Chapter Two

Ana

Right after being released from prison, Ana went straight to the convent in Havana which also doubled as an orphan asylum, and was hired on the spot to perform the tasks of an errand girl. Some days she helped cook or sweep the floors, most days, she ran errands which included picking up groceries.

"La Llorona has quite an appetite today."

"Oh, yes! she cleaned her plate!"

"Knock it off! Please don't call her that. She has a name now." Ana said to a group of young nuns-in-training one lazy afternoon. They were hanging out together in the kitchen drinking coffee and tea and feeding a small group of children. Ana had named the baby Liliana. She cooed her name softly, and the thirteen-month-old baby turned at the sound of her voice. Ana then lifted her from her highchair and hoisted her onto her hip, kissing her forehead. While the adults talked, Liliana was content to play with Ana' s cheaply- colored pink necklace.

Liliana had been dropped off at the convent two months ago by a relative who refused to give any information about her birth family. The baby girl arrived malnourished and inconsolable, and the nuns all took turns soothing her with varying degrees of success. The child cried so much that she'd been nicknamed La Llorona, after the haunting legend of The Weeping Woman. It didn't even make any sense, Ana thought. According to the legend, there was a ghost woman who hovered above a river, trying to seduce people to their deaths with her pitiful cries. The tale was a spooky bedtime story told to children to make them behave. Ana thought it was the wrong kind of story to induce good behavior. If anything, the legend only taught her to avoid bathing alone in rivers and lakes.

The tiny girl had milk chocolate skin, big brown eyes, and long delicate eyelashes. She took an instant liking to Ana. It was love at first sight, and from that day forward she rarely cried. The only downside was that Ana usually had to carry her everywhere she went or else risk upsetting her.

"You're spoiling that child," said Mother Superior-the head nun, an austere-looking woman in her early sixties. Ana ignored her; her gut feeling told her the tiny girl needed love more than anything.

…...

Like most mornings, Ana took her place in line in front of the grocery store with a coupon book that allowed her to buy a certain number of cases of milk for the convent. The long line stretched all the way to the end of the block. On the opposite side of the street. A group of boys clad in shirts either too small or too big for them squatted on the ground shooting marbles. Behind them stood an eight-story concrete building. From the patio railings, white plastic shopping bags, rinsed and hung up to dry, fluttered in the air like ghosts.

Ana struck up a conversation with the woman in line behind her, a tanned woman with orange lipstick who claimed to be an elementary school teacher.

"Hey, everybody, this lady right here is a teacher," Ana said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "She's gotta get to the front of the line! She only has a few minutes to make it to class."

The people at the front of the line gave them a blank look.

"C'mon...somebody? Please?"

"What do you care?" Someone behind her shouted, addressing Ana. "We all have to wait our turn. We were all equal here."

"You know what time we got here? We've been here since 5:00 A.M, if she wanted to get to class on time, she should have arrived here earlier," a man shouted. He was second in line.

"Well, thanks so much everybody for caring for our children's education!" Ana retorted sarcastically. "Right now, 40 kids waiting for their teacher to arrive. By the time she actually gets there, more than half would have gone home tired of waiting for her."

"Well, she should just leave and come back AFTER school."

"What do you care?" Another person, a woman in her fifties shouted. "Why don't you just mind your own darn business?"

"Hey, you know what...I'm just trying to make the world a better place, a better place for our children to grow up in. Do you have kids? Grandkids?"

The older woman just glared at Ana in response.

"I have kids," said a young woman at the front of the line. "Come to the front," she said looking at the teacher. "You can go ahead of me."

A handful of people in line grumbled and gave her hard cold stares. "Hey, the fair thing would be for you two to trade places instead," somebody said.

"Yeah, you should just take her place instead of letting her go in front of you."

"You know what I wish?" The younger woman retorted. "I wish my kids could grow up in a world where they don't have to spend two hours in line just to get groceries." She added as the teacher moved to the front of the line. "Thank you for your service; I'm sure you don't get enough recognition, yours is a hard job," she said to the teacher who smiled in response.

