CHAPTER 110

Rosa's POV

There are three very important things I have never told anyone in my family. Number one: I can understand, speak and write fairly fluently in the English language. Number two: I much prefer Thai, Italian, Greek or any other cuisine over the Cuban food I have eaten every day of my life since I was born. And last, but certainly not least, Number three: I was never in love with my first husband, Alejandro Mañoso.

In all truth and fairness, I did love Alejandro as a person. After all, he was the father of my two children. He worked hard to carve out a good life for our family here in America after we left Cuba. He built the highly successful restaurant that bears my name. He was a good man, a solid man. Yes, I loved Alejandro, but I never was in love with him.

My mother always told me how blessed I was to have a husband who truly wanted to provide for his family in the best of ways. She told me it was better than having a dreamer for a husband – like my father – who never really lived up to his potential during his lifetime. My poor mother! She died before Alejandro could earn enough money to bring her to the States. She never saw any of her grandchildren, let alone great grandchildren. She never saw the great successes of her son-in-law. She also never saw the desperate loneliness I, her only daughter, experienced as Alejandro poured his heart, soul, mind and strength into making Rosa's the premier restaurant it still is today. She never knew how empty my marriage was. What a sobering thought.

To be fair, I was only sixteen when I married Alejandro and he was already a man of thirty years, ready to establish himself in the restaurant business in the United States. I was so very full of life back then, and he was so very serious about everything. We had our first son when I was seventeen, our second son when I was eighteen, and then no more. Our precious Alejandro Pablo, Junior, died before his fourth birthday. After our devastating loss, my husband buried his pain by giving what remained of his love and energy and concern to both Rosa's and young Ricardo until there was nothing left over for me. At the time, I was barely twenty-one, but I felt much, much older.

Dawson Books makes me feel young! Ever since the day we met, there is energy coursing through my veins and there is such vitality in my soul. I never felt such things with Alejandro Senior. Even though he is several years younger than I am, Dawson and I have so much in common. He enjoys the same kinds of music and art I enjoy. We like to go out and try new restaurants. We have a lot of fun discussing books we have read, too. It is nice that my novio speaks Spanish and several other languages so fluently, but it really does not matter which language comes out of his mouth because he speaks the language of love quite eloquently as well.

Naturally, my family – especially my stubborn fool of a son – is struggling to understand how I could fall for a man whom they think is so different from the person they believe me to be. Of course, they see me as a frail, sheltered, and vulnerable old Cuban lady. They think I am marrying a man who cannot love me properly because he is not Cuban. And Ricardo thinks Dawson is taking advantage of the depth of my ignorance and fragility. None of them truly understands how content and joyful I was today as I exchanged marriage vows with the man I know I will love and with whom I will be in love until the day I die.

Yes, I am the happiest woman in the world! Today, I, Rosa Elena Garciapara Mañoso, married the love of my life, my novio, Dawson Horatio Books. It has been the best day of my life so far and I can hardly believe this really has happened. Who knew there could be such complete joy? I know the Blessed Mother has been watching over me my entire life, through all the good times and the bad, but I never thought I would be filled to overflowing with this amazing love. I am so giddy, I feel like I am sixteen again!

The entire day was perfect! Dawson and I had planned every detail of our wedding day so everything was the way we wanted it to be. This was very different from my first wedding, where my mother and Alejandro's mother made all the decisions. I had had absolutely no say in any aspect of that day, from the wedding gown to the vows to the family party afterward. This time, Dawson and I made all the decisions together. We chose the flowers and decorations, the food and champagne, our wedding attire and the three-tiered wedding cake, so they all were, of course, magnificent.

Valentine's Day was gorgeous and clear, a windy, blue-sky Saturday. In fact, the wind had blown away most of the remaining snow and we could see the dormant, yet still-green grass. The wedding ceremony took place at three o'clock in the afternoon, which was not too early and not too late. We wanted to be able to ease into the day, have a great time celebrating with family and friends, and then get a good night's sleep before we boarded our morning flight to whatever destination Dawson had chosen for our two-week honeymoon.

