AVAILABLE FILE FORMATS: HTML for the standard computer, PDF for Adobe Reader, MS Reader for the PC and Pocket PC, Mobipocket for Palm Pilot

Chapter One

In all her thirty years, Carolina Perales had never known her mother to do anything dishonest, and much less unlawful. "You want me to help Aroldo smuggle his son in from Cuba?" she asked. "Mami, that's illegal."

Lucia rose to her full four-foot five inch frame and tilted her chin upwards, in defiance of her daughter's accusation. She was well past middle age but still carried an innocent, child-like demeanor. She waved a perfectly manicured hand, dismissing Carolina's remark. "No, mi hija," she replied. "All you have to do is drive him back from Miami with you when you return from vacation. Someone else is doing the other part."

"Mami, that makes me a conspirator. I can't do this. It's illegal. I could go to jail."

Lucia raised her pencil-thin eyebrows.

"Yes. Jail."

"Don't be naïve," her mother said. "It's not like they're smuggling drugs."

"No, this is about smuggling people. Is that any better?"

Lucia took her daughter's hand and caressed it. "Hija...Aroldo is paying a lot of money to have his son brought here. Like a ticket, comprendes? So you are doing nothing wrong. Aroldo made all the arrangements. And when his son arrives in Miami and is processed through immigration, he will be here as legal as the president of the United States himself. They will release him and your part is to drive him back here to Connecticut to reunite with his father."

She made it sound so simple. So innocent. Maybe her mother was right, she mused. Maybe she was just making too much of this. Come to think of it, it would really be a very heroic thing. No need to be prudish. Besides, this was about helping dear, old Aroldo, a long-time friend of the family. "Are you sure about this, Mami?"

Lucia gave her a stern look. "I'm your mother. Would I ask you to do something that is morally wrong?"

Despite her previous reservations, Carolina felt a glimmer of relief. If her mother thought it was okay, then it should be. "Of course not. It's just that at first it sounded so...strange, kind of under-handed."

Carolina rose from her mother's antique couch and swung her brown leather handbag over her shoulder. Heather and Tommy would be home soon from day camp. One of the parents would be dropping them off, a convenient arrangement she'd made where they alternated picking up the kids. Carolina ruffled her fingers through her cropped blond hair, making a mental note to set up an appointment for a trim.

"Those jeans are too big on you," her mother pointed out. "You don't look feminine. Honestly, Caro, you need to change the way you dress. You'll never find a man that way."

"Mami, they're comfortable. And second, why would I ever want a man in my life again?" She kissed her mother on the cheek and whispered goodbye, thankful her mother had long since stopped complaining about her footwear, too. Sneakers were just part of her daily attire, especially since she was on her feet most of the day at the bakery.

"In Cuba young women always wore makeup," her mother complained. "And heels, too, and they dressed nice at all times."

Carolina ignored her and headed for the door. She stopped just before walking out. "So there is nothing else I need to know, right? All I do is bring Aroldo's son back from Miami. You haven't arranged our marriage or anything like that, right Mami?"

"Of course not," her mother said, in a not too convincing tone.

"Right, Mami?"

"No."

"So there will be no surprises. Everything is set? I just pick him up and bring him home?"

"That's right, hija," her mother replied. "You don't even have to pick him up until after he has been processed and completes all the paperwork. He'll be legal."

Carolina rubbed her hands together. "Okay, okay, I can do this. Tell Aroldo I'm leaving for Miami in two days."

"Okay, mi amor. I told him you would stop by his house soon. He gave me all the information you need, but he wants to see you before you leave."

Carolina yelled down the corridor leading to the study, where her eighty-year-old, partially deaf father whittled away the hours on the computer with Chess Master. "Hasta luego, Papi."

A grunt of a response indicated he was deep into his game and didn't want to be bothered.

Carolina stepped into the mildly cool August breeze. Already she could feel the gentle stirring of fall in the air, her favorite season. Ever since arriving from Cuba as a little girl, she'd grown up in New England and there wasn't a single season which escaped her keen sense for the nuance of change in between. She rolled up the sleeves of her yellow cotton blouse and put on her sunglasses. Sliding into the soft leather seat of her champagne-colored Saturn, she let out a heavy sigh when she remembered the difficult part of her day wasn't over yet. She still hadn't hired additional help at the bakery, which meant she'd have to bring Heather and Tommy with her until Sophie came in to cover the next shift. These were the times she wished she had a man in her life, but it was a thought quickly discarded. Anything was better than being married to a compulsive gambler whose philosophy on life was that people who didn't take risks didn't know how to live. "You gotta live on the edge," he'd say. But not her. No way. She liked to play it safe. No risks, nothing less than the sure thing all the way. She could deal with the stress of two rambunctious children. But not with an immature thirty-year-old bent on testing fate every hour of the day. Her Catholic upbringing had kept her from turning her life around, and it had taken her years to succumb to the idea of divorce. And once she got her freedom back, she knew she would never want to relinquish her single-parent status.

But every now and then she needed to escape from everything that chewed away at her time and her energy. Trying to be the perfect mother, the perfect daughter and the perfect entrepreneur eventually reached its limits. And every year about this time, her thoughts gravitated towards visions of beach and sand and tall, thin palm trees. It was time to head to Miami.

* * *

Aroldo had aged remarkably since the last time Carolina had seen him two years before. His thick black hair had grayed at the sides, the lines on his face had deepened, and he appeared smaller and thinner in his wheelchair than the last time she had seen him. But he greeted her with the same exuberant, welcoming smile that reminded her instantly of her playful childhood days in his backyard with his own children.

Carolina kissed him on the cheek. "How do you feel, Aroldo?"

"Better than ever!" he exclaimed. "In less than two weeks my son will be here, thanks to you, Carolina."

Carolina glanced at her mother who was standing beside her. Lucia gave her that I'm-proud-you're-my-daughter look and said, "My beautiful Carolina always had a good heart. I told you she would be happy to do this."

"That is true," replied Aroldo. "Who knows, maybe she and my son will-"

"Ha! Forget it," Lucia cut in. "My daughter wants to remain solterona for the rest of her life."

Aroldo shook his head in disagreement. "She is much too pretty for that. But I know you are busy, so let me get through this quickly. Your mother says you are leaving tomorrow for Miami."

Carolina shifted her feet nervously. "Yes, that's right. So, where do I pick up your son?"

Aroldo handed her a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it and gave her explicit instructions. "When Jorge arrives by boat, he will be taken by the border patrol to the Krome Processing Service Center. He will be there for a few days while immigration processes him. Then they will turn him over to an organization called Religious Services of Dade County. Their job is to find refugees a job and a place to live. But my son already has a home, and I found a job for him." He paused and took Carolina's hand in his. "All you have to do is pick him up at that address and bring him home to me." He held her hand tightly. "I have been waiting all my life for this moment," he said.

"That's it? That's all I have to do?" It seemed so easy that she felt guilty over her initial qualm over the whole matter.

Aroldo nodded. "That is all, niña. The boat will be leaving for Cuba in less than a week. And a week after that you should be able to pick him up."

Lucia smiled and gave Aroldo an affectionate pat on the back. "You will have your son here in no time," she promised.

"Oh, and one more thing," Aroldo said, as Carolina turned to leave. He reached for a small, thick envelope resting on his walnut coffee table. He placed it in Carolina's hand and closed her fingers around it. "Don't forget the money," he said. "And there is a photo there of Jorge. It is over fifteen years old, but it will help."

"I won't be needing money," she said. "I have enough to cover our expenses."

Aroldo glanced at her mother, then back at her. "I guess I forgot to mention one final thing."

Carolina threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, you two. What else is there?"

"Oh, nothing, querida," Aroldo said. "The money is so you can pay the nice gentleman who arranged everything."

"You mean the smuggler?"

"Well, he's really a boat captain," Aroldo said. "We have to pay for his services."

Carolina shot a quizzical look at her mother, but Lucia only responded with the same equally confused look.

"You need to pay Carlos Martinez. He's the one picking up my son. I already spoke with him and he is expecting you. Make sure you give him the money before he leaves. The address is in the envelope. Seven-thousand is for him, and the other thousand is for you, for your travel expenses."

Carolina nodded in silent resignation. She couldn't back out now, not with Aroldo so excited about seeing his son again. Flashes of the whole operation going wrong pulsed through her mind. She envisioned herself walking through a dark alley, handing over the envelope to a stranger with eyes hidden behind a wide brim panama hat. Someone could follow her.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Aroldo asked.

"No. Of course not," she said, forcing a smile.

They bid their goodbyes. Aroldo thanked them profusely, made the sign of the cross and blessed them, then escorted them to the door.

Once inside the car with the door closed and completely out of earshot, Carolina turned to her mother. "I'm not too happy with the money part of this deal," she said. "That implicates me, you know."

"I didn't know about the money," Lucia replied, her tone laced with concern. "But I'm sure Aroldo would never put you in danger. And I hear this is done in Miami all the time." Then she lowered her voice. "Caro, if you have your doubts, then tell Aroldo you cannot do this. But you must decide now."

"Why doesn't Aroldo just go through the normal legal channels of bringing his son here?"

"Because it takes too long that way, Caro. And he is afraid his son will end up getting married and staying. Let's help Aroldo, si? He's a man with a good heart and deserves our help."

Carolina couldn't help feeling sorry for Aroldo, who was pushing ninety years now. He had done so much for her own family when they'd first arrived from Cuba. He had given them shelter and money and had found jobs for her parents. She owed him. Her family owed him.

