He didn’t want to look into my eyes, not this close anyway. The bellboy, in his plum and gold uniform, kept his back to us. I guess it was the presence of the third party that made me do it. I thought it would be fun to embarrass him. “How old are your kids?”

“I have twins. They’re two years old. And then there’s Junior.”

“How old’s Junior?”