Teresa and Ricardo arrived a couple of hours before everyone else so that she, as my Matron of Honor, could help me finish dressing while the photographer took pictures. Although I saw him for only a moment, I was amazed by my son's subdued nature. I know Ricardo still felt a bit scandalized over the lack of a nuptial Mass, but Father Brady explained how he, as our spiritual leader, was fine with the casual structure of this wedding between two mature people who have found love again after suffering through so many years of loneliness. While I believe Father Brady's frank discussions with Ricardo have helped my son to become more reasonable lately, I got the distinct impression my daughter-in-law read her husband the riot act before they came over.

Ricardo believes he has lost control of his world, but he does not seem to realize he never completely controlled it – and certainly not my part in it – anyway. At first, I was not even going to invite him to my wedding, but Dawson warned me I might regret such a decision as time went on. My wise novio was right, of course, and so I allowed my stubborn, unapologetic son to escort his wife to the wedding itself. I knew Ricardo would not be able to stay for the reception because Saturday is always the busiest night of the week at Rosa's and Alejandro had the night off. Luckily, my son stayed on his best behavior during the ceremony, because I would not have tolerated anything less.

Unfortunately, Dawson's sister, Catherine and her famous architect husband, Marcus Ward, were not able to make it back from an important conference they were attending in Tokyo, but they sent their congratulations along with first class airline tickets to join them on vacation at their villa in Tuscany later in the year. Only Stephanie and Dawson's lawyer, Peter Swifford, and his wife were there as the "family" of the groom. Besides Teresa and Ricardo, my grandchildren and their spouses, as well as Carmen and her son and daughter-in-law, were in attendance as Dawson and I exchanged our simple vows. I tried not to think about my precious Carlito's absence. Thankfully, Stephanie's presence made me feel as though part of Carlos' heart was there with us anyway.

The grand foyer of our palatial home looked magnificent. Prior to and during the actual ceremony, the jazz combo we hired was set up next to our grand piano in the alcove near the base of the long staircase. The musicians were quite versatile. They could play everything from popular jazz standards to Latin salsa music, as well as a few classical pieces. I felt like a queen as I slowly descended the winding staircase to the strains of Pachelbel's Canon in D, which the musicians played as well as any string quartet.

Everyone watched as I made my entrance. Stephanie stood next to Dawson, who stood next to Father Brady at the base of the stairs. My lovely future granddaughter-in-law smiled up at me with radiant joy. Teresa stood on the other side of the staircase, her eyes bright with happy tears. Ricardo was behind her, standing sullenly amidst his children and their spouses, but I refused to make eye contact with him. Indeed, I knew all eyes were on me as I made my way down to the foyer, but I really had eyes only for my handsome novio.

My mind was in a constant state of bliss, which made everything seem to go very quickly. After the ceremony, all of our guests – except Ricardo, because he had to go to Rosa's – congratulated us and then joined us for a magnificent celebratory meal in our immense dining room. In the spirit of compromise, Dawson convinced me to allow our caterers to serve a combination of Cuban and non-Cuban dishes. We started out with a very traditional Cuban crema de malanga soup, an island cousin to cream of potato soup. Then we left the island cuisine behind us and enjoyed crisp garden salads tossed with a tangy raspberry-walnut vinaigrette, bacon-wrapped filet mignon and steamed Maine lobster tails, and a colorful medley of seasoned vegetables. We also enjoyed a light strawberry sorbet after the meal, before we cut the wedding cake.

The champagne flowed freely and everyone seemed to enjoy the meal. Of course, Ricardo's absence helped. I am certain he would have critiqued every bit of the fabulous meal only because he had had no part in planning or preparing it.

Since I am not supposed to understand English, Teresa and Stephanie collaborated on the toasts, with Teresa translating the English into Spanish for me. As the "Best Man," Stephanie gave us a lovely tribute and wished us a long and happy partnership. Likewise, Teresa honored us with an emotional and heartfelt toast. Then Dawson and I thanked everyone for coming before we cut the cake and invited them to join us on the dance floor. It was such fun! Nevertheless, when the party was over, I was ecstatic to finally be alone with my new husband – the man I truly loved.