"I'm not going to back out now," Carolina affirmed. "I went this far and I gave Aroldo my word. I just want you to know I'm only doing this because it's for Aroldo. If it were anyone else, I would never get involved."

Lucia smiled, her eyes glazed over with tears. "I know, hija. You always had a good heart. In time, God will repay you."

"Well if that's the case," Carolina replied, "all I ask for is a peaceful life with my children. No complications. I'll get this whole thing over with quickly so I can return to my simple, quiet life. Men have such a way of complicating things."

* * *

Carolina brought her car to a stop at the opulent entrance of the Hilton Hotel in Miami Beach. Across the street, dozens of yachts bobbed gently in the bay waters. Behind the hotel, across a long stretch of sand, the sun was a bright red ball rising over the horizon, underneath a sky blanketed in tones of red, orange and purple. Carolina stopped for a moment to take in the beauty. The early morning stillness was deathly quiet, punctuated only by the distant sounds of birds and seagulls and an occasional passing car. She couldn't remember a more beautiful morning, and hoped the serenity was a sign of how smoothly everything would go throughout her stay in Miami. Tommy and Heather were fast asleep in the back. Tommy's faint snore made her wish she didn't have to awaken them yet. She missed the sounds of their voices, although she was also thankful that for the last two hundred miles she hadn't listened to another fifty bottles of beer on the wall, or, "Are we there yet?"

After nudging both kids into wakefulness, she handed her keys to the valet attendant and led both sleepy-eyed children into the plush lobby. She checked in and went straight to their room where she put them to bed, clothes and all. Exhausted from the twenty-four hour drive, she plummeted onto the soft flowery bedspread, finding the coldest spot where the air-conditioning hit the strongest. She hoped to get a few more hours of sleep.

But peace and quiet was short-lived. She woke up to find a high-strung eight-year-old Heather and rambunctious seven-year old Tommy jumping on their bed in leaps of joy and eager determination to start the new day.

"Rest, I need rest," Carolina groaned, "why can't I ever get enough rest?"

"Mommy, get up!" Tommy yelled. "It's morning! Look!" He pointed to the blinding rays of sunshine pouring through the window, behind which was a splendid view of the turquoise waters of the Atlantic Ocean, stretching out for miles like a huge blanket.

"Leave her alone, she wants to sleep," Heather admonished him, always the little mother.

"Okay, okay, I'm up." Carolina resigned herself to the fact there would be, in fact, no more rest today. She grabbed both her children and tickled them until they screeched with delight and begged her to stop. Then she remembered she had a dirty deed to do and a small groan escaped her throat.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Heather asked.

"Let's have a yummy breakfast," she said, "then Mommy has to go somewhere really fast, and then we'll spend the day at the beach. How's that?"

Tommy and Heather scoured through the suit case in search of something different to wear. Carolina took a quick shower and donned a pair of loose-fitting denim shorts and a white cotton v-neck shirt. She slipped her feet into a pair of soft brown leather sandals. Tommy and Heather simultaneously rummaged through the suit case for their Pokeman tee shirts.

After breakfasting on pineapples and mangoes, fruit loops, bagels, and three cups of coffee for Carolina, they skirted out the door of the hotel. The concrete sidewalk gleamed from the reflection of the overhead noonday sun. No doubt it would be one of those scorching Miami summer days, she thought. Carolina squinted and drew her shades over her eyes immediately. When the valet attendant arrived with her car, she guided the children into the back seat, strapped them in, then asked the attendant for directions to Flagler Street.

Easy enough, Flagler was the main street which divided the north section of Miami from the south. Carolina was anxious to deliver the money and get on with the rest of her vacation. Small price, she reminded herself, for all the fun she'd have later today with her children.

Thirty minutes later, she arrived at the address Aroldo had given her. It was a supermarket with outdoor picnic tables where adults sat eating off of Styrofoam plates and children ran about making their usual noise. There were no strange characters lurking about, or dark, hidden alleyways. The building was quite innocuous looking and painted in yellow and green. She parked in the back of the store where an empty lot served as a make-shift parking area.

Carolina walked in with Heather and Tommy on either side of her. Inside, the place resembled a third world market area, with wall-to-wall customers conversing in rapid Spanish and ordering Cuban midnight sandwiches and sugar cane juice. It was a combination of grocery store, fruit stand, and cafeteria, hardly the place one might expect intricate smuggling activities to be clandestinely planned and coordinated.

A woman behind the counter tended to a line of waiting customers ordering fresh, full-course meals to go. Other customers inspected the farm fresh display of pineapples, papayas and coconuts. For one dollar, a man would puncture a hole in a coconut and stick a straw through it. That drew Tommy's attention immediately.

"Mommy, I want one of those," he said, pointing a crooked finger at the man beside a cart full of coconuts.

"What is that?" Heather asked, her eyes scrutinizing the woman who had just purchased a coconut and obviously savoring what she was sucking through the straw.

Carolina purchased one for each, then asked the vendor where she could find Carlos Martinez. He smiled and pointed in the direction of the fish stand.

A lump formed in Carolina's throat. It's for Aroldo, she reminded herself. She wasn't doing anything wrong, just delivering a life-long dream for a dear old friend. Yeah, and this was probably the closest she'd ever come to doing something illegal. What if she ended up in jail? Well, it wasn't really illegal, she argued with herself. In no time at all Aroldo's son would be a bonafide resident of the United States and nothing else would matter.

Carolina found an empty picnic table outside under a banyan tree. She sat Tommy and Heather at the table. "Don't move from there. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Tommy asked.

"Stay put. I'm just going to ask someone something."

She walked the few yards to the fish stand where a man of medium build with a pock-marked face was wrapping fresh grouper for a customer. As soon as the customer walked away, Carolina glanced at the picnic table. Heather and Tommy were drinking their coconut milk, with their eyes glued to her.

"Are you Carlos Martinez?" she said in a whisper. God, I hope I don't have to recount the whole story of why I'm here...

Carlos lifted his gaze to her and smiled. "You must be Carolina Perales," he said with a heavy accent. He seemed friendly, too friendly. Surely this was the wrong Carlos Martinez.

Carolina sighed. "Yes, oh yes, so you know what I'm here for?"

"Of course." Without looking away from her, he called over his shoulder, "Pepe, watch the stand for me. Regreso enseguida."

He led her to a nearby table, one from which Carolina was still able to keep an eye on Tommy and Heather. Carlos wasted no time.

"Aroldo call me yesterday and say you be here any day. You look like he say. I saw you come here. Nice car." His eyes drifted in the direction of her Saturn.

Awkwardly, Carolina reached into her purse, relieved she had no explaining to do. At least the difficult end of the deal was almost over. She pulled out the envelope containing seven-thousand dollars in cash and handed it to Carlos. "It's seven-thousand, right?"

Carlos nodded as he took the money, his face void of any expression as he lowered his hands underneath the weather-beaten picnic table to discreetly count the money. Then he grunted and nodded. "Muy bien. Siete mil. Tell Aroldo I leave tomorrow for Cuba. I be back next day weeth hees son."

"That's it? It's that simple?"

"Oh, yes. Thees time I breeng back twelve people."

Carolina made a mental note of when to go to Religious Services of Dade County to pick up Aroldo's son. She rose from the table and said, "Thank you, Carlos. Good luck."

Carlos grinned. "No, thank you, señora."

* * *

Sagua La Chica, Cuba:

Gonzalo Sevilla sipped his café con leche at a small cafeteria in Sagua La Chica. Chairs were scarce, but there were plenty of bodies moving about engaging in boisterous conversation on women, world politics, and the latest fashion trends in the United States.

Sagua La Chica, a small village in the northern province of Villa Clara, wasn't a place which Gonzalo frequented often. Once or twice a year he'd stop by for a few days to visit his cousins. But this time things were different. A relationship gone sour had brought him here, where he wanted nothing else but to rethink the course of his life, which right now was just one big question mark. A cheating fiancée, especially when infidelity had become a recurring habit with her, had prompted his sudden trip to the simple cottage-lined village near the river where he hoped to concoct a new course, a new direction for his life. He would not return to Havana, that was certain. Wedding or no wedding. Too many memories there of Candita dancing at the Tropicana, flirting with tourists and enjoying every minute of it. Even his job as a professor of literature at the University of Havana wasn't enough to make him want to return. He'd had enough of his old life and was ready for big changes. Drastic changes. The kind that would erase Candita from his mind forever. Cuba wasn't big enough. He had family and friends in every province, all constant reminders of Candita. There was just nowhere to go and start a new life.

As Gonzalo sipped on his coffee, he couldn't help listening to an interesting conversation that had developed at a nearby table. A young couple sat facing each other, engrossed in a topic which was far from the usual palaver he was accustomed to hearing in most cafés. The woman pleaded with the man not to leave Cuba, and the man, obviously weakening to the pressure of her female tactics, tried to withstand, although failing miserably.

"Jorge, por favor, don't leave me here alone."

"But querida, my father already paid someone from Miami a lot of money. The boat arrives tonight and if I'm not on the boat, I'll never see my father."

The woman reached a hand across the small table, her large bosom grazing the faded tabletop. She leaned over and exposed more of her cleavage. She pouted her full lips and gave her partner the sorriest look that Gonzalo had ever seen. He laughed to himself. He'll break down on this one. Be strong, hombre, he thought to himself. Don't fall for that. But he was no one to give advice, for he, too, had fallen for the charms of a woman.

The man looked away and averted her pleading eyes. "Carino, what would I tell my father? He hasn't seen me since I was a boy. And he is expecting me."

