SERENADE

Chapter One

     The salsa music wasn't loud enough, even though the floor vibrated beneath  Julia Rios' high-heeled sandals. She closed her eyes and smiled, not minding  one bit the way the backs of her thighs stuck to the uncomfortable folding  chair. She breathed in deeply, taking in the beat until her body surrendered  to it, and the muted chattering and laughter around her faded clean away. 

     This was bliss. If she could have, she would have cranked up the CD  player even louder. As long as the rhythm ricocheted off the stuccoed walls  of her aunt's dance studio, she was safe from any questions about her breakup  with Francisco "Cisco" Valdez, one of the most eligible bachelors in town.

     Certainly no one in their right mind would approach her at this decibel  level .

     She opened an eye a fraction to take a peek, then quickly shut it. "Lord,  help me," she murmured. 

     The room was quickly filling. When word had leaked that she had enrolled  in her aunt's salsa classes, enrollment had doubled. Julia had dragged juicy  scandal, a real live soap opera, right to their front doorstep.

     The youngest in the room by thirty years, Julia was surrogate daughter to  the students streaming into the quaint room. They were more like an extended  family of aunts and uncles. In their eyes, she had to answer to them. 

     Julia didn't have much hope for keeping them at bay for long. Her smile  disintegrated at the realization.

     As soon as the music stopped, they would demand details of her sorry love  life, an added perk for their money. They expected explanations and the  right to comfort her, swearing to help her find justice. All in the name of  love, of course.

     Elvira was ecstatic. Not for Julia's misery, but for the first time in  years, a waiting list had formed. Julia was the best thing to happen to the  studio since the Perez twins had actually met the actor, Andy Garcia, at  Lindbergh Airport three years before.

     Glad that business had skyrocketed for the studio yet again, Julia  resigned herself to being the ultimate advertising campaign for her aunt.  Elvira needed the break financially.

     For the twentieth time, someone patted Julia's head.

     Julia reluctantly opened her eyes. "Oh. Hello, Lorenza," she mouthed at  the elderly woman who lived across the street, her aunt's eternal student and  best friend.

     The only one to brave the music, Lorenza leaned close to Julia's ear and  shouted, "Did he dump you?"

     Why had Julia thought a little loud music would deter anyone like  Lorenza? Julia expected everyone in the room to lean forward for her answer.  When no one else reacted, she pulled Lorenza's wrinkled hand off her head  and held it. She shook her head, unwilling to shout back a response, because  with her luck, the music would stop smack in the middle of her feeble attempt  at explaining. 

     The sympathetic look in Lorenza's dark eyes--highlighted with fluorescent  blue eye shadow today--said it all. She didn't believe Julia.

     She took Julia's face between her hands and kissed her forehead. "Poor  baby." Her whisper seemed as loud as her shouting. "That scumbag! If he  wants to be mayor he better clean up his act. None of us will vote for him  if he hurts you." 

    She yelled again. "I want to hear every detail!"

     Julia nodded. Her time had run out. 

     Lorenza bade her good-bye and paraded before the row of occupied chairs,  her short party dress swishing around full legs. She greeted everyone along  the way with smiles and touches and hearty embraces. She found a seat at the  end of the row and stuffed her white patent handbag underneath it.  Immediately, several older gentlemen surrounded her, nobly ignoring the loud music to attempt conversation. 

     A stream of blue-haired ladies approached Julia and patted her head before making their way to the few remaining seats. Julia gave up trying to fix her hair. All those gestures of sympathy had reduced a sleek and professional style to a nestlike tuft on the top of her head. She shrugged. Small price to pay for a few more minutes of self-imposed solitary confinement.

     Her reverie crumbled when she caught Elvira's dour look, aimed, she was sure, at her. Maybe Julia had cranked the music up a little louder than bearable. She glanced around and discarded that thought. She and Elvira were probably the only two in the room who didn't need hearing aids. 

     Julia blew her a kiss. Elvira wagged a finger at Julia and smiled.

     Elvira's ever-elegant ballerina body glided across the scarred but gleaming wood floor to the CD player. She barely turned down the music. The buzz of countless conversations grew loud again. She opened a folder and leaned over the table, studying its contents.

     At sixty, with her hair pulled back into a sleek chignon, she sometimes looked younger than Julia's mother. She certainly was more approachable and less likely to stay disappointed in Julia's fiascoes or shortcomings than her mother. 

     Not only had Julia broken off her engagement to Cisco--the charismatic, front-runner for the upcoming mayoral race--she'd also left his father's prestigious public relations company. Many would call her a fool. 