Dawson's POV

I am the happiest man in the world! Today, I married the woman who has captivated my thoughts and enlivened both my days and my nights ever since she strolled into my company headquarters and settled into my life. Before Rosa, I was merely going through the motions of everyday living. To be fair, the discovery of and the partnership with the vibrant and creative force of Stephanie Plum had already brightened my days considerably. But Rosa … ah, my dear sweet Rosa, made my nights unforgettable! Neither of us will ever be lonely again.

Interestingly, Rosa and I had similar experiences with our first spouses. Her Alejandro was completely engrossed in his restaurant business and my Maggie was the creative force behind our company's designs. The main difference between our marriages was children. According to Rosa, after she gave birth to her sons, her husband continued to focus on his business, and she felt almost as though Rosa's was Alejandro's real wife and she was only his mistress. Maggie and I never had any children, so we poured our love into our lingerie business together. If we had been able to have children, I believe it would have been very difficult for Maggie to pull herself away from all her design work and raise them.

I'm very fortunate now to have Stephanie as my business partner and Rosa as my life partner. This is a very good thing. In the future, after Rosa's grandson returns from his military mission, I know both Stephanie and I will be able to send each other home to our respective spouses. Although I seriously doubt either of us will have any issues with misplaced lifestyle priorities, neither of us will allow our business to interfere with our marriages.

I was pondering all these things a few hours before the wedding ceremony when Rosa's son and daughter-in-law arrived at the house. After ushering Teresa upstairs to help Rosa with her final preparations, Ricardo and I stood face to face in the large open foyer and studied each other. I do not know what he saw when he looked at me, but what I saw when I looked at him was a defeated and defiant man. Obviously, he still didn't trust me and he wasn't pleased I was marrying his mother. I decided it was time for us to clear the air.

"Thank you for coming today," I said, "I know it means a lot to your mother."

Ricardo's mouth tightened and he replied coldly, "Please, Mr. Books, let us not have any pretenses between us. My wife told me it was you who convinced my mother to allow my presence here today, so it is I who owe you thanks."

I held in a sigh and said, "Yes, well, I believe in family harmony. And please call me Dawson."

"Hmph," he snorted. "What would you know about the sacred bond between a parent and child, Mr. Books? I have done my research on you. Your father was a well-respected businessman on Madison Avenue, but you chose not to follow in his footsteps. No, you chose to design women's … ah, unmentionables. And it is my understanding that you and your first wife had no children. I do not know how you wormed your way into my mother's life, but you cannot possibly comprehend the damage you have done to our relationship, can you?"

I pursed my lips and counted to ten in my mind before answering, "Actually, I believe I can and do understand much more than you give me credit for."

"I seriously doubt that," he scoffed.

"Please come into my library and allow me to explain," I said and then I led him there without waiting for his acquiescence. "I don't know if your research uncovered this, but my family is originally from Great Britain." I closed the library's French doors behind us.

"One of the articles I read mentioned that fact," he said as we each sat down in large leather chairs.

Leaning forward, I continued, "Many generations of my forebears were accountants – bookkeepers – thus, the name 'Books.' Members of my extended family served several of the great lords and other members of the peerage all the way through the end of the nineteenth century, when my great-grandfather left London to become a tailor in New York City."

"A tailor?" Ricardo asked. "That's quite a career change."

I smiled. "Indeed. But my great-grandfather despised keeping books. He hated having ink-stained fingers and he loved the feel of cloth between his hands. He desperately wanted to be a tailor and he sought an apprenticeship with one of the finest men's shops in the country. He became highly proficient as a tailor and when the company expanded to America, he accepted the offer to move across the ocean. Of course, none of this went over well with his father."

"Of course," agreed Ricardo, waving his hand in the air for emphasis. "A man has to be disappointed when his own son does not want to follow in his footsteps. Especially when there is so much tradition involved."

"Tradition or not, it helped that an American heiress fell in love with my great-grandfather shortly after he arrived in New York," I said. "His son, my grandfather, also became a tailor and although he rose to prominence during the Great War, he never was able to establish his own design house. His son, my father, didn't want to be a tailor. Oddly enough, he loved numbers, so he reverted to the older family tradition and became what today would be considered the Chief Financial Officer at a major advertising agency on Madison Avenue. My sister and I, however, preferred to accompany our grandfather to work, where we both decided to follow in his footsteps instead of our father's. As you may know, my sister is now a world-famous interior designer and I established Books Designs over forty years ago."