The woman leaned back in her chair and folded her arms defiantly across her chest. "You don't love me."

"Yes, I do. And one day I will come back for you."

"No you won't. You don't love me."

"I do."

"Then prove it to me, Jorge Rodriguez. Prove to me how much you love me. Stay in Cuba with me."

The man slumped in his chair, a pitiful look of resignation etched on his face. "I came this far, mi amor. Please understand. I traveled so far to get here. Now I'm only minutes away from the beach. The boat is to arrive tonight. But you are making it hard for me to go."

The woman's lips curved into a victorious smile. "If you love me, you will stay here with me. Don't leave, Jorge, por favor, papito."

Silence ensued. Gonzalo Sevilla finished the last of his coffee and placed the ceramic cup on the weathered counter. An interesting thought suddenly formed in his mind and he caught himself smiling for the first time in weeks. This was a sign. He was getting his wish. Maybe.

If Jorge Rodriguez was not at that beach tonight to embark on his journey to Miami, then he would be there in his place.

* * *

Carolina knew that by now Jorge Rodriguez should have gone through the rigorous immigration process. No doubt he was anxiously waiting to be picked up and taken to his father. She promised the kids they'd go for a boat ride at Bayside, but first they had an important stop to make, she explained to them. "We're picking up Aroldo's son," she said, skimming over the details and letting them know they would all be driving back to Connecticut together. The worst was over. Now came the easy part.

Carolina arrived in Little Havana, which she recognized immediately from her vacation trips there as a child. There were outdoor cafes where elderly men in guayabera shirts gathered to discuss business and politics. Coconut treats were sold from carts, and salsa music blasted from someone's radio. She parked her car in front of a meter just outside the building that housed the religious organization that sponsored refugees. Unable to find the right combination of coins in her purse, she quickly ran inside one of the many business establishments which lined the entire street. But the woman behind the register only smirked and said she couldn't spare any change because she was tired of everyone coming in the store for the same thing and leaving her without change. Carolina tried the other stores, but met with the same response.

A quick survey of the area indicated there were no meter maids about. Shoppers strolled by display windows. It was a calm, non-eventful morning and it couldn't possibly take her more than five minutes to find Jorge Rodriguez.

She left the empty meter and entered the building, with Heather and Tommy trotting behind her down a long corridor. Hopefully no questions would be asked. She would sign whatever paper was necessary and leave with Aroldo's son.

She approached an old wooden desk where a petite woman with wire rimmed glasses tended the phones and sorted out paperwork. The sounds of muffled voices echoed within the building.

"Hola," Carolina greeted the woman.

The woman looked up and smiled. "Who are you here for?" she asked.

"I'm--I'm--here to pick up Jorge Rodriguez," Carolina stammered. "Can you direct me to the appropriate department?"

The woman frowned. "Como?"

Carolina tried again, this time in Spanish. "Vine a recoger a Jorge Rodriguez. A quien tengo que ver?"

The woman read through a hand-written listing of names, then shook her head. "No tenemos un Jorge Rodriguez," she said. She looked up at Carolina. "No Jorge Rodriguez."

Oh, God, now I'll be bombarded with questions. "It's a common name," Carolina suggested. "Please try the list one more time."

Again the woman searched her list, this time pointing a long red fingernail to each name on the list. She stopped mid-way down the page. "We have a Carlos Rodriguez, a Pedro Rodriguez...oh, we have a Georgina Rodriguez." She looked up hopefully at Carolina.

"No. It's Jorge Rodriguez."

"When did he arrive in Miami?" the woman continued, trying to be helpful.

Heather and Tommy were arguing over whose turn it would be to take a bath first. Carolina gave them the deepest scowl she could muster.

The woman pulled out two lollipops from her desk drawer and gave one each to Heather and Tommy. "Let me see what I can do," she said. She pointed to a string of metal chairs by the wall. "Sientese. Ya vengo."

As the woman disappeared down another wing of the building, Carolina wracked her brain for answers. Her first impulse was to leave. Go and see Carlos Martinez to find out if Jorge had in fact been on that boat. Or what if the boat had been captured at sea and all the refugees were returned to Cuba? What if she were implicated in the smuggling operation? Something had gone wrong, she just knew it.

"C'mon, kids, let's go."

"Ask the lady for more candy," Heather whined. "I want a red one like Tommy's."

"I'll get you a whole bag at the store," Carolina hissed. "C'mon, time to go."

No sooner then she began her retreat did she felt a tap on her shoulder that sent a toe-curling chill up her spine. She turned slowly and lifted her gaze, half expecting someone in uniform to stare her down with a barrage of questions.

Instead, her eyes met with the largest, most sensuous set of blue-gray eyes she'd ever seen. The man towered over her five-foot-four inch frame. He smiled and speaking in rather good English, but with a heavy Spanish accent, he said, "Hello, I'm Jorge Rodriguez." He reached out a hand to her.

It took a few seconds for his words to register. Slowly, Carolina shook his hand and said. "I'm Carolina Perales. But the woman said--"

"Clerical mistake," he said quickly. "Too many Rodriguezes here. Ready to go?"

"Uh...well, yes, but, don't we have to fill out paperwork?"

"I took care of that. I knew someone would be coming for me."

"So you spoke to your father already?"

"Yes. Can we leave? I have seen enough of this place."

Carolina couldn't help being momentarily captivated by his smile. "Sure. I guess I don't blame you." She looked for a resemblance to Aroldo but found none.

Carolina turned and took Tommy and Heather by the hand. They were gawking at Jorge. "He's not gonna be our new dad, is he?" Tommy said.

"This is Aroldo's son," Carolina said, giving Tommy the evil eye. "Jorge, these are my children, Tommy and Heather."

Stepping out into the noonday sun was like pouring light into a cave. The brightness was blinding and Carolina had to squint to look up at Jorge Rodriguez. He didn't look like the man in the photo that Aroldo had given her. Nothing about him bore any resemblance to his father. Aroldo was five feet tall, had large, protruding eyes and a round belly. Tommy often called him Mr. Toad. His son must have inherited one of their ancestors' traits. Not only was Jorge exceptionally tall, but he was physically fit with well formed biceps and firm, broad shoulders. His jet-black hair was cut above the ears, and his goatee along with his blue-gray eyes complemented everything else about him. When he smiled, his slightly uneven teeth only graced his tanned face. He ruffled Tommy's and Heather's hair in a candid manner that elicited instant smiles from the two, although Heather quickly took back her smile. She didn't warm up too easily to anyone.

It would be awkward driving all the way back to Connecticut with this gorgeous man sitting beside her. Well, he's sort of in the family, she mused. Besides, she was done with men. Even charmers like this one.

* * *

Gonzalo Sevilla followed Carolina's children to the car, sneaking a quick peek at Carolina's backside. What a beauty, he thought to himself. She resembled a porcelain doll with her short blond hair and tiny nose. And that walk. He caught himself watching the sway of her hips in cadence with her footsteps. Her loose-fitting shorts did nothing to conceal her soft curves. And her tanned legs were shapely and shaved smooth as silk.

Then he was jolted back to his senses. This Carolina, with her two children, seemed like nice people. He'd lied to her, something he wasn't proud of. But right now he had no choice, he couldn't risk having her report him to the authorities. He just needed to buy some time. Find work. Then repay her and her friend for the money they'd paid to have Jorge Rodriguez brought from Cuba. If he said anything now, she would never believe that he was a good person and had no intention of taking advantage of her or anyone else. He would wait for the right moment, then profess the truth of who he was. He didn't know this woman and there was no telling how she would react. Soon, though. Very soon he'd explain everything to her. Maybe tomorrow. If he could first get her to trust him, he could then explain everything...that things just happened...there was an opportunity and he went for it. No one was hurt in the process. Jorge Rodriguez himself had decided to stay in Cuba with his girlfriend. He only borrowed his spot on the boat.

Gonzalo's plan was simple. He would befriend Carolina, and once she saw what kind of man he was, he would tell her the truth. He just needed her for now, to show him a few things about how things were done in this country. He didn't even know where to find a bus station, or how to look for work. He also needed to know how far Connecticut was from New Jersey, where his cousin lived. Hopefully, Carolina was a sweet-natured, understanding woman who would sympathize with his situation and assist him in getting to New Jersey. Right now he was so clueless about everything that he felt like an infant trying to fend for itself in a jungle. Unlike in Cuba, there were so many cars here, so many stores and people.

"Coño!" Carolina snatched a white paper stuck under her windshield wiper.

"Mommy, you said the C word," said Tommy.

Gonzalo had no idea why her face suddenly flushed with anger. But one thing was obvious: the girl had a temper.

"Que pasa?" he asked, bewildered.

She waved a rectangular-shaped paper in mid-air as her eyes shot fire.

"This is what's wrong. I got a damn parking ticket. Those vultures. They probably watched me go in."

"Why can't you park here?"

Carolina's face softened, and her feminine appeal surfaced once again. In a more subdued manner she explained, "I can park here, but I didn't put money in the meter."

"What meter?"

"In that thing over there." She pointed to the metal gray gadget protruding out of the pavement. "Now I have to pay a hundred times what it would have cost me to park here."

Even angry, she was beautiful, Gonzalo thought to himself. He tried to hide the smile threatening to surface on his lips, and attempted a serious response. "Oh, ya veo." He took out a small bundle of bills from his back pocket. "I will pay for that," he said. "Where do we go to pay?"

Carolina chuckled, then gripped her stomach and laughed uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was cute. Really cute."