The teacher earned a good number of hard cold stares when she moved to the front of the line, but soon enough everyone went back to wearing their regular I'm-just-standing-in- line blank expressions. Ana went back to paying attention to Liliana who started getting a little fussy, rubbing her eyes. It was time for her nap, so Ana took off the baby carrier so that she could nap with her head on Ana's shoulder. Her nap, however, was short-lived.

Fifteen minutes later, a car went by, a decrepit looking Volvo with one broken headlight and a smoking exhaust. The driver drove by slowly; Ana recognized the driver at once. It was her friend Manuel; she hadn't seen him since back in sixth grade when she got transferred to a different school.

"Ana? Long time no see!" Manuel—dark hair, tanned skinned and somewhat attractive- parked his vehicle a few feet from where Ana stood. The young man stepped out of the car, smiling. But his smile faded the minute he got closer, and his gaze fell on Liliana. "You got married?"

"Oh, no. I'm not married. She's not mine. She's an orphan at the convent I work at." She said kissing the top of the baby's head. "She's really attached to me, so I take her everywhere I go. How have you been?"

"Pretty good. I'm between jobs right now but my friends and I, we're musicians, you know, we play at the nightclub once or twice a week." Manuel said. Ana nodded. "Hey, are you busy later, beautiful? We could go dancing?"

"I don't know," Ana replied noncommittally. Her days were so filled with activity that she usually crashed in the evenings when she got home. She tried explaining this to Manuel. From the looks of it, she was going to be standing in line for the next couple of hours. Every day, she needed to get up at the crack of dawn to get milk for the twenty orphans at the convent.

"My folks have farm animals out in the barn including cows. Why don't you come home with me? I can get you a couple of cases of milk. All you have to do is help me milk the cows."

Ana was pleasantly surprised. "Really?" His offer seemed like an answer to her prayer. If she stayed in line not only would she be here for another couple of hours and what's worse, there was a real possibility that once she got to the front of the line, there would be a shortage of milk. Actually, if she was honest with herself, it was quite likely that would be the case. Whenever she failed to arrive early - before 6 am that is, the more likely she wouldn't get the items on her list. And today, she was an hour late arriving at the store. "Okay, that would be great," Ana smiled gratefully.

Manuel lit a cigarette almost as soon as he got behind the wheel, and waited for Ana to climb onto the passenger side to offer her one but she shook her head no. She'd never picked up the habit. He tapped his aches out the window and drove off with the windows rolled down. Ana sat with Liliana on her lap and pointed at the road and the billboards, her hair fluttering in the wind. The billboards weren't advertisements; they were political messages about Castro, Che Guevara, and the socialist revolution. The paper was peeling, and rust ran down the signs where they'd been nailed to the posts.

Once they got to Manuel's farmhouse, about 45 miles away from Havana, Manuel introduced her to his mother who had been working in the kitchen. She offered Ana a bowl of soup and a cup of milk for Liliana and Ana accepted. The last couple of months have been hard for Ana-she'd lost her government job-and food had been scarce. Even though working at the convent earned three meals a day, she often ended up sharing her plate with the children at the orphanage.

"Thank you so much," Ana said to the kind woman. "The soup was absolutely delicious."

Manuel's mother smiled and tried taking Liliana into her arms, but her little fists clung onto Ana's shirt like a frightened kitten. The woman had to pry the baby's fingers off forcibly. Ana's heart broke to hear her wails of protest, but she really couldn't milk the cows with the baby clinging onto her, could she?

After milking the cows out in the barn, Ana followed Manuel back to the house which was modestly furnished. Together, they went into the kitchen and poured the milk into glass containers. After that, Ana went into the bathroom. She washed her face and combed her hair with a comb she carried in her jean pocket and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. The wind had really messed up her hair, but once she pulled it back, she felt so much better. Still, she sighed at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn't happy. She saw someone in need of nicer clothing and a little makeup to feel attractive.

"Where's your mama?" She asked Manuel.

"She's putting the baby to sleep," he replied. He then asked her to sit with him on the couch in the living room for a little while and rest.

"I probably should get going," Ana said. "Mother Superior must be wondering where I am."

"I will drive you back. Just sit with me for a little bit," Manuel insisted, and she reluctantly sat beside him. Something about the way he was looking at her now was creeping her out, but she couldn't just take off and leave. She was miles from home or the convent, and she didn't even have her bike with her. Never mind that, even if she had the bike, she couldn't take the baby with her.