     Julia glanced around and sank into her seat. If there was one place she could melt into the woodwork, it was here in the studio, her home away from home. Her aunt's students would let her get her shaky self standing again. Then they'd smack her on the butt and tell her to get back to the task of living. 

     She looked up and her spirits instantly lifted. She couldn't help but smile and wave at the gentleman approaching.

     Her grandpa returned the wave and walked toward her, his steps long and sure. His smile reached his eyes, twinkling behind the horn-rimmed glasses. His silver hair, slicked straight back from a high forehead, was never complete without the one Elvis Presley lock falling forward. 

     Julia reached up and grabbed his hand. "Save me, grandpa."

     "Ah-ah-ah. You had to know it would be like this, mi hija." He pulled around the chair she'd been saving for him so that he could face her.

     She held his hand tightly, and leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched. "I did the right thing, Grandpa, I know I did. Everyone thinks I'm a fool, giving up Francisco's name and fame, but it wasn't important. I wanted that all-consuming love. Passion, friendship, respect. Everything."

     "Everyone thought you had that." 

     She sighed. "So did I. Francisco is a great guy, but there just wasn't that spark. Besides, I would never have been as important to him as his next campaign. I want to love somebody the way you loved Grandma, and have somebody love me back just as much."

     His eyes misted. He slowly rocked back and forth, memory taking him far beyond Julia, even though it had been years since Grandma had passed away. "Ah, yes, mi hija. That once in a lifetime love that makes you thank God daily and often times, count the hours until you're in each other's presence again." He closed his eyes and rocked again. "Yes, yes. But that's a gift, Julia. Just wanting it will not make it so." 

     Julia wanted to kick herself for changing the mood so drastically. "I guess I'm not ready then. Setting up my company is taking most of my time these days."

     He shook his head. "Chiquita. Timing has nothing to do with when you fall in love. It's not something to be negotiated or planned out." 

     "I know." Julia patted his hand. "I know, Grandpa. For now I just want to forget everything for four hours a week, right in this room. Promise you'll be my dance partner." 

     He chuckled, the sparkle returning to his eyes. "Your aunt wouldn't allow that. Nor would I. You're going to have to face them all sooner or later."

     He tucked her hair behind her left ear, his gaze sweeping over the top of her head. "I see they've tried to get you to talk already. Did they use the old torturing device--pulling your hair out one by one?" 

     Julia slipped her hand from his and crossed her arms. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

     Laughing, he managed, "Did they get anything out of you?"

     "Just Lorenza. A morsel."

     "Oh-oh. A morsel isn't a morsel to Lorenza. Anyone else?"

     Julia shook her head. 

     "You're safe for now. You'll feel better when you help your aunt. Dance with everyone here. Switching partners is what makes this fun." He leaned forward in his seat and waved at a tiny woman in a flowered dress at the end of their row.

     "I can see I'll get a lot of sympathy from you, grandpa."

     "Not in this room, with this music. But come on over for coffee and your uncle's pan dulce afterward, and I'll let you cry on my shoulder as long as you need." He glanced at his watch. "Well, until the early bird special at Denny's tonight." 

     He patted her cheek. "If you feel you did the right thing, you did the right thing. Marrying the wrong man for the sake of a name would have taken years off your life. Now just dance."

     He kissed her, rose and walked toward the woman in the flowered dress. 

     That's why Julia had resumed her lessons in the first place. Music was medicine. Dancing was just what the doctor ordered. 

     And as much as she complained, the people here protected her as much as they pounced on her. The studio was a healing sanctuary. Julia looked gratefully at her aunt. 

     Elvira looked up from her paperwork, glanced across the large room at her, and smiled. As she reached for the switch to turn down the music, the bright sunlight streaming into the room through the open side door disappeared. 

     Eclipse, Julia thought, until her eyes lit on ridiculously wide shoulders silhouetted in the doorway. She followed the long line of a man's body--a man's large, hard body--with mild appreciation. There was no mistaking the masculinity exuded in that simple stance. Masculine, manly, macho. All with a capital M. 

     The old men around the room collectively sucked in their guts, reminding her of a bunch of roosters with ruffled feathers. The women sat up straighter and tried to cross their legs. Slowly, silently, every head turned to watch the imposing figure step inside the room. Conversations dwindled to nothing. 

     Ignoring her proximity to the volume switch, Elvira cupped her hands around her mouth and apparently yelled something to the stranger. 

     Sauntering toward Elvira, he removed his white Stetson. From behind his back he whipped out the largest hand-held bouquet of red roses Julia had ever seen. Fascinated by the response to his presence, Julia rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her folded hands to study the scene around her.