Gonzalo smiled at Tommy and Heather. "Maybe you two can explain the joke to me, eh?"

Carolina wiped a tear from her eye. "You're just a refreshing change, that's all. You're like a child....but in a good way. You see, you don't just go somewhere to pay the ticket. You mail it in. I do have to admit this was my fault."

Tommy and Heather giggled. "Are you Mommy's new boyfriend?" Tommy asked in his innocent child-like tone. Heather gave him a scornful look and said, "No, stupid, he's Aroldo's son. Daddy is Mommy's boyfriend."

"Heather, we don't use the word stupid," Carolina reprimanded her.

"Look, it's going to be a long drive back with those two," Carolina said. "Your father gave me plenty of money for expenses, so if you prefer to fly back instead--"

"No. Absolutely not. But please, take this money to pay for your parking mistake."

Carolina pushed his hand away. She was standing so closely that he detected the subtle aroma of mint on her breath. A faint scent of perfume emanated from her smooth, silky skin and sent his senses reeling. After what he'd gone through with his ex-fiancée, he thought he'd been cured for a long time of any interest in the opposite sex. It surprised him he was having these lustful thoughts over Carolina, so soon, when his wounds were still open.

"Your father has taken care of everything," Carolina said.

A pang of guilt assaulted Gonzalo's conscience. He'd never lied to anyone. And certainly not in this manner, so blatantly. His only consolation was that he'd come clean soon. He'd already gotten a glimpse of her temper, so before he revealed his true identity, he needed to be sure she wouldn't denounce him to anyone or make trouble for him.

"How are we getting to Connecticut?" he asked.

Carolina smiled. "Your father didn't tell you? We're driving back. It's about a twenty-four hour drive."

"That far? Is that close to New Jersey?"

"Actually, we'll drive through New Jersey. Why, do you know someone there?"

"Yes. A cousin. Do you think--"

"Absolutely," Carolina interjected. "We can stop and visit your cousin. Besides, it'll give us a break from all the driving. Do you drive?"

"Yes," he lied.

"Wonderful," she sighed. "The trip back will be so much easier." She paused and wrinkled her nose. "Except...you don't have a license, do you?"

He shook his head no.

Carolina shrugged her shoulders. "Is everyone up for a fun time at Bayside?"

Tommy and Heather made their usual noise to show their agreement.

Gonzalo couldn't help feeling excited about going somewhere, anywhere, with the three of them. At least for today he would enjoy being part of a family, even if it wasn't his own.

This one has a good heart, Gonzalo thought to himself. He had to tell her the truth soon that he wasn't Jorge Rodriguez. Hopefully she would understand and forgive him. And maybe...they could start all over again. This time as Gonzalo Sevilla.

Chapter Two

This vacation was turning out unlike others in the past, where she'd had to deal with the children on her own, wearing herself out to exhaustion by nine o'clock at night. She remembered that last year she had cut the vacation short because she couldn't keep up with their energy. Two days before they were supposed to head back to Connecticut, she had found herself yearning for the established routine of home life, the regular sleeping schedules, the home-cooked meals, reading by the fireplace after Tommy and Heather were in bed for the night. She'd even missed the hectic pace at the bakery with all its demands.

But things were different with Jorge around. Not only did he ease the burden of her being a single parent, but Tommy adored him. He challenged Jorge to hand duals and jumped on his back for piggy-back rides. Heather seemed to like him, too, she had even caught her smiling a few times. But unlike Tommy, she was shy and normally reserved about her feelings, especially with someone she considered might be a rival to her father.

Carolina also found herself comfortable with his presence. But this was definitely not good. It was dangerous, could even lead to other things. She reminded herself that she was not looking for a replacement father for her children.

This was the last day of their vacation in Florida and despite the fact that she'd enjoyed their little fantasy ride as a happy family of four, it was time to plant her feet back on firm and solid ground. The vacation was over. She needed to get back to her life and Jorge to his. "Are you and Jorge gonna get married, Mommy?" Heather asked as she lifted her head off her Barbie beach towel. She'd been napping for the past hour beneath the umbrella while Carolina caught up on her reading. She was finishing up Living Single and Loving It. Jorge and Tommy were playing in the turquoise waters of Miami Beach. Jorge planted Tommy on his shoulders, shot him up in the air and watched him dive backwards, head first, into a wave, where he disappeared for a few seconds. Carolina leaned forward, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his head pop up out of the water. Jorge reached for him and pulled him back up.

Carolina was taken aback by Heather's question. "Why do you ask, sweetie?"

Heather dropped her head softly on her towel. "I was just wondering, that's all."

Carolina was intrigued. She wanted to know what else Heather was thinking about. She reached for the bottle of sun block lotion and poured a small amount in the palm of her hand, then rubbed the coconut-scented liquid on Heather's back. She lifted the strap of her neon green bathing suit and noted the marked tan line. "No, Heather, we are not getting married. Mommy and Jorge are friends. Just like Mommy and Aroldo are friends."

"I think he likes you."

"Of course," Carolina replied, patting Heather's head. "What's there not to like about Mommy?"

"No, not like that. I mean he really likes you. You know, boyfriend and girlfriend stuff."

"What makes you say that?"

"I dunno. He looks at you funny."

"He does? How's that?"

"Just funny. But don't marry him. You won't, will you?"

Carolina ran her fingers through her daughter's long, silky strands of hair. Her head felt warm from the heat of the sun. "You have nothing to worry about, sweetie. Jorge is just a friend of the family."

It was bad enough that she had chosen a less than adequate father for her children. All that Thomas had were his good looks and a knack for knowing how to have fun. Beyond that, he was a spoiled kid who had grown in years but not in spirit.

She would have wanted a great father-figure for them, but she wasn't about to bring a stepfather into the fold. Not now or ever. Tommy and Heather deserved the best she could give them, and right now she was all they needed. She'd learned to do the things that their father never did with them. It was she who had taught them to ride their bikes, to swim, roller-skate and fish. And she had cherished every moment, even though sometimes she felt they were being short-changed. There was simply no one there to call Dad or Papi, or someone strong to pick them up and toss them around, as Jorge was now doing with Tommy.

When it came down to men, her judgment was downright poor. She'd learned not to trust her instincts.

Tommy arrived yelling and kicking up sand, with Jorge chasing after him. Much as Carolina tried not to look, her attention was inevitably drawn toward Jorge. His black boxer-style swimming trunks that they'd picked up in the hotel's souvenir store revealed firm, muscular legs. His strong, tanned body was proof enough that he took the time to take care of himself.

"Mommy, I know the mariposa. Jorge taught me."

"No you don't," Heather argued. "You can't learn that in one day."

"Yes I did!" Tommy yelled. "Wanna see me?"

"Okay, you two. Settle down." Carolina reached inside the cooler for a bottle of lemonade. "Here, Tommy, have one and take a break." She gave Heather a bottle of apple juice and offered Jorge a can of soda. Jorge took a long swig of the cold beverage and momentarily looked out into the horizon and seemed to get lost in his thoughts. Carolina wondered what or who he was thinking about. Her eyes followed a light patch of hair on his chest that led down to his navel and disappeared beneath his shorts. His tan had deepened over the last few days and his eyes were clearer than ever. She observed his strong, square jawline and the way his Adam's apple moved up and down as he drank. His skin smelled of salt from the ocean.

Carolina took a deep breath, followed by a few gulps of lemonade. She looked in the direction that Jorge was looking, wondering if he was thinking of his beloved Cuba which was out there somewhere beyond the deeper hues of the Atlantic. She was vaguely aware of Jorge stealing a few glimpses in her direction. He'd been doing this every day since they'd met, something which never failed to send a warm feeling up her spine. Not once, however, did he step out of line and make a pass at her. He never insinuated anything that would lead her to believe he was remotely interested in her other than as a friend. But she was a woman, and she knew when a man's thoughts had crossed over into the realm of desire and longing. She'd noticed his roving eyes on more than one occasion when he thought she wasn't looking. So far, those eyes had rested on her small breasts, on her backside, her legs, and even her feet, where he had lingered for a while and said, "you have such beautiful toes." The few times their eyes had locked, he'd quickly looked away, as if embarrassed over the sudden and unexpected intimacy. And he was doing it again. As her eyes purposefully rested on the distant horizon where a cruise ship slowly made its way towards open seas, she became acutely aware of Jorge's wistful gaze.

"Why do you look at Mommy all the time?" Tommy asked.

"Hey, everybody," Carolina said quickly, "it's getting late and we have to go back to the hotel. We'll take a rest, then get showered and dressed for dinner."

Heather leaped to her feet and began folding her towel. Tommy, who didn't seem to notice that his question went unanswered, raised his fists and challenged Jorge to a boxing match. Jorge obliged him and Carolina had to step in and break things up or they'd be at the beach forever.

They hopped across the burning hot sand as quickly as possible until they reached cooler ground near the pool area of the hotel. A paradisiacal contrast to the sun-beaten sand, the crystalline pool was nestled within shady trees and lush tropical vegetation with a nearby waterfall cascading down coral rocks. Decorative lounge chairs with lobster-red vacationers basking in the sun dotted the landscape, while the joyous sounds of children and adults alike emanated from the salt water pool.

Heather and Tommy led the way while Jorge strolled along beside Carolina. Despite the sexual tension she felt around him all the time, there was also a cozy, familiar feeling to his presence, not unlike slipping her feet into warm slippers on a cold winter day. She was cognizant of the fact that mere inches separated them as they walked, and she felt his closeness like a subtle current of electricity. Her own skin tingled from the warmth that emanated from his skin, and she could hear the slow, rhythmic sound of his breathing. Something about this man was stirring the deepest, most primitive desires within her, and it was as exciting as it was scary.