"Yes, I did read about that," he said. "Perhaps if you had become an interior designer, like your sister, or even a designer of menswear instead of ladies underwear, things would be different."

"Most definitely different," I agreed. "If I had done anything else with my life, I wouldn't have been able to offer Stephanie Plum a partnership with my company, which means we never would have designed the Babe! lingerie line, which means we wouldn't have launched an advertising campaign or searched for models, which means it probably would have taken me a lot longer to meet your mother. And I promise you, Ricardo, I would have met your mother sooner or later. We were made for each other."

Ricardo rose out of his chair and growled, "My mother loved my father, may he rest in peace. You have no right to-"

I rose out of my chair and cut him off. "I have every right to meet and fall in love with such a beautiful and vibrant woman as Rosa!"

"She is my mother!" Ricardo raised his voice. "She is old and frail and it is my responsibility as a good son to take care of her in her golden years. You should have left her alone!"

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" I exclaimed as I fought to stay in control of my temper. "Rosa is the woman I love and she is neither old nor frail! Please refrain from spouting such nonsense in my home. Dear Lord! I'm so glad Rosa can't hear you right now."

"I should have taken my mother home long before now," he growled. "You have dishonored her by living here in sin with her. And to add insult to injury, you have taken photographs of a questionable nature of her and published them for all the world to see."

I sighed and shook my head in disbelief. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Rosa and I are mature adults. We have long since passed the age of consent. Besides, this is America, son. Remember, 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness'? Well, pursuing happiness is exactly what Rosa and I intend to do with the remaining days of our lives, however long they may be. And as for questionable photographs, let me show you something."

Then I led Ricardo out of the library and back to the foyer, where the musicians were beginning to set up. I showed him the set of four black and white photographs I had taken and recently had hung on the wall behind the piano. They all were of Rosa in various poses and I had placed each photo in a simple black frame. In the first frame, Rosa was against a white background, wearing her hair up in an elegant chignon, and she had placed one of her hands along her face. The next photo had a black background and Rosa's hair was flowing free, away from her face. In the third frame, she was wearing one of my black fedoras and one of my plain white dress shirts. The final photo showed a very sultry-looking Rosa, holding a strand of pearls next to her face. We had had such fun together when I took each of the photos.

I watched Ricardo as he studied each photo intensely, and I hoped he could see the evidence of the love I have for Rosa. It seemed to me that he gazed at the last photo – my personal favorite – for the longest time. He said nothing as the musicians worked around him, setting up their instruments and microphones and other equipment. Finally, he turned to me and told me he needed some fresh air. Then he walked to the front door, opened it and stepped out onto the porch. I decided not to follow him.

Later, when all of Rosa's grandchildren and their spouses had arrived and gathered at the foot of the grand staircase, I noticed a somber-looking Ricardo standing near the back of the small crowd. I knew he wouldn't be staying for the small reception afterward, so I wouldn't have another opportunity to speak with him until Rosa and I returned from our honeymoon. Still, I resented his dour demeanor. Deciding not to dwell on his negativity, I focused instead on the wondrous vision my lovely bride made as she descended the staircase when it was time for the ceremony. The joy on Rosa's face was satisfaction enough and, I'm not ashamed to say, I didn't think about Ricardo and his bad attitude for the rest of the night.

Ricardo's POV

¡Dios mio! Today I am a broken man and no one cares about my feelings – not my wife, not my children and certainly not my mother or that man she is marrying. All week long before the ceremony, Teresa, Celia and Pilar admonished me to behave at the wedding. Alejandro kept giving me looks of concern, but I could tell the concern was not for me. He feared I would do something to embarrass his mother or grandmother. I wanted to shake all of them out of their enchantment. It is obvious they all have fallen under some nefarious spell to think for even a minute that this marriage between my mother and Mr. Books is a good thing.