"My, you look pretty." He murmured, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa and leaning closer. He sent a smile her way and followed that with a kiss to her cheek.

Ana blinked. She didn't think she looked particularly beautiful today. She was dressed plainly in a pair of jeans, a pink top with bleach stains and a pair of flats that had seen better days. Never mind that, she had to let Manuel know that even though she'd had a crush on him back in sixth grade, her feelings had changed.

"No, thanks, I'm not getting myself knocked up today." She said matter-of-factly, moving away from him. "You're destined for a better life," her father often said to her in his letters or whenever they spoke over the phone.

Manuel was shocked at her directness. Every girl he'd ever known had tap-danced around the subject of sex. After a moment, however, he recovered and said, "Who are you saving yourself for? You still believe in knights in shining armor?"

Ana was saving herself for that special someone who she intended to spend the rest of her life with, yet she said nothing to Manuel. He would probably just laugh at her.

...

Later

Just like he promised, Manuel dropped her off at the doors of the convent and even helped her carry the crates of milk to the kitchen while she went to put Liliana in her crib. He then promptly vanished without so much of a goodbye and Ana had the feeling she would not see the likes of him again now that she'd turned down his advances. Oh, well. She really didn't have time to dwell on that, she realized, she was late for mass. Daily attendance was one of the stipulations that Mother Superior had imposed when Ana came knocking on their door looking for work.

Mother Superior chastised her as soon as Ana slid into the pew beside her (earlier she had spotted Manuel dropping her off). "A modest young lady of honor never rides alone with a man without a proper chaperon. She must always worry about tarnishing her reputation." She whispered, slowly enunciating each word staccato so that each made good its full value.

"Sorry I'm late... I went to a farm and milked some cows." Ana said loud enough for everyone to hear. "And now we have fresh milk for the children for three whole days," she added proudly. All heads, including the priest, turned back to stare and Ana hid a smile. While she was grateful for the help the nuns provided her in her time of need, she was not going to take bad treatment from anyone, not even the nuns. Nobody had the right to speak to her like that, not even Mother Superior.

"Oh...and regarding my reputation...don't worry, Mother Superior, I had my birth control with me," Ana spoke again, her voice loud enough for everyone-the nuns and the priest - to hear.

This time, as soon as Ana said the words: Birth control, all the nuns gasped and stared-eyes as wide as saucers. And the priest developed a sudden cough attack so severe he loosened his collar and furiously fanned himself in distress. Ana figured the words 'birth control' were quite literally a cardinal sin.

"Senorita Steele!" Mother Superior rebuked, looking at her over the rim of her thick glasses with disdain. "Let me remind you-you're in a sacred place."

"I had Liliana with me the entire time I was with Manuel," Ana explained without missing a beat. "She's the best birth control there is, seriously. She sticks to me like glue."

Ana had delivered the punch with just the right amount of casual off-handedness necessary to make a few of the nuns cover their mouths to hide their laughter.

…..

Later, after mass, Mother Superior pulled Ana aside to get back at her big time. "If Comandante Sanchez ever inquires about your role here at our convent, I would have no choice but, to tell the truth, you understand that, don't you?" She paused. Ana opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. "All I'm saying is that I cannot lie under any circumstances," she went on matter-of-factly. "I will have to tell him you're just our errand girl."

Luckily for Ana, Sanchez had not stopped by the convent to talk to Mother Superior about her. Interestingly, Ana had caught him watching her coming in and out of the convent on more than one occasion when he was supposedly on his way to church. Maybe because Ana had waved back when he'd looked in her direction as though she had nothing to hide.

…...

Later

Ana arrived home late that night. As always, her Mami, as she affectionately called her grandmother, stayed up waiting for her sitting on the couch in front of their small black and white TV set with rabbit ears. She'd been caught up watching a popular soap opera.

"Here, Mami." Ana put down on the kitchen table a plastic bag that contained a plate of beans and rice. "Did you eat already?"

"Yes, Mija. Did you have supper already?"

"Yes," Ana lied. The truth was that she'd been too busy to eat (she always went the extra mile and helped with the children at the orphanage). Usually, by the time she had a chance to grab a bite to eat, she wasn't even hungry. With a sigh, she put the plate in the fridge for tomorrow.