They reached the elevator and stepped into the crowded, confined space. As his arm brushed against her bare shoulder, Carolina closed her eyes momentarily and reveled in the feel of this unexpected pleasure.

It was then that she chided herself. She simply must stop this nonsense. The elevator doors opened and she turned her full attention to Tommy and Heather, who tumbled out of the elevator in their usual clumsy and abrupt way.

* * *

Gonzalo took smaller steps to keep in sync with Carolina's pace. If there was one word to describe how he felt at this moment it would be canalla. Lower. A rat. He hadn't told her his truth yet, and he knew it was for selfish reasons. Gonzalo knew that once he told her who he wasn't, she'd despise who he was. That would be the end of this incredible fantasy he was enjoying so much. Carolina and the children were his family. For the past week he'd belonged to someone. Carolina was good to him. He'd fantasized she was his wife and that Heather and Tommy were their children. He still remembered that one stranger who'd walked up to them at the Seaquarium and commented on their being the perfect example of a happy, united family. The man had said, "You and your wife are obviously a match made in heaven...and the children, they're gorgeous!" Carolina had turned red but he'd swelled with pride. Everything about them together was what he'd always dreamed of having: a family. A wife who was both friend and lover. And loud, happy children. Carolina was an exceptional woman. In every way. She catered to her children's needs in remarkable ways, respecting them enough to listen to them, knowing when to be playful and when to be firm. But this didn't take away in the least from her charms as a woman. The way she spoke, the way she walked, even the way she ran her fingers through her hair, it was all done in a seductive way that reached him inside like a punch in the gut. His guess was that she didn't even know just how sensual and alluring she was, and that was what he liked most about her.

But he also realized the only reason she was being nice to him was because she thought he was someone else, someone named Jorge Rodriguez.

Tomorrow morning they were scheduled to leave for Connecticut. He had to come clean tonight. He'd postponed this moment far too long, and every minute he delayed only worsened his chances of a clean recovery from his blatant lie.

Gonzalo cleared his throat. "Carolina, I have to talk to you about something. Maybe tonight when the children are asleep."

Carolina looked into his eyes with some concern. "Is something wrong?"

Gonzalo rubbed his goatee. "No. I just need to discuss something with you."

"Sure. Okay."

They reached the hotel room door. "By the way," she said, "I keep trying to reach your father but the phone is either busy or he doesn't answer. I'm surprised he hasn't left a message at the hotel for you."

This called for another small lie. "He's a busy man," Gonzalo all but mumbled, while also relieved his cover hadn't been blown by someone else. It was he who had to tell Carolina the truth and no one else.

"Not really," Carolina said. "He's home all the time. A little old-fashioned, though. Do you know that he doesn't have call-waiting or three-way calling? Not even an answering machine."

"Call waiting?"

Carolina gave him a warm, understanding smile, then explained these unique telephone features that had revolutionized communication.

He laughed at his own ignorance. "I lived a much simpler life," he said.

"Don't worry, things change quickly. Before long, you'll be bringing your father into the twentieth century."

Carolina slid the electronic key through the slot and Heather and Tommy rushed inside and raced for the TV remote control. "We'll leave for dinner around six o'clock," Carolina said. "We need to pack early for tomorrow's trip."

Maybe it was only his imagination, but it seemed she had vacillated somewhat between staying in the hallway with him and going into the room. Gonzalo leaned his forearm on the wall and rubbed his chin with the other hand. "Carolina, sometimes one tries to do the right thing but something gets in the way and when too much time has gone by, the whole thing gets so complicated and--"

"You owe me no explanation about anything," Carolina said softly. "All that matters is that you'll soon reunite with your father. See you around six?"

"It's difficult for me to--"

"Mommy, it's my turn to pick what I want to see!" Tommy yelled from inside the room.

"I've gotta go," Carolina said. "See you in a little bit."

"Carolina, I'm not who you think I am....who I said I was--"

Carolina shook her head. "None of us are," she said. "We all do our best, and that's all we can do. I don't think anyone is ever the person they'd truly like to be."

Suddenly Tommy screamed, "Mommy, Heather won't give me my Pikachu!"

"I definitely have to go," she said, with a flustered look on her face. "See you at six. And Jorge, don't worry about anything. Just enjoy your new life and forget about the man you were. The past should stay in the past."

* * *

Carolina decided it would be best not to stray too far from the hotel. They needed to be up early for their departure, so finding a nearby place to eat was probably the best choice. With a twenty-four hour drive ahead of them, the last thing she wanted was to spend their last night in Miami driving around and looking for parking. She decided on a small outdoor restaurant on South Beach with a live band that played a range of music from Latin to Country.

Heather and Tommy, both tanned to a beautiful bronze, had dressed comfortably in shorts and tee-shirts, Heather in a scandalous red shirt and Tommy with his faded but favorite Pikachu shirt. Their light brown hair was streaked with golden highlights from the sun, turning their eyes lighter as if they had caught specks of sunlight in them.

Carolina wore a spaghetti strap summer dress she'd picked up at a quaint shop in Coconut Grove, forsaking the comfort of the loose-fitting clothes she normally wore for something more bold and daring, something more revealing. The dress was a screaming bright orange that clung to her slender body like a glove. Her skin was exposed from just below her breasts, down to her navel, through an open gap in the dress in the shape of an O. It was more like a skirt and top, attached by a smidgen of fabric at the sides. With the hem resting a good five inches above the knee, the concoction of a dress revealed much more than it concealed. Even Heather and Tommy were surprised to see her in something so un-mommy-like.

Tommy giggled, "Mommy, you're almost naked."

"She is not!" Heather said. Then she took another peek at the dress and her eyes rested on the open area of the dress. "Your bellybutton shows," she said making a face. "You look like my Barbie. Except you have bigger boobs."

Carolina made a face at Heather, then slipped her feet into a matching pair of sandals with five-inch stiletto heels. They were hardly as comfortable as sneakers, but she was willing to try on a new look for tonight.

"You look like a movie star, Mommy."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Carolina dashed into the bathroom for a quick make over. Tommy and Heather trailed behind.

She ruffled her short blond hair just enough to make it fluffy, then applied lipstick that matched the dress, touching her lips with a brownish lip liner. A little mascara brought out her long black lashes. Her diamond stud earrings sparkled against her sun-bronzed skin like stars against a pitch black sky. Before hurrying out the door, she paused and looked at the woman in the mirror, and had to admit that she looked stunning. So stunning that she hardly recognized herself. No wonder Tommy and Heather couldn't stop gawking. They were in complete shock over this side of her they weren't accustomed to.

And why was she doing this, anyway? A flurry of a thought popped into her mind. Was she doing this for Jorge? She hoped not. She'd rather think it was all the effect of the tropical setting, that scent of coconut palms and salty air that sent anyone's senses reeling in search of adventure.

A knock on the door sent a rush up her spine. Carolina stared into the mirror and wondered if she had applied too much lipstick, or if the dress was the right fit. Did she look tired? Had she gotten too much sun? Before she could say anything, Tommy and Heather had rushed to answer the door. "Ask who it is first," Carolina yelled out to them.

She heard Jorge's smooth, melodious voice in the background. Carolina froze in her spot. She checked in the mirror again. A few strands of hair were out of place. Darn. She ruffled her hair with her fingers, applied lipstick where it hadn't quite reached the corners of her mouth, smoothed the tip of her finger over her eyebrows. Then she got an incredible urge to cover up her exposed navel.

"Mommy, Jorge is here!" Heather called out from the other room.

Too late to change now. As she entered the room, Jorge's eyes lit up, drifted toward her belly area, then looked away quickly, as if embarrassed. He stole a few quick glimpses in her direction several times, but just as abruptly looked away, continuing this cat and mouse game until Carolina wanted to laugh at his futile battle with his hormones.

"Your mother looks very nice, doesn't she?" he finally said.

"Mommy, take your hand away from your belly so Jorge can see how cool the dress is."

Jorge turned to her and a coy smile lifted the corners of his all-too-seductive mouth. "Well, Mami?"

Carolina's hand had been resting on her belly the entire time she was in the room with them, an unconscious act. She dropped her hand to her side and turned quickly to reach for her purse, robbing Jorge of a bird's eye view. "Ready to go?"

Heather and Tommy turned their attention to the stack of Pokemon cards they had brought along, while Jorge walked by her side and made a few comments. You look so beautiful tonight...you have amazing eyes...that dress was made for you. Carolina was numb from the proximity of their bodies. The scent of soap emanating from his skin seemed sexy to her, causing her to envision him soaping up under a warm shower. He wore a pair of beige khaki pants with a tucked in, short-sleeve green and beige plaid shirt, something they'd picked up at Macy's a few days back. Even plainly dressed, she mused, he looked extremely sexy and even....fatherly. There was nothing more irresistible to her than a handsome man who looked conservative on the outside, but was bursting inside with raw passion. What woman could resist that? Not that it mattered, of course. She wasn't in search of a husband, and much less a surrogate father for her children. This had been, and would continue to be, her mantra. No need for a man in my life.

"Get back here, you two," Carolina called out to Tommy and Heather. She wondered if all children had that annoying habit of running out of sight at the first chance.

"You have very active children," Jorge pointed out.

"Yes they are. It wears me out just to watch them."

"All the children are the same. And where is their father?"

"He's in Connecticut. But we're divorced. Have been, for three years."

"Is he a good father to them?"