At least, that is what I thought before I saw the incredible photographic portraits of my mother, which were hanging in the foyer of Mr. Books' palatial home. After I took Teresa to the incredibly lavish house for her to complete her duties as Matron of Honor to my mother, the annoying man invited me into his library for a little discussion. He told me about his family's humble origins and the many times the men in his family turned away from their father's traditions. I suppose he was trying to make a point, but I was not impressed. Honestly, I am grateful he has been successful enough to be able to offer employment to Estefania, but I do not see how a man who makes a living designing women's underwear can have any pride at all.

When I told Mr. Books I was not pleased with the scandalous photographs his company had taken of my mother, he escorted me back to the foyer and proudly showed me four black and white portraits of my mother I had never seen before. The first two of the black-framed photos were very nice. In the first frame, Mama was posing against a white background, wearing her hair up in the way that was most familiar to me. Her classical elegance was quite evident. The next photo had a black background and Mama's hair was flowing free, away from her face. Her pose was shockingly glamorous, as it was in her infamous Babe! poster, but this photo showed her beauty in a way that anyone could appreciate.

The other two photos made my blood run cold with shock and then hot with fury. In the third frame, my mother was wearing a man's black hat and what looked like a man's white dress shirt. She looked happy and playful and … flirtatious. It was beyond scandalous! But the final photo proved to me what I did not want to admit – my Mama was in love with the man behind the camera lens and he obviously loved her in return. She was holding a very familiar strand of pearls next to her face – pearls my own dear Papa had given to her a long time ago. Her pose reminded me of the portrait of Mama in her fur coat, but with one very important difference. In the old photo in the scrapbook I had seen so recently, Mama's face looked regal, elegant and serene. But her face in this current portrait was the face of a well-loved woman. That realization actually took my breath away – like a punch to the solar plexus.

Suddenly, I had to escape to the front porch. I needed to feel the cold fresh air against my face and catch my breath before the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes embarrassed me. There was no way I was going to disgrace myself in front of Mr. Books! I am not naïve. Anyone who saw those photographs on the wall would know the full extent of my mother's relationship with her … her lover. Oh, Dios mio! How could Mama betray Papa so completely? How could she betray me? It felt as though my life, my family, my world was crumbling before my eyes and I wanted to howl with frustration. Unfortunately, that was when my children began to arrive.

When I accompanied my children and their spouses back inside, the musical ensemble was playing a very soothing classical piece and chairs were set up in the foyer for everyone to sit down after an attendant took their coats and wraps. As soon as we all were in our places, the ceremony began. It took every shred of self-control I possessed to not disrupt the union of my Mama and Mr. Books. In fact, Father Brady never even asked the traditional question about anyone objecting to the union of the couple. Everything went so quickly; before I knew it, the priest was introducing the new Mr. and Mrs. Dawson Horatio Books.

Fortunately, I did not have to stay for the dinner reception, because I had to go to work. Saturday is usually busy and Valentine's Day is one of our busiest days of the year. The reservations book was completely filled and I knew I needed to be back at Rosa's before the dinner rush began. Unfortunately, I could not leave until I congratulated the newly-married couple. The last thing I wanted to do was to go through the receiving line with my children. Memories of Teresa and Father Brady's threats and admonishments were the only things that kept me in line. In order to appease my wife and my priest, I graciously hugged my mother and shook the hand of her new husband before I made my hasty exit. I had more important things to do.

My mind was numb as I drove back into Newark. It was gratifying to enter Rosa's and see the cooks and wait staff carrying out their duties as expected. I was fine until I came face-to-face with the iconic portrait of my mother, which hung in the foyer of the restaurant. Hot tears stung my eyes and my throat felt tight. I could not get the images of Mr. Books' photo portraits of my mother out of my head, especially the one in which she was holding the strand of pearls next to her face and she looked so… satisfied. Ugh! There was no doubt the man truly cared for Mama and she obviously thought she loved him in return, but I did not think their hasty marriage would last. Alas, there was nothing I could do about it – for now.

Teresa's POV

"How are you today, Mama Rosa? Are you nervous? What do you need me to do for you?" I asked my mother-in-law when I entered her dressing room to assist her before the wedding ceremony.