     From the corner of her eye, Julia caught Lorenza waving frantically from her end of the row to get her attention. She jerked a thumb at the man, winked at Julia, then gave an A-OK signal.

     Mortified, Julia pushed as far back into her seat as possible. Avoiding any eye contact with Lorenza would be crucial until the man left the premises. 

     He stopped in front of Elvira, bent slightly forward at the waist, and shook her slender hand. She accepted the flowers with a warm smile. 

     The man stood taller. 

     "Oh, brother," Julia muttered. She glanced at the dreamy-eyed women in their chairs, and felt terrible for the men. 

     From this distance, she couldn't deny the guy was a looker. If she were a bettin' woman, Julia would say he was clearly not from any San Diego suburb she'd ever visited. She'd kill for a model that made people react like he had, and wouldn't have minded placing him in an advertising campaign for anything. Beans. Bora Bora. BMWs. 

     His jeans hugged long muscular legs at just the right spots. Light skittered off a silver belt buckle that had to weigh ten pounds, which partially explained his exaggerated strut. He reeked ruggedness, but his alligator boots and white Stetson screamed exquisite taste. Maybe that helped tamp down the overbearing macho streak that emanated from him like some heat lamp on the verge of shorting out. 

     Elvira laughed at something the man said. Maybe not. 

     Julia sat up straight, the music no longer working its relaxing magic over her. So he had charm to go with that body. It could mean nothing. Then again, it could mean a potentially combustible combination. 

     Rios women were not ones to trust so readily. And if they did, heaven help them.

     He put on his hat and pointed out the door. The look on Elvira's face fell. Her eyes narrowed. She rammed her fists onto her waist. For all his smooth and mesmerizing moves, the man had obviously crossed the line with her aunt. 

     Ah, thought Julia, lesson number one for the visiting cowboy--Rios women weren't afraid to stand up to a man, especially on their own turf. This was definitely Elvira's turf.

     Julia jumped up, her aunt's anger reeling her in. She looked only at Elvira, the worry in her eyes turning them a stormy gray. "Is there a problem, Auntie?"

     "No problem, Julia. Se³or Montalvo is a new businessman in the neighborhood. He introduced himself, thought we had business to do together, and since we don't, he was just leaving." She threw the roses on the table next to the blaring CD player.

     "And who, darlin', might you be?" The drawl floated down to her, deep and sexy and unsettling. It reminded her of warm blankets and blazing fireplaces and endless hours. And it had no right to be here at a time like this.

     She hoped to high heaven he wouldn't have a face to match that voice. "I'm not your 'darlin.'" She enunciated the word with as much venom as she could muster.

     She turned slowly, and found herself nose to chest, checking out the silver tab buttons on his pressed denim shirt. She followed the line of buttons to the hollow of his neck, taking in the broad shoulders yet again. 

     A few more seconds to bide her time was all she gave herself. An hour wouldn't have helped. 

     His eyes, even though they gleamed as rich and dark as the coffee beans Julia bought, shone bright with amusement.

     "What are you smiling at?" Her clipped tone wouldn't laud her as neighbor of the year. 

     "Is that a California thing?"

     "What?"

     "The hairdo."

     Julia ran her hand over head. "Very funny." 

     "I kind of like it. In Texas, that nest," he pointed to the center of her head, "would be a couple of inches deeper. Not that I'm a fan of big hair, mind you."

     Julia jerked her head away. "You upset my aunt."

     "I didn't mean to. Honest, darlin'."

      Yes, he could surely sell anything with the way his eyes looked seemingly through her. Julia found herself wanting to believe him--but luckily he spoke again. 

     "I offered your aunt a business proposition. A profitable one, I might add, and I tried to be neighborly about it. I'd like to buy her studio." 

     Buy her studio? "Trying to buy a business that isn't for sale isn't my definition of neighborly." Julia's hands turned cold and she clasped them to keep from throttling him.

     "I'm her niece. And her public relations and business manager." She wrapped an arm around Elvira's slight shoulders. 

     Her aunt looked at her doubtfully. "As of when, Julia?"

     "As of right now." She stroked her aunt's arm. "Don't worry about a thing."

     His raised eyebrow was maddening. "Ah, well, niece. You're the one I'll be doing business with, then." He placed the hat back on his head. "I'm opening a sports bar and restaurant, complete with a dance floor to feature live entertainment, in the open lot next to this property." 

     He whipped out a silver case from his shirt pocket, slipped a card from within, and handed it to Julia. Ricardo Montalvo. "I'm open to any input you might have to make this a business deal that'll make all of us happy."

     Julia crumbled the card in her hand. "The studio is not for sale, Se³or Montalvo. Hence, no need for negotiations." 

