A/N: Once again, a few minor details were changed, but nothing major.

Chapter 3: Eavesdropping

Not too far away a man stepped out of a cheap motel, the only one that he had been able to afford after his long trip, with a newspaper in hand- the classified section- and went in search of a job. He had arrived in Miami only yesterday and needed to get a job quickly so that he could a) support himself, and b) send for the rest of his family. The first company listed was an auto shop that needed experienced mechanics. Although his experience was pretty much limited to working on stolen cars back in his own country, he thought he'd give it a try anyway. Plus the receptionist in the motel said it wasn't too far, so it would definitely be convenient.

He walked in A.J.'s Auto Service and found a rather tall, muscular man in a blue jump suit covered in oil at the counter. A patch on the upper left side of his suit revealed that he was, in fact, A.J.

"Excuse me, senor? My name is Javier Suarez. I'm here about the job?"

Javier took a seat in a local diner and sighed in frustration as he crossed out the last place on the list. He had spent the entire day looking for a job, and so far had ended up with nothing. Tired and worried, he ordered a cup of coffee and let his mind wander. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Everyone thought that when Castro took over, things would get better. He believed it so deeply, and so had Carlos. Their father had died because he believed it. So they stayed in Cuba longer than they should have. They waited for it to get better, and they hoped. At first things did get better, but then it became clear that they had delivered their country into the hands of a dictator. The stress took its toll on them all, especially his abuelo, his grandfather. Finally, he passed away last year, in part due to his age but also because of stress. His death awoke them all to the fact that they needed to get away, and so it was decided. Javier would go first to America, and once he was settled in and had enough money he would send for Carlos, Rafael, and their mother. They were depending on him. And yet all he had been able to think about was her. The knowledge that he was in her country, on the same continent as her never left his mind. The possibilities plagued him. But so did the doubts. Did she find a new love? Did she forget him? Does she still dance? Though ten years had passed since he last saw her, he kept his word. He kept her with him, always. He never forgot. He wondered where she was right now, and what she was doing. But before he could go further, the sound of her name ripped him from his thoughts.

"Katey Miller" Javier whirled around to find a group of teenagers sitting in a booth behind him, all of them talking excitedly to a younger boy in the corner.

"I'm telling you, she's amazing. I've been a student of hers since her studio opened six years ago. She's an expert," exclaimed a tall brunette sitting across from the younger boy. The others nodded their heads in agreement.

"Listen to Julie, she's Katey's best student." The brunette, Julie supposedly, blushed in response.

"I always figured though that someone so good at Cuban dance would actually be from Cuba," responded the young boy doubtfully. Julie immediately countered.

"See Bobby, that's just it. She's not from Cuba, but word is that she lived there for a time when she was younger, before Castro took over. No one knows exactly what happened because she won't talk about it, not even to me, but supposedly she met some guy there who taught her how to dance and they fell in love. Her family was forced to leave when Castro took over and she never saw him again." Javier's mind whirled with even more questions and possibilities as he heard the teenagers talking. Is it really his Katey? His Queen of La Rosa Negra? And was she really a dance instructor? Of Afro-Cuban dance no less? If so, then maybe she hadn't forgotten him after all.

"Excuse me senora, do you know where I can find a dance instructor by the name of Katey Miller?" He stopped the waitress; a kind elderly lady named Ruthie, and asked her.

"Why yes, as a matter of fact. She comes in here a lot, as do her students." With this last statement, she pointed to the group behind Javier.

"In fact, she was in here earlier today and she told me she was looking for another dancer to help teach her classes, were you going to go apply for the job?" Javier nodded eagerly. This day was starting to look good after all. He'd love nothing more than for her to be in his arms again.

"Well in that case, she owns a dance studio a couple blocks from here called La Reina Rosa. Go out and take a left. It's not far, and you can't miss it. Good luck to you."

"Thank you, senora." He quickly replied before dashing out of the door and down the street.