She laughed and shook her head at me. "Slow down, querida, and take a deep breath. I am fine, really. Wonderful, in fact. No, I am not nervous. Excited, yes – nervous, no. And all I need for you to do is be here and support me at this happy time."

I let out my breath in a whoosh and chuckled. "I guess I'm nervous enough for both of us."

"Is Ricardo here?" she asked. Her eyes met mine in the mirror as she placed her sparkly diamond-and-pearl earrings into each earlobe. Her hair was perfectly coiffed in a flattering style and she already had on her fuchsia pink jacket/blouse and long black skirt. There truly wasn't much I could do for her.

"Yes, he's here," I replied. "At least in body, if not in spirit. I think Ricardo believes if he ignores the events of today, he can fantasize this never happened. And he still plans to leave immediately after the ceremony, even though I begged him to reconsider. God forbid that either Ricardo or Alex be absent from Rosa's on Valentine's Day. You know how your son feels about being away from the restaurant on special nights such as this. I just wish he could see the romance unfolding in front of his face and accept how happy you and your novio are together."

Her smile was wistful as she said, "I do, too, mija. But these things take time. We must keep Ricardo in our prayers."

I nodded. "Prayer definitely works. The proof is evident in the way Ricardo has changed so much at home. It's incredible, but Ricardo is still very helpful around the house on his days off and with the grandchildren when they come over. He's attentive to my needs and I rarely have to remind him of the way I like things to be done. I've never been treated so well in all the years of our marriage."

"That is very good," she said and her smile was bright this time. "The changes were long overdue and I am glad you are happy together again. I hold on to the hope that my son will extend his mercy and his blessings to Dawson and me someday."

Before I knew it, it was time for me to descend the grand staircase down to the foyer to begin the ceremony. I noticed the smiles on the faces of all my family, as well as Stephanie and Dawson and his other guests. Everyone seemed to be so happy for the bride and groom, except my grumpy husband. His face was a stony mask and I wanted to shake him out of his stubbornness. Instead, I only smiled wider to make up for Ricardo's scowl, especially when Rosa descended the stairs.

After the brief, but poignant wedding ceremony, Dawson and Rosa – the new Mr. and Mrs. Books – greeted everyone with hugs and kisses as they passed through the short receiving line. Naturally, Ricardo was the last person to offer his congratulations and he barely accomplished that. I was so disappointed in his attitude.

"Oh, Mama Rosa, I'm sorry Ricardo is leaving so abruptly," I whispered as I watched my husband disappear out through the front door of Dawson Books' magnificent home.

She patted my hand and softly replied, "It is all right, mija. I feel fortunate we were able to get through the entire ceremony without my son throwing a royal fit. We both know it was a close thing."

I could only shake my head in disappointment. "I had hoped … well, you know. It would have been nice if he could have accepted your union and stayed here to celebrate with the rest of us."

"That was not going to happen today, Teresa, and you should know better than to push for progress too quickly." Rosa fixed me with a knowing stare before she and Dawson led us all into their enormous dining room.

Of course, I knew she was right, but a woman could hope, couldn't she?

Stephanie's POV

Today was one of the best days of my life! My friend and business partner, Dawson Books, married my future grandmother-in-law, Rosa Mañoso, in one of the simplest, yet most lovely ceremonies I've ever witnessed. It was such an amazing contrast to my friend Stella's wedding. Of course, Stella not only had to contend with melding together her Jewish traditions and her new husband's Catholic traditions, but she also had to deal with several sets of upset relatives. Rosa and Dawson share the same simple faith and there was only one upset relative – Ricardo.

I feel so sad for Ricardo. It's as though he absolutely refuses to see how happy Dawson and Rosa are when they're together. They make a wonderful couple and Ricardo is really missing out on a great relationship. If he'd just give Dawson more than a brief moment of his time, I'm sure he would like him very much. Unfortunately, Carlos' stubborn father still has a long way to go to rid himself of his sinful pride. I was sort of glad, though, when Ricardo departed from Dawson and Rosa's house without making a big, ugly scene. I can only hope to achieve the same miracle with my mother by the time my own wedding happens.