"You're skin and bones, Mija," Mami said worriedly. But then, her face brightened a little with excitement. She was about to share the best news ever. "Guess what? He's coming in three days."

"Who? Who's coming?"

"Your papa! Yes, your papa called. He's sending a man, a private detective I think, like Magnum P.I," she said with a small wink, "to take you to the United States of America."

...

Christian

"It's a long story," Ray began.

"I just need the relevant points, if you don't mind," Christian said. "By the way, do you have a picture of Ana?"

Raymond leaned back in his chair and picked up the only framed picture on his desk and turned it around for Christian to see. The black and white photo was a vintage Polaroid of ten-year-old Ana smiling at the camera with a tabby cat in her arms. She cradled the cat like a baby, stomach up, the expression on her face so tender it struck right at his heart.

"I met Ana's mother, Carla in high school." Raymond went on while Christian continued to study the photograph.

"Do you have a more current picture of Ana?"

"I'm afraid not."

Christian shook his head in disbelief. How was that possible?

"Carla and I met at a high school dance. She was fifteen, and I was seventeen," Raymond continued without missing a beat. "She wore a gorgeous strapless satin gown, and we had one dance. That was all it took, one dance. We look into each other's eyes, and it was love at first sight," he went on with a faraway look, making his storytelling even more romantic than he originally intended.

"Her parents were Cubans, strict, old school. They didn't want her dating, but Carla always managed to sneak out of the house when her parents were sleeping. Of course, the inevitable happened. Her parents went ballistic when they found out their daughter was pregnant. Long story short, they took her back to Cuba, and I never saw her again."

Christian raised both brows. "Seems rather drastic."

Raymond nodded slightly. "Ana was born in Havana six months later, but I had no idea she existed. Carla's parents prevented her from getting in touch with me."

"So Ana is a Cuban citizen?"

"No. No. Even though Ana was born in Cuba, she has dual nationality. When I was in Cuba, I filed all the paperwork for her to bear my last name. Not an easy task, as she was born out of wedlock. Still, Ana has all the rights and privileges of an American citizen. She was born to American parents." Ray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Anyway, I didn't even know Ana existed until she was six or seven years old. Carla sent me a letter and a couple of pictures. We corresponded for a while, Carla went back and forth on wanting to return to the US. Anyway, back then, there was no American embassy in Cuba, and the embargo's restrictions made traveling to Cuba almost impossible. And then I learned that Carla was getting married. I took a flight to Cancun and then to Havana. I was still in love with her, and I was hoping to be able to stop her from marrying this guy, an army general I believe. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, she was already married."

"Sorry to hear that...but at least you got to meet Ana?"

"Yes. Not only that, but Ana and I bonded in the six months I lived in Cuba. Naturally, I wanted to bring her home with me, but at the same time, I didn't want to take her away from her mother. I left with a heavy heart. Ana was in tears when I left. She told me she was coming to live with me one day and I promised I would make it happen. Fate had other plans. Carla passed away later that same year after giving birth to a baby who did not survive either."

What an ill-fated love story, Christian thought. It must have been terrible for Ana to lose her mother at such a young age.

"I hired an international lawyer to sue for custody. My custody appeal got denied on the basis that I had no proof I was Ana's biological parent, even though I had Carla's letters and she had also signed an affidavit while I was in Cuba stating I was Ana's father and she could bear my last name. Can you believe the courts stated that a marriage certificate was the proof of paternity they could accept?" He shook his head, and his voice rose in anger. " I also wrote an open letter to Castro asking him to allow Ana to travel outside the country and the press picked up the story, it got some international attention, but the case dragged with no good results. Years went by, and my little girl was growing up without me. Although we stayed in touch, we talked on the phone, and I sent her letters and books and gifts whenever possible, and I tried my best to remain an important part of my her life. It hasn't been easy. Over the years, I've had virtually no communication with Gladys, Ana's maternal grandmother. A couple of months ago, the woman finally sent me a letter after so many years of hating me for getting her daughter pregnant. She was worried about Ana. A few of her friends were leaving the island on flimsy tugboats, and she was worried Ana would end up going down the same path. The letter didn't arrive in time to stop her."