Carolina lowered her head. "Hardly. On the average, he sees them about once a month, if that. He's always too busy. At least, that's what he says."

Jorge nodded, his expression somber. "Do the children wish to see him more."

"Probably. Although I think they've grown indifferent. Tommy was only four when we separated, so he was too young to understand. Heather was a little over five. But he hardly spent time with them even when we were together, there really isn't much for them to miss."

"And what about you?" Jorge asked, looking deep into her eyes.

"Me? What about me?"

"A woman like you? There must be a man in your life."

"Please. I'm better off, believe me."

"You will find the right man one day."

Carolina cleared her throat, like that would stop the conversation from going where it was going. "I date now and then. But that's as far as it goes. My life is just fine the way it is."

"A woman like you?" he said, his eyes penetrating her all the way down to the pit of her stomach.

"I have more important things to do with my time," she said. "First, my children are everything to me. Then there's the bakery. I have no time for a relationship even if I did want one."

"Everyone needs...companionship, someone to love. Someone to walk hand-in-hand with," he said. "You are a woman, a beautiful woman, and you need more in your life."

Carolina felt an irresistible urge to fold her arms across her stomach. She felt completely exposed, naked and vulnerable, her soul as well as her body. She laughed, then looked up at him and said, "Well, I guess I put my time where it most counts."

When they reached the valet area, Carolina handed her ticket to the attendant. No sooner had she turned around then she noticed Tommy and Heather had darted out into the driveway in a game of tag. It was then that she heard the sound of screeching tires turning into the driveway. Instinct took over and she bolted toward her children.

But Jorge was quicker and came to their rescue first. Before Carolina had time to react, Jorge had Tommy and Heather dangling safely in his arms, kicking, laughing and begging him to put them down. Carolina ran to them and hugged them, panting from the sudden fright that had almost paralyzed her. "Thank you, Jorge," she said.

Carolina gave them the meanest look she could muster and wagged a finger at them. "I've told you not to run off like that. You are to stay by my side at all times. Do you understand? Do you?"

Heather nodded with downcast eyes. Tommy said, "But--"

"No buts," Carolina cut in. "Do you u-n-d-e-r-s-t-a-n-d?"

"Yes, Mommy."

The valet attendant driving the car ran up to them with a horrified look on his face. "I'm sorry, lady, I didn't see no kids there. They ran out too fast, too fast." He turned to the other attendant. "Didn't they run out too fast? You saw them."

Carolina heard the other attendant admonish him in a low voice, "Slow down, man, this isn't a freakin' raceway."

Jorge put Heather and Tommy down on the ground, then stooped to meet them at eye level. "We will make a deal, eh?"

Heather and Tommy listened attentively, and Carolina wondered why she couldn't get their solid attention the same way.

"I will give you each one dollar if the rest of the night you stay close to your mami." He pulled out two dollar bills to show he meant what he said, but snatched them away when Heather's and Tommy's quick little hands went for the grab. "First show me you know how to be good children."

Heather nodded in agreement. Tommy looked at his sister, then turned to Jorge. "She made me do it," he said.

"I did not!"

"Ssh, no importa. We have a deal, right? What happened before does not matter. It is in the past." He smacked both hands together and rubbed them back and forth, then raised them mid-air. "See? All gone."

The kids laughed, Jorge ruffled their hair, then turned to Carolina. "I think we are ready to go."

Carolina was speechless. And moved. Not only was this man amazingly handsome, but he'd touched the deepest, most profound part of her. A mother's heart was sacred ground, and few held the key to it.

When the attendant arrived with her car, Carolina proceeded to strap Tommy and Heather in their seats while Jorge eased into the front seat. She kissed Tommy and Heather on the forehead, then slid behind the wheel and drove off.

In her eyes, Jorge had gone up a notch in her book. There was now more to him beyond the chemistry. And that's what worried her. In the little time she'd known him, he'd touched her deeply. One tiny little event had marked a definitive line between a past that harbored him as a stranger to her, and the present, where he'd made a difference in her life. Her ex-husband, Thomas, had never added anything to her life, except that of biologically fathering her children.

He's nice, really nice, Carolina thought to herself over and over again. That makes it so much harder to see him as simply the friend of the family that he is.

* * *

Jorge held Tommy's hand and Carolina held Heather's as they walked into Salsa Nights, an open area restaurant and night club in South Beach. Seven o'clock was early for the South Beach crowd and they found they could choose from any number of tables. Jorge took the lead and picked a table near the stage where a small band was playing a merengue, or maybe it was a lambada. Carolina couldn't tell the difference. On the stage were three girls in short, skin-tight leopard skirts, wearing stiletto heels, and layers of makeup, dancing in an exotic fashion and shaking their guitar-shaped bodies at dizzying speed.

"Remember our agreement," Jorge said to Heather and Tommy. Then he turned to Carolina and said, "Order what you like. It is my turn to pay for everything."

"You don't have to do that," Carolina replied. "Your father gave me--"

"Please, Carolina," he said, his tone more serious. "Please allow me to do this for you."

Carolina threw her hands up in mock surrender. "Okay."

Heather tapped on Carolina's arm. "Mommy, can me and Tommy go and dance up there?" She pointed toward the foot of the stage where several couples and a few children were dancing. She looked to Jorge for his approval as well.

"Of course you can, sweetie. But don't wander off. Remember, if you can't see me, then I can't see you."

Tommy darted off after his sister. Carolina and Jorge laughed at their bravery in attempting to imitate the other dancers.

The waitress arrived minutes later and they ordered hot dogs, buffalo wings, chicken fingers, shrimp cocktail, and even tried a sample of the smoked fish platter. Jorge added to the order apple juice for Tommy and Heather, a soda for Carolina, and an Hatuey beer for himself.

When their food arrived, Carolina called Tommy and Heather to the table. As expected, they wolfed down half their dinner, then rushed back to the dance floor to join their new found friends in the conga line that was forming.

"One day they will grow up," Jorge said. "And very fast."

Carolina regarded her children contemplatively. "Yes, I know. My babies are growing up much too fast. They hardly need me sometimes."

"You have a life to live, too."

Carolina reached for her soda and raised it in a toast. "Yes, and I'm living it at the moment."

Suddenly Jorge's expression turned solemn, quite the contrast from the joyful and carefree attitude he'd exhibited so far. "Carolina, I have to say something that--"

"Excuse me, Jorge," Carolina said. "Tommy, stay where I can see you!" There he was again, wandering off into the crowd behind another child. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

Jorge shook his head. "Maybe we can talk later, when we are alone."

The music got louder as the evening progressed, the crowd thicker and more boisterous. Heather and Tommy grew tired of the dancing and began trading Pokemon cards with other children in the group. It seemed to Carolina that all children, not just her own, had gotten caught up in the Pokeman craze. The band introduced a slower piece, Si te pudiera mentir, by Marco Antonio Solis, so said a man holding the microphone. It was a welcome change from the heated pace of three merengues in a row. Her ears were still ringing.

Jorge tapped her hand. "Bailemos?"

With that seductive, irresistible smile of his, how could she possibly say no? The glimmer in his eyes was enough to lure her into a brief moment of intimacy. Carolina rose from her chair without hesitation. She slipped her hand into his large, open palm, and followed him to the dance floor. When he found an open clearing, he pulled her towards him slowly, careful not to graze her body with his own.

Her legs felt like lead as she tried to fall in step with him. It had been so long since she'd danced this close. She willed herself to relax, and as she did, she began to feel his breath on her, felt their bodies fall in sync. They moved slowly to a rhythm that seemed to carry her far and away. They remained distant, though, too distant for a song with music and lyrics that was meant to be danced cheek-to-cheek, belly to belly. Jorge's hand rested on the small of her back, the other held her hand firmly. She allowed herself to flow with the rhythm and followed his lead. What she tried not to do was look up into his face, for fear she might succumb completely and hopelessly to his spell. The distance made her feel safe. Carolina allowed herself to revel in the exquisite moment, while throwing an occasional watchful eye in the direction of the children.

She didn't know how it happened, but at some point the gap between them closed and she felt Jorge's rock hard chest pressed against her, swaying ever more gently to the music. It all felt so good, so wonderfully romantic and fresh and new. Being with Jorge this way reminded her of her childhood fantasies, the kind every girl had, about a prince showing up and sweeping her away into a magical land, a prince so true and handsome that he would take her breath away. Jorge took her breath away. And with her mind unencumbered by worries, her body artlessly followed the slow tempo of the music and Jorge's practiced lead. Softly, he pressed her closer to him, bringing their bodies closer and deeper, and Carolina closed her eyes and lost herself in the wonderful sensation of this new world she was unaccustomed to. This last night in Miami would forever be etched in her mind.

* * *

Gonzalo paced back and forth in his hotel room, feeling like a caged animal. He wanted to run. He wanted to run hard and fast from the mess he'd gotten himself into. He scratched his head, rubbed his chin, his eyes. He had to tell Carolina now. It had to be now, tonight.

They'd already been back from dinner for over an hour. Carolina was down the hall in her hotel room packing for the trip the following day. The trip to Connecticut, where he would supposedly reunite with his father. All along he'd postponed telling her the truth. And why? Porque era un idiota, that's why. He was a coward. He'd pretended to be someone he wasn't, all because he was enjoying himself too much. He was no better than that lying and cheating Candita. And definitely no better than Carolina's ex-husband. Carolina deserved better. Her children deserved better.