The reception was fabulous, with food to die for. Alex is so talented with all kinds of food! And I told him so, too. It was fun to watch him blush. Teresa and I made the traditional celebratory toasts, and I almost felt silly as she translated my words for Rosa. I had to focus on the happy groom, because I knew I would burst out laughing if I made eye contact with the supposedly-non-English-speaking bride. After we all had stuffed ourselves with wedding cake, the dancing began. It was such a blast! The only way it could have been more perfect was if Carlos had been able to be there.

"How are you holding up?" Mateo asked me while we danced to a lively salsa tune.

"Fine," I lied as I tried to keep up with his fancy footwork. Mateo was almost as good a dancer as Carlos.

"You're lying," he declared as he twirled me behind him.

"How can you tell?" I asked when he brought me back around to his front before twirling me outward again.

Mateo laughed and said, "It is Valentine's Day and I know you're missing your man, especially after I dropped off his gifts at your place this morning. Also, I noticed you've already attached the heart and key charms to your bracelet."

My free hand automatically rubbed over my charm bracelet and I allowed my thoughts to drift back to that morning. I had barely finished my first cup of coffee when the florist delivered one dozen pretty vases and each vase contained twelve perfect red roses. As soon as I found a place for each bunch of roses, the bakery delivered a decadent heart-shaped chocolate cheesecake. I had a piece of it for breakfast. Cheese has calcium and protein, which are good for me, right? Blackie shamelessly begged for some of my cake, but I explained to him that he couldn't have any chocolate. I tried to appease him by taking him on a long walk, and when we returned, Mateo was waiting for us.

"All I can say is Carlos puts the rest of us men to shame," Mateo admitted when he placed the packages on the coffee table in my living room and he saw all of the roses. "Now I'll have to go out and buy more flowers for Lucia. And this is after I've already given her a diamond pendant necklace and matching earrings."

"Do you think she'd like a piece of this awesome cake?" I gestured to the kitchen counter where the incredible dessert sat there, tempting me again.

Mateo chuckled. "Oh yeah, that would go over like a lead balloon. You know very well I can't bring home a part of some other woman's gift. Lucia would kick my ass."

"Sorry," I shrugged sheepishly. "You're right. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Besides," he continued, "I'm sure we're going to have plenty of wedding cake this afternoon at Abuela Rosa's wedding."

I clapped my hands over my mouth and then exclaimed, "Omigod! I totally forgot about the wedding cake. I guess I should try to resist having any more of my cake for the rest of the day."

"Good luck with that." Mateo looked at me skeptically. "Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you later." And then he left me alone to open my Valentine's Day gifts.

My thoughts returned to the wedding reception when the song ended and Mateo escorted me back to his table, where Lucia was waiting for us.

I smiled at her and said, "Thank you for letting me borrow your husband for a spin around the dance floor."

"You're more than welcome, Stephanie," Lucia returned my smile. "But I do require a certain payment for the favor." Then she leaned in close to my ear and said, "You have to show me what your man gave you for Valentine's Day. I know Mateo made another special delivery this morning."

"Oh, that's easy," I grinned and held out my arm so she could examine the newest additions to my charm bracelet. Her long fingers brushed over the inscription on the gold heart charm.

"Te amo, siempre y para siempre," she read aloud, her voice barely a whisper. "I love you, always and forever. That is so beautiful!"

"Yes, it is," I agreed.

Lucia's eyes were damp when she looked into my eyes. "And let me guess, this key goes with it as the key to his heart, right?" she asked.

I nodded and tried to stop my own tears.

At that moment, Dawson appeared at my side and asked for the next dance, which was a tango. Lucia happily waved me away. Then she and Mateo joined us on the dance floor; Rosa was already in Alex's capable arms. Dawson was an expert dancer. All I had to do was follow his lead and I knew we would look almost as good as professional dancers.

"Are you having fun, Stephanie?" my partner asked me without missing a step.

"Absolutely!" I answered, trying not to break my concentration. "Why do you ask?"

"Rosa thought she noticed a troubled look on your face a moment ago, so she sent me over to check on you," he admitted rather sheepishly.