     "Let's be civil about this and settle it like the neighbors we're going to be," he said, his quiet tone suddenly deadly. His placid expression was betrayed only by the twitch in his jaw.

     Anger rose in Julia at what he was subjecting her aunt to. "Neighbors don't roll into a neighborhood and threaten change if they want to be part of a community. Why would you want the studio if you're opening a restaurant with a dance floor? Certainly you're not worried about competition. We wouldn't be in the same league."

     He stroked the short beard with a ringless hand for what seemed an eternity. "Certainly not. I need the space."

     "You have the prime section of the lot. You can't possibly . . ."

     "I'm not talking about the restaurant. We need parking space."

     Julia's mouth dropped open. Of all the insensitive things he could have said, this proved the most ruthless. She glanced at her aunt, who had shut her eyes and stood like a porcelain doll, motionless and fragile. Julia hugged her until Elvira responded, clutching the back of the silk sheath Julia wore. "I'm sorry, Auntie. I'll take care of this. Start class before the natives get restless."

     "I apologize, Do³a Elvira. I was out of line."

      She nodded curtly. Her shuddering breath echoed in Julia's ear. "Thank you, mi hija." She leaned back from the embrace and patted down Julia's tuft of hair. "The show must go on now, doesn't it? Se³or Montalvo, if you'll excuse me." 

     Elvira turned off the music with the flick of a switch and clapped her hands. "In a circle, everyone. Boy, girl, boy girl. Let's have some fun today!" She pasted on a smile and headed for the center of the room.

     Julia seized the diversion. She grabbed Ricardo's arm firmly and turned him toward the door. "Get out."

     He dug his heels in. "Boy? Girl?" He glanced around. "Does your aunt need glasses?" 

     Julia crossed her arms, restraining herself from throwing him out physically. Her anger would give her strength to toss him right to the middle of his damn lot. "Don't go there."

     "Darlin', it's a joke." He held up his hands in surrender. "All right. A bad joke. I'd like to stay awhile and watch, though."

     "Impossible."

     "I might want to take some classes."

     "They're full."

     "A waiting list?"

     "Long."

     "I want to learn salsa, officially. I'm a quick study." 

     "You don't look like the salsa type."

     "What type do I look like?"

     Julia let out an exasperated breath. "You don't want to know. Is this your idea of a business tactic--trying to force your way in to the studio any way you can?"

     "Nope. Your aunt called for fun. I need an intro to the neighborhood and a diversion from work. You know, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

     "You terrorize people for a living. I don't think that qualifies as dull."

     "I'll pay private lesson rates."

     The mention of money fueled Julia's anger. "Go somewhere else. Your money's not wanted here. Please go."

     He studied her for a long moment, the smile fading from his lips. "As you wish."

     He walked past her toward Elvira in the middle of the dance floor, the swagger of his hips impossible to ignore. Julia's grandfather met him halfway to Elvira.

     "I'm Carlos Rios. May I help you, son?"

     "I just wanted to say my good-byes."

     "My daughter and granddaughter seem upset. Don't you think you've said enough already?"

     "Apparently I have." He stuck his hand out and waited until Carlos took it firmly in his own. "Ricardo Montalvo. I apologize, sir, but I still have to speak to Do³a Elvira. Excuse me." 

     He continued past Carlos, Julia close at his heels. 

     "Do³a Elvira?" His voice boomed above her instruction and everyone stopped mid-step of their salsa lesson. 

     He took his hat off with a flourish and held it to his chest. "I apologize for interrupting your class and any grief I may have caused you. It certainly wasn't intended. I'll speak with your niece about the business proposition, but if you have any questions whatsoever, I'm at your service."

     Elvira nodded. "Thank you."

     He turned to the others. "Good day, folks. You're looking good out here. Maybe I could get a lesson sometime."

     Lorenza stepped out of the crowd. She squeezed his biceps, patted his chest. "I'd give you lessons, son, but Julia is a much better teacher." 

     "I don't think Julia likes me much," he whispered conspiratorially.

     "She doesn't like any man much right now." She tugged his arm until he leaned down. "As a matter of fact . . ."

     Julia stepped between them. "As a matter of fact, you're losing dance time, and Se³or Montalvo was just leaving."

     She tugged his arm free from Lorenza's grasp, and with a slight push, nudged him toward the open door.

     He waved. Much to Julia's chagrin, everyone waved back in silence.

     "You're not being very neighborly, Niece."

     "And you are?"

     "You can conduct business and still be a good neighbor."

     "To you, this might be parking lot material, but to my aunt, this is her lifeline. Her heart and soul have made it what it is." 