But he'd run out of time. The moment of truth had come and he had to spiel out his whole truth. Every sordid detail. And then...Carolina would probably send him to hell. Of course, he'd earned it every single pleasurable step of the way. Now it was time to pay up. There was always a time to pay up.

Gonzalo looked at the haggard reflection in the mirror. Guilt was etched all over his face, and remorse. Two different emotions were ripping his soul apart. One was shame over what he'd done. The other, well, the other was a deep and stabbing sense of loss. His short-lived fantasy with Carolina would soon be over.

* * *

Carolina zipped up the last suit case, now packed to the hilt with all the new things they'd purchased during their vacation. Key chains, ash trays, beach towels, key lime candies. So much stuff. With great effort, she pulled the heavy suit case off the bed and let it drop on the floor.

Tommy and Heather were sound asleep. After a quick shower, she, too, would slip under the cool sheets for a good night's rest. A long day was ahead of them. All those hours in the car with Tommy and Heather fighting in the back....not something to look forward to. Then she remembered Jorge would be there this time and she felt a sense of relief as a smile tugged on her lips.

The shrilling sound of the telephone stopped her mid-way to the bathroom. The sound of Aroldo's voice caught her by surprise.

"Aroldo! I'm surprised you didn't call sooner. I've tried reaching you--"

"Si, si, si, si, si, Carolina," he interrupted her. "I know I should have called you, but I figured Carlos Martinez would have told you right away about what happened. How was your vacation?"

How strange that he didn't ask about Jorge right away, Carolina mused. "Aroldo, I've tried calling you several times but I could never get through. I thought you would be anxious to talk to your son."

"Oh, Carolina, I have been talking to him every day. Believe me! I still cannot believe he did this to me."

"Aroldo, what are you talking about?"

After a brief pause, he replied, "What do you mean what am I talking about? My son, of course. Jorge. I cannot believe he would stand me up this way. After we agreed he would leave Cuba, just like that he decides to stay!"

A cold, icy shiver coiled up Carolina's spine. Everything she wanted to say and ask got so jumbled up in her brain that she couldn't find the words.

"Carolina? Are you there? Look, I'm sorry if you went out of your way when you went to pick up my son. I tried to reach you but you were never at the hotel. And you know I don't like leaving messages with strangers. But this whole fiasco only cost you a few minutes of your time, right?"

Carolina no longer heard a word he was saying. She was too busy trying to swallow the dry, hard lump in her throat. Finally, the first words escaped her throat. "You mean your son did not leave Cuba?"

"No. Can you believe that? And he won't be. He says he's getting married."

"Are you sure?"

"What, that he's getting married? Who knows. That ingrate obviously doesn't know what he wants."

"No, I mean are you sure he is still in Cuba?"

"Of course. I spoke to him an hour ago. He still refuses to leave. He says he's in love. Can you believe it?"

This can't be. Maybe there's a mistake, Carolina thought. "Aroldo, what does your son look like?"

"Spitting image of me, of course."

Oh God...oh God! "I...have...to leave now," Carolina stammered. "I...need to finish packing."

"Of course, I don't want to keep you longer. I was just wondering if you could do me a little favor. I was trying to call Carlos Martinez but his phone is out of order. I'm sure he will refund me the money. Would it be too much out of your way to pay him a visit?"

"I'll go in the morning," Carolina promised. The numbing sensation was slowly dissipating. Raw anger was beginning to set in.

"Thank you, Carolina," Aroldo said with a tone of relief in his voice. "Please forgive me for the inconvenience. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"Nothing is too much trouble when it comes to you, Aroldo."

She almost felt him smile on the other end of the line. And she was thankful they were on the phone, because if he could see her now he'd see that she was a walking volcano and that hot lava might spew out of her mouth any minute. "Don't worry, Aroldo," she assured him once again, "everything is okay. No harm done."

Carolina replaced the receiver slowly and quietly. Who was that man posing as Jorge? And how could she have been so stupid? But worse, what was it about her that always attracted losers this way?

Chapter Three

Carolina pulled the bed covers over Tommy and Heather and tucked the edges in, planting a kiss on their warm cheeks. Then, remembering the anger inside, she left the hotel room, closing the door quietly behind her. Now that she was out of earshot, she grunted and stomped down the hall toward that no-good whatever-his-name-was. Tears threatened to form in her eyes, but she stopped them cold, for they would only undermine every hateful thing she wanted to say.

Halfway there, she heard a door open and saw Jorge...whoever he was...emerge from his room. Interestingly, he seemed to have as determined an agenda as her own. Undeterred, he marched toward her and skipped any formal greeting. "Carolina, we have to talk. Now."

"You bet we do!" she barked. She jabbed a finger in his chest three times, forcing him to step back on the third assault. "Who are you!" she demanded. "C'mon, spit it out. You've got seconds to come out with it or I'll call security."

His eyes widened in total disbelief. Carolina couldn't tell if he was shocked or disappointed. Then he opened his mouth, no doubt to say something in his defense, but she cut him off abruptly. She raised her hand and wagged a finger at him. "I know all about your dirty little scheme. Did you think I'd never find out? And just how long did you think this little charade of yours would last, huh? I should have you deported to Cuba this minute!"

"Carolina, please let me--"

Carolina put a hand to her throat. The air felt as if it were being sucked out of her. She had forgotten about her little hyperventilation problem whenever she panicked or got this angry. She gasped for air and Jorge quickly placed a hand on her back. He rubbed back and forth and imitated deep breathing for her. "Respira profundo," he said. "Asi...."

Carolina took deep breaths, forcing her mind to stay calm. Slowly, normal breathing resumed and she was ready to continue the fight.

In an even, clipped tone, she said, "You have lied to me, to my children, and who knows, maybe even to immigration. Who are you? I want the truth. Now!"

He nodded, his face showing no trace of fear or malice or anything that a true villain would express. He was calm. Looking her straight in the eyes, he said, "Me llamo Gonzalo Sevilla. I have been wanting to tell you the truth, but every time I started to....I don't know, something always happened."

"Don't give me that sorry excuse. You've had plenty of time to speak up. And another thing, Jorge...or Gonzalo, whoever you are, if I can't get the money back from Carlos Martinez tomorrow," and she jabbed a finger in his chest for emphasis, "you owe me big time. I don't care how you get the money, but you're paying back every cent. Do you understand?"

Gonzalo nodded. "That was always my intention. Don't you think I could have simply walked away before you even arrived? I waited for you because I wanted to make an arrangement to repay you for the money."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I don't buy it."

"Carolina, please, come inside so we can talk. Please, I will explain everything. I know you will never want to see me again. But I need to tell you everything now."

"Well, my children are sleeping and I'm not about to wake them up. And I'm certainly not going into your room, so I guess you'll have to dish it all out here in this corridor."

An older couple with angel white hair shuffled along past them. The man used a cane for support and the woman held onto his arm. She smiled. "A lover's spat," she said. "I remember those. It's always nice to make up afterwards, Dear." They continued her slow trot down the hall.

Carolina couldn't resist responding. "Oh, we're not married," she said. "This man is a complete farce. A phony."

The woman shook her head knowingly. "Why Dear, I used to say those very things. Look at us now." She winked as they opened the door to their room and disappeared inside.

"Ugh." Carolina looked straight up into Gonzalo's face. His eyes seemed to be full of regret, or maybe sadness. Either way, she wasn't about to let that fool her again. The man was an imposter, a liar and a fool.

This was all just more proof of how poor her judgment was. "Go ahead," she said, "I don't have all night and you owe me an explanation, so speak up. Then I'll decide whether or not to report you." She folded her arms across her chest defiantly.

Gonzalo attempted a reply but, again, Carolina cut him off. "And I'm not doing this so you can redeem yourself. I'm just too curious about what you have to say for yourself and your despicable ways." She folded her arms across her chest. "Go on."

Gonzalo began at the very beginning. He started with a story about his trip to Sagua La Chica, and how he learned that Jorge Rodriguez was having second thoughts about leaving Cuba because of a woman he was involved with. Carolina already knew through Aroldo that his son had stayed in Cuba because of a woman, so that part of Gonzalo's story was believable. He then went on to say that he needed to start a new life for himself, and how he saw the situation as a one-time opportunity. He waited for the boat to arrive and when he saw that Jorge had in fact not showed up, he went in his place. He said he was Jorge Rodriguez and that was it. End of story. He did add that he used his real name, Gonzalo Sevilla, while being processed through immigration, and that he was in the United States legally.

"You see, Carolina, I didn't have to say anything to you about this. I waited for whoever would be coming for Jorge so that I could make arrangements to repay this person. But I stayed quiet for a while because I was not sure if you would report me. I had to be careful about how and when I told you."

"And just how long were you going to wait?" she said, her tone still bitter.

Gonzalo rubbed his chin. "Part of me wanted to tell you. And part of me did not."

"Right. Because you're a liar. An opportunist who likes to prey on innocent women and children."

"I...bueno, es que...I was enjoying being part of your family...and I did not want to see things end. I knew that once you knew the truth, it would all be over."

"How could you expect anything different?"

"Carolina, I never meant any harm to you or your children."

He was right about that part. Gonzalo had been courteous and kind at all times. But that little snake of doubt raised its suspicious head, reminding her of just how bad her judgment was...always had been. Gonzalo couldn't be trusted any more than any other man.

"I will never bother you again," Gonzalo promised.

The look of sincerity etched on his face made it difficult for her not to believe him. And she had to admit that his story, although bizarre, was completely plausible. That was her gift, or perhaps her downfall: she had a knack for being able to put herself in someone else's shoes and see things from a different perspective. Nothing that Gonzalo said belied Aroldo's version of what happened. On the contrary, Gonzalo's story was the half that explained the gaps in Aroldo's.