"Oh, that," I shrugged. "I was just showing off my charm bracelet to Mateo's wife and, naturally, my thoughts went directly to the giver of all my best gifts." We always had to be careful not to mention Carlos' name whenever his sisters were nearby.

"Ah, that explains the almost-tears," Dawson nodded.

I peeked around Dawson's shoulder and saw Rosa raise an eyebrow at me. I smiled back at her reassuringly before Alex spun her in a different direction. Sometimes, it was good to know there were so many "guardian angels" around me. I'm not sure how my life would be right now if I didn't have Dawson and Rosa, as well as Mateo and Carlos' friends, looking out for my welfare.

"So … Dawson, have you told Rosa where you're taking her on your honeymoon?" I asked after he twirled me close to his side and dipped me playfully.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I have," he replied, his eyes twinkling with pleasure. "I whispered it to her right before we shared our first bite of the wedding cake."

"Ah," I nodded as he returned us to an upright dancing position. "That explains the look of total surprise on her face when you fed the cake to her."

He chuckled and said, "I informed my lovely wife that she is now my personal goddess, and as such, I owe it to her to take her to a private Greek island where I may worship her properly for the next two weeks."

"Whoa! That's so romantic – and hot!" I exclaimed. "I'm impressed, Dawson, really. And maybe even a little jealous."

Dawson patted my shoulder reassuringly. "Your turn will come, Stephanie. And I'm fairly certain you and your young man will be able to generate more romance and heat than all of the couples in this room combined."

I blushed as I remembered the way Carlos and I had spent most of our time together so far. And knowing what I knew about my Superman's supernatural abilities in bed and everywhere else, I had to agree with Dawson.

Still, here it was – Valentine's Day – and I was not with my lover. Oh, Carlos! This is so unfair! We should be wrapped up in each other's arms, instead of thousands of miles apart. I miss you so much! A wave of loneliness washed over me and I fought hard to maintain my composure. After the song ended and we returned to our table, Rosa returned to Dawson's side and he gave her a long, sensuous kiss. When I looked away, I saw Lucia snuggling against Mateo's chest and my heart ached with another twinge of jealousy. I sighed. Only 416 more days until I could have what they have, too.

Carlos's POV

I had a very interesting day today. Back in my real world, it was Valentine's Day. I smiled when I thought about the dozens of roses my Babe would receive, as well as another Dipaolo Bros. dessert. Also, Mateo would deliver another charm and letter to Stephanie. God, I wished I could be with her tonight, especially when she read my letter. I cleared my mind until I was able to remember every word of it.

My dearest Babe,

Happy Valentine's Day! Today is a special day for lovers all over the world and I envy everyone out there who's able to be together with the one they love the most. My arms ache to hold you close and never let you go. If I was with you right now, I would take you in my arms and dance with you to our special song. Remember these specific words, Querida, because they will help bond us together always:

I don't want any night to go by

Without you by my side

I just want all my days

Spent being next to you

Lived for just loving you

And baby, oh by the way

Could I hold you for a lifetime?

Could I look into your eyes?

Could I have this night to share this night together?

Could I hold you close beside me?

Could I hold you for all time?

Could I could I have this kiss forever?

Could I could I have this kiss forever, forever?

If I could have my way, our forever would have begun already. You know you hold the key to my heart. In fact, you hold my entire heart. I want the special charms Mateo delivered to you today to remind you that everything I possess and everything I am belongs to you, Babe – now and forever.

As always, I am counting the days until we can begin our new life together.

Te amo, Stephanie, siempre y para siempre,

Carlos

In my mind, I still could hear Whitney Houston and Enrique Iglesias singing the hauntingly beautiful words of "Can I Have This Dance Forever?" and I had to fight against feeling sorry for myself. This was no time to get all soft and mushy, but as soon I pushed my thoughts about my Babe back into the deeper recesses of my consciousness, I began to think about my Abuela Rosa. Honestly, Valentine's Day is not a time when most men have thoughts about their grandmothers. I could only hope and pray that everything was okay with her. Time would tell. I rolled over and willed my subconscious to bring me good dreams of Stephanie.

TBC