"Surely Ana has a good head on her shoulders; she should know better than that." He paused to consider what Raymond Steele had mentioned earlier. "You said she was helping some friends leave the island...but did she stay behind in Cuba or did she leave with them?"

"Yes, she was also on the raft. Of course, she didn't mention that to me beforehand, or I would have talked her out of it. The raft's makeshift motor broke down, and they were adrift for days. Can you imagine? She could have died!" Raymond went on, mortified. "I guess that her counter-revolutionary friends talked her into this. She tells me she's not really into politics," he shrugged. "But I really don't know exactly what she's been up to. Anyhow, we wouldn't be having this conversation if the Cuban government would have returned my daughter to me, as her only living parent, I SHOULD have been granted custody of Ana. Instead, the Cuban government put me on their blacklist because of the open letter I wrote denouncing their regime and won't grant me a visa. They claim that since Ana was born in Cuba, she's a Cuban citizen, but in reality, she has dual nationality.

Christian raised a brow. "It sounds like Ana is a prisoner of Cuba."

Raymond nodded. "My sentiments exactly. And the question is, what are we going to do about it? She's now legally an adult and can legally choose the United States as her country of residence, at least according to our immigration laws. The Cuban government is the holdup." He paused, giving Christian a chance to switch gears. "I'm telling you, right now, I want you to move heaven and earth to get my daughter into this country. This country is where she belongs. She was born to American parents, and that makes her an American. I want you to do whatever it takes; money is no object. You will have all the money and the resources at your disposal...we need to work together on this and keep the lines of communication open and play it by ear. Unfortunately, it won't be easy. For one, there is virtually no broadband internet access in Cuba. Mobile communication is limited to voice and texting applications. There are centers of public internet access where there is a fee to log onto the internet, but even so, most access is through government-controlled Intranet and a national e-mail system."

"Sounds like they're living in the dark ages, " Christian mumbled.

"Yes, it certainly reminds me of the early days of the internet when we had dial-up access."

Christian cringed inwardly. He couldn't imagine living his life without 24 access to the modern convenience of the internet. Furthermore, being always connected was such a huge part of his lifestyle that losing that connection would be the equivalent of finding himself suddenly adrift at sea without food or water. And yet, there were people out there like Ana who lived their entire lives without it. It was mind-boggling!

But there was no turning back; in his mind, he'd already decided he was getting Anastasia Steele out of Cuba come hell or high water.

"So are you up for the job?" Raymond studied Christian closely, giving him one more chance to back out it seemed. "A few months ago," Raymond went on without giving him a chance to respond to his question. "As soon as Ana turned eighteen, I hired a veteran to get Ana out of Cuba, but he failed miserably at navigating through miles of red tape on both sides of the water. In the end, Ana got her US passport confiscated by the customs agents. Your job would be to get Ana's passport back from the Cuban authorities. Your job will entail a certain degree of diplomacy if you know what I mean. I will give you a power of attorney so you can act on my behalf and sign any documents. "How does that sound?"

"Wait a second," Christian said. "How did Ana get a US passport?"

"Yes, sorry I went over that part rather fast. Three years ago when the US embassy reopened for the first time in Havana after more than fifty years of closing, Ana went to the embassy herself and applied for a passport. It was a bit tricky since she was technically still a minor but I worked closely with the embassy and as her parent was able to give my consent electronically." He paused, knowing he needed to give Christian some time to process all the information he'd just given him.

"Okay, then. I can leave on the next flight."

"Good. Because I already have reservations for a commercial flight to Cancun for this Friday. We just need to change it to your name." Raymond smiled, satisfied. But then his expression changed from pleased to curiosity. "I take it you're not leaving a girlfriend or significant other behind, are you?"

"I'm not, I'm single and carefree."

"Perfect. I'm trusting you with my daughter here. So, whatever you do, don't fall in love with my daughter. That's the only thing I ask."

Christian raised a brow. What was he supposed to say to that? "Please rest assured, sir. I take my job very seriously, and I would never cross professional boundaries. I'm a man of my word." It was true, the last thing he wanted was to fall in love, his track record with women wasn't exactly worth bragging about.

A/N: I hope you all liked my version of Ana.

Should A& C meet in the next chapter or the next one after that? Will it be love at first sight?