"Okay, then, let's say you're at least saying half-truths. I hold no grudges. And I won't report you. Now, I have to get back to my children." She turned to leave, then stopped and faced him. "Oh, and your room is paid for, so you might as well spend the night."

Carolina turned and headed back to her room. An odd sensation coursed through her, but she couldn't decipher what it was. It felt like sadness over never seeing Gonzalo again. Perhaps even regret over the things that might have been and now would never be. But, she reminded herself, the guy had lied to her. He couldn't be trusted. Gonzalo could never be her friend, much less a man to share her life with.

Carolina heard Gonzalo call out to her. She walked on, refusing to look back, then entered her hotel room and shut the door. She leaned her head against the door, wondering what Gonzalo would do next. For a few interminable seconds there was complete silence, then a soft knock.

"Yes?" she whispered through the crack.

His deep voice came through muffled. "Carolina, all I am asking is that you do not hate me. What I did was wrong, I admit that. But I am not the man you think I am. I am not a liar, and I would never...ever...take advantage of a woman or her children." After a brief pause, he continued, "I need you to believe that. You do not have to see me again. But I need you to believe me. Please."

"I don't hate you," she replied. "Just leave, will you?" She could sense the agony in his tone, and it moved her more than she was ready to admit.

"I do not believe you," he continued. "I am not what you think. Te lo juro. Do you hear me, querida?"

Querida? That was such a beautifully endearing word to use. She remembered hearing it in those Spanish soap operas where men gave their lives for the love of a woman.

"Carolina? Are you still there? Can we talk? Por favor, Carolina. Hablame, querida."

That word again. Carolina cleared her throat. "Everything has been said. There's nothing else. I don't hate you...you're free to go." That should do it, she thought.

"But I do not want us to part this way. This cannot be the memory of our last day together. I need your complete forgiveness. Please?"

"I said I didn't hate you."

"That is not enough."

"I think it's best if we just leave things the way they are, Gonzalo. I harbor no ill feelings toward you, so please don't make this difficult."

"Difficult? How am I making this difficult?"

"I didn't mean difficult. What I meant to say was bothersome. You're being bothersome."

"What does that word mean?"

"That you're being annoying. Please just go away. Leave us alone."

There was silence after that, and Carolina thought the ordeal had finally come to an end.

"Where will you be in Connecticut?" he continued.

Carolina took a deep breath and exhaled in a purposeful loud way. "Good night, Gonzalo. I wish you well."

What followed was the faint sound of footsteps disappearing down the hall. Footsteps that reverberated within her own heart like a hammer sealing in a coffin. Carolina envisioned him at that moment, head bowed, long arms at his side, his beautiful lips turned into a frown. Something inside her wanted to call out to him, and that something was a sharp, biting loneliness. Then she turned and looked at her two little children sleeping quietly in their bed.

And she remembered where her priorities were.

* * *

Carolina had a bit of explaining to do the following morning. She told Heather and Tommy that, contrary to the original plan, Jorge, whose real name was Gonzalo, would be staying in Miami and not driving back with them to Connecticut. Tommy threw himself on the floor and had a tantrum. Heather just wanted more answers.

"You mean he changed his name?"

"No. He's not Aroldo's son. There was a mix-up. Mommy messed up."

"What is he, like a spy or something? How cool is that!"

"No, he's not a spy. He's just...never mind. I don't want to discuss this further."

Other plans had changed as well. Instead of leaving at five in the morning as she'd planned, they'd have to leave later in the morning, after she paid Carlos Martinez a quick visit to see if she could get Aroldo's money back. After all, it was Carlos Martinez's mistake. He'd brought back the wrong guy.

When they arrived at the food market, Carolina's hopes of recuperating the money slowly dissipated, and for no explicable reason. It was a gut feeling that had emerged the previous night and had only grown stronger since then.

She parked in the back as last time, and took Tommy and Heather with her.

She headed for the fish stand, but the guy tending it wasn't Carlos Martinez. In his place was a dark, burly man in a tattered shirt stained with fish blood.

"Buenos dias," she greeted the man. "I'm here to see Carlos Martinez."

The man raised his eyes, then returned his attention to the fish he was cleaning. "And who are you?" he asked in a deep voice.

"Carolina. He'll know what I'm here for. Is he around?"

"He's not here, Carolina. He won't be here for a long time."

"How long is long? An hour? A day?"

The man chuckled. "You don't read the paper, do you?"

"I'm not from Miami, so, no, I can't say I've read the paper during my stay here. Why?"

Without taking his eyes off his work, he said, "Carlos is in jail. His boat ran out of gas on his last trip from Cuba. The border patrol took him and threw him in jail."

Carolina gasped. She glanced at the children. Good thing they were distracted and hadn't heard anything. "I see," she said, taking a few steps back and slowly retreating. "Thank you. If he asks, just tell him I got some bad fish."

The man grunted something of a response, but Carolina wasted no time in heading towards her car. The last thing she needed was to get implicated in a scandal. As for Aroldo, it was too bad he had to lose all that money. But the entire venture had been a risk from the start. There was nothing else she could do for him.

With everything packed and sitting in the trunk, she was ready to drive for the next several hours without stopping. She had almost reached the ramp for I-95 when Tommy screamed, "My cards! I left my Pokeman cards at the hotel!"

"Tommy, I've told you to be more responsible."

"I'm sorry, Mommy. You were in a hurry and I forgot."

Carolina bypassed the entrance ramp for I-95 and continued on course to the beach. They reached the hotel and she pulled alongside a parking meter, this time putting in extra coins for added security.

Tommy was ecstatic to have regained his treasured collection, after which they left the hotel, this time for good. Carolina pulled into the main street and drove alongside the canal where luxury yachts bobbed in the water. She was oblivious to everything else except getting on that highway and going home.

Again, Tommy's yell startled her. "Look, there's Jorge!"

"It's not Jorge," Heather was quick to admonish him. "It's G-o-n-z-a-l-o."

Carolina looked in the direction that Tommy was pointing, while trying to keep her eyes on the road ahead.

"Stop, Mommy! Maybe Jorge changed his mind."

"It's Gonzalo!" Heather said. "Can't you remember anything?"

"Shut up!" Tommy snapped at his sister.

"Stop it, you two," Carolina said. "Sweetheart, I'm sure Gonzalo has places to go. He doesn't need to be bothered with us."

"No, Mommy, I know he wants to come with us, I just know it." Tommy leaned his forehead against the window, his little nose flattening against the glass. "Look at him, Mommy, he looks lonely."

"You think you know everything," Heather argued. "Maybe he wants to stay in Miami. Maybe he has a girlfriend here, right Mommy?"

Carolina kept searching for Gonzalo. She slowed down, aware that she was stopping traffic behind her.

"Mommy, you're going past him!" Tommy yelled.

Carolina pulled the car curbside and stopped. "Tommy, settle down," she said. "I don't see Jorge...I mean, Gonzalo. You have to stop these outbursts."

"He's right back there," Tommy said, pointing behind him. "He's walking this way."

Carolina swallowed a dry, hard lump in her throat. She had seconds to make a decision. And that decision would seal her fate forever. She could leave and never look back again, or she could stay and accept the consequences. One...two...three...four...seconds....five...

Damn this heart of mine! She shoved the gear into park and turned off the ignition. God help me.

Tommy clapped and cheered.

"Don't open that door," Carolina ordered. "Stay inside."

She stepped out of the car and closed the door. When she reached the sidewalk, sure enough Gonzalo was fast approaching, with his black duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. When he spotted her, his pace slowed down.

Carolina started towards him. Her heart raced at the sight of him. He was clad in a snug pair of blue jeans that delineated his firm, narrow hips and long legs. A white cotton tee shirt brought out his bronze tan and his blue-gray eyes. When he smiled, her attention was quickly drawn to his amiable semblance and his sexy goatee, something which provoked a delightful flutter in her stomach.

He stopped just inches from her. His eyes glazed over in a quiet hello.

Carolina shoved both hands into the pockets of her olive green Bermuda shorts. "I was wondering...you said you had a cousin in New Jersey. I can give you a lift. I mean, it's on the way and all so I figured why not. I don't have to go out of my way."

After quietly contemplating her for a moment, Gonzalo raised his head and stared quietly at the bright overhead sun, squinting. He smiled. "Does that mean we can start all over again? As friends?"

"Yes. As friends. Whatever happened before between us, or almost happened or whatever...that's history. Things are different now."

His smile faded and he bit his lower lip, something Carolina found irresistible. "That is very fair," he said. "Gracias."

Carolina pointed toward the car. "Besides, Tommy would love to have you come along." She followed Gonzalo's eyes toward the backseat window, where Tommy's face was pressed against the glass.

Gonzalo still bore a trace of doubt on his face. He hesitated at first, then said, "Muy bien. Let's go."

Carolina popped open the trunk and Gonzalo dropped his duffel bag inside. Finally they were on their way. Tommy cheered and put his arms around Gonzalo in an affectionate hug. Gonzalo responded by ruffling his hair and reminding him to sit back and put his seat belt back on. Heather smiled, but then got a worried look on her face and for the most part stared out the window.

Carolina still had plenty of doubts about this arrangement, but realized that he could be of some use to her on the trip. He could keep Heather and Tommy entertained throughout the long ride. He'd already proved he wasn't dangerous. And besides, he was only going as far as New Jersey. After that, she would be rid of him for good.

To order or learn more!