     Outside, she clenched her fists, wanting to smack the smirk right off his face. "Look around you. This is their only recourse for socializing in this neighborhood. It's within walking distance from their homes. I hate to think what would happen if you took this from them."

     Slowly he crossed his arms and glanced around. "I admire what you're trying to do, really I do, but there's no room for emotion in a business transaction."

     "Do you know how utterly ridiculous you sound? Every business transaction involves people. There's plenty of emotion involved."

     "You want emotion? Take off your blinders. How much longer will your aunt be able to do this? Don't you want to see her retire with a comfortable nest egg? I'm offering to buy the place. I'll pay handsomely."

     "I'll bet you think you can buy just about anything. Well, you can't. These people depend on this place, on my aunt and on me."

     "Then do this for them. I come in peace, darlin'. In peace but with a business agenda."

     He tilted back the Stetson. "This studio is quaint, but people are screaming for my kind of place, where they can really kick up their heels to some salsa or two step." He paced a few steps, then stared at her as if he didn't see her. "How about if I keep your aunt's building intact, but move it from this lot? That's an option."

     "No. It's an historical landmark, for crying out loud." Fear rose in Julia. This wasn't just another business deal she was making. Her aunt's life was at stake. 

     "Darlin', I'll be straight with you. There are more loopholes in your aunt's ninety-nine year lease than you can imagine. My lawyer handed it back to me within half an hour, saying it was a joke. I could go that route, but I won't because I'm moving into the neighborhood and I'm basically a nice guy." 

     He pulled his hat down lower, shading his eyes. "On the business side of things, I've already covered my bases, dropped a ton of money into a can't-lose investment, and have political backing for the project. Let there be no doubt about it, Julia. I need my restaurant chain to continue to prosper, for reasons I will not divulge. Nothing's going to stand in the way of that. I will have that continued success right here in Old Town, with your help or without it."

     He clamped his mouth shut, fuming, his chest rising and falling. Julia imagined it was his own control mechanism kicking in. Even though her knees knocked and she feared he would glance down and see them, she conjured up the most nonchalant look she could muster. She tilted up her chin. "Without."

     His jaw twitched again. "Now, don't be hasty, darlin'," he said through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to spout off, but I want you to know where I'm coming from. It would be better for your aunt if you cooperated."

     Her stomach was doing flip-flops a hundred times a minute. "The businesses in this neighborhood have been here for years. No outsider is going to tell them what to do or change anything just because you wave a wad of bills beneath their noses. We don't need a disco here." 

     "You need it more than you think. I've already talked to some local politicians, and they're eager to get this underway. It'll help your economy. It'll help give this area a contemporary look. It'll help bridge old with new."

     He tilted up her chin. "It might even help loosen you up, honey."

     She slapped his hand away, when what she really wanted to do was bite it. "Of all the . . . Do you make it a habit of sticking your foot in your mouth all the time or is it just a diversionary tactic?" 

     He placed his hand on the wall next to her head. "Every word that comes from my mouth is deliberate, darlin'. I've been told I'm brutally honest, others say I have no tact. If there's one thing you can believe, it's what I say. I pull no punches. Ever."

     Julia swallowed the lump in her throat with great difficulty. His overbearing size and attitude were suffocating.

     "Then we're of like minds, Se³or Montalvo. The big difference is I don't believe in people who deal with absolutes. Always. Never. Black and white. Life isn't like that."

     He took his Stetson off and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve. "It is in business. What's important is the here and now and the fact I have a good business record. On a business level, you can trust me, even if you've never dealt with me before."

     She snorted. "Trust comes with time, not with intimidation. Our business is over." She turned to go.

     "No, darlin'. It's just beginning. Don't make this difficult for your aunt. I'm requesting your presence at my office Monday morning. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll change your lives--for the better. I promise, and I'm a man of my word."

     In less than fifteen minutes, he had already changed their lives. Giving him forty-eight hours? Julia shuddered thinking of what he might do if she didn't show. For her aunt's sake, she had to go. "On one condition."

     He shoved his hat back on and raised an eyebrow. "Negotiations already? My type of woman. Shoot." His disarming smile didn't warm her one bit.

     "I want our meeting recorded and in writing."

     "Easy enough." He turned to go.

     "I'm not done yet." She straightened herself as tall as she could when he faced her. "Until we have a legal understanding of this business proposal, you stay the hell off of this property and don't come near my aunt again."

     His eyes widened in surprise momentarily, but a slow, wicked grin tweaked his lips. He touched his finger to the tip of his hat. "Good day, darlin'. See you Monday."