Love Tango Read online

  Roxanne owed Nancy for helping her with her fledgling genealogy business.

  “I like to dance,” Roxanne said, hesitantly. “I’m not good at it, but I do enjoy a rousing polka.”

  “Perfect.” Nancy pulled out her phone. “After lunch we’ll head over to Mike’s office. He would like to meet you.”

  “I should take my sister home first.”

  “Nonsense. Bring her along. Mike won’t mind. I’ll keep her occupied.”

  Portia clapped her hands. “This sounds like fun!”

  Fun. Right. Roxanne had some reservations. Who would they pair her with? And what in the hell had she gotten herself into?

  * * *

  Mike Bertram’s office was large enough to hold a dozen people. A large picture window overlooked the street. Bookshelves lined one whole wall and were stuffed with scripts and books. A huge black glass desk sat across a corner and Mike stood in front of it with a tall, slim man. Mike was shorter than Roxanne, slightly paunchy, but with a friendly face and kind eyes. He wore an expensive black suit, snow-white shirt and red tie.

  “Roxanne, thank you for coming,” Mike said holding out his hand. His head barely came to her shoulder and his handshake was soft. “Let me introduce you to my business partner, Nicholas Torres.”

  She shook Mike’s hand and turned to Nicholas Torres. She caught her breath. Nicholas Torres was more handsome in person than on TV. He not only produced the show, but was the lead dancer for Celebrity Dance. Nicholas was tall and lithe, but with a muscular catlike grace as he walked to her and shook her hand. His hand was warm and strong. His skin was a pleasing light cinnamon tone and his eyes were gray-brown flecked with green. He was dressed more casually in dark blue pants, a steel-gray shirt at the neck, no jacket or tie. His hair was cut tight to his head and he wore a diamond stud in one ear. She especially liked the fact that he towered over her by several inches—something most men didn’t do.

  His handshake was pleasantly firm without being crushing. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Deveraux.”

  Something about him made her insides go all hot and gooey. Roxanne grinned at him. “Please, call me Roxanne,” she said, her voice sounding a little breathy. Hmm... It had been a long time since she had been so immediately taken by a man. She was surprised.

  He smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “I’m Nick. Shall we sit down?” He gestured at a grouping of chairs in a corner surrounding a coffee table with a glass top. A tray with coffee cups and a pot rested on one end. “I understand you started a business doing genealogy.”

  Roxanne began, after taking a long, slow breath to calm herself, “It’s still in its infancy stage. Most of my clients have come from the shows I’ve worked on. Genealogy is one of the fastest growing hobbies in America.” She laughed. “Did I just sound like an infomercial?”

  Nick grinned at her. “You sounded like you’re passionate about genealogy.”

  “I am.” Roxanne glanced at Nancy who took a seat at the bar with Portia next to her.

  “Mike,” Roxanne said, “didn’t you find it exciting to know Nancy is descended from the Sun King, Louis XIV, through one of his mistresses?”

  “I didn’t need to know that to recognize she was royalty.” Mike blushed a little after a quick glance at his wife. “My own ancestry was a bit of a surprise. Who knew I came from a long line of entertainers? I don’t have a talented bone in my body. And when you showed me that one of my ancestors was sponsored by King Charles II of England, I was surprised. And even more surprised to find out he liked playing female roles.” Mike gave a short, self-deprecating laugh.

  “That was a lucky find. Women weren’t allowed on the stage at that time,” Roxanne said. “They weren’t allowed to do much besides produce more little humans. So nice to know we’ve come such a long way.”

  Nick Torres had a deep, pleasant laugh. “I’ll admit, I’m a little curious myself about my ancestors.”

  “It’s like a trail. Finding all the landmarks is fun and exciting and people learn about history in a very personal way because it grounds us to our past and makes everything real. I remember in high school how bored I was by historical facts that had little context for me. But finding out about my ancestors made history come to life.”

  Mike beamed, obviously proud of his ancestry. “What happens when you don’t find anything?”

  “The internet is pretty extensive when it comes to ancestry searches,” Roxanne explained, “but sometimes records are lost or haven’t been digitized yet, and that’s when the real work starts. But there’s always a trail of some sort no matter how tiny. It could be something as simple as a marriage certificate or a birth certificate. My great-grandfather’s WWII service records were lost in a fire, but I found his draft card. That wasn’t much, but it did give me a context to work from and I discovered my great-grandfather was stationed at Pearl Harbor the day Japan bombed it and I was able to find the son of one of the men he served with, who actually remembered my great-grandfather.” That had been a happy accident that had added another piece to the jigsaw puzzle of her family history.

  “Sounds like fun,” Nick said, “but what we really wanted to talk to you about is being on Celebrity Dance.”

  Roxanne smiled at him. “I love to dance, but I’m a little on the klutzy side.” She didn’t add she was five foot ten. They could see that for themselves.

  She also didn’t add that she really didn’t want to do the show but felt obligated to do it. She only hoped she still had her dignity intact when it was over.

  “You’ve been turning up in a lot of bit parts lately.”

  “Just keeping my hand in the business.”

  “Are you thinking about making a full-blown return?”

  “I don’t want to do a weekly show anymore or movies. I’m really happy just doing little bit parts here and there. And being a corpse works just fine.” She’d thought she’d hated acting, but after a few years and a lot of thought she realized she enjoyed acting on a limited basis. Her parents’ manipulation of her had been what she’d really despised.

  “But being a corpse isn’t much of a challenge,” Nick said.

  “Are you making fun of me?” She felt a stab of disappointment that he would judge her without knowing anything about her.

  He looked startled. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

  She said defensively, “You try holding your breath and looking dead at the same time for a minute or two and not turn blue.” She wondered if she could specialize in corpse acting. Was there such a thing? She liked the short jobs. In their own way, they were fun. Those jobs weren’t a challenge. She wasn’t in Death of a Salesman. Nick and Mike laughed. She glanced at Nancy and Portia who had zoned out and were bonding over their shoes.

  “Your name has been showing up in a lot of places lately,” Mike said.

  “Which I don’t understand.” Roxanne gave a little shrug.

  “So, you’re not a fan of social media.”

  “I’m more connected to the past.”

  “Does your business pay well?” Nick asked.

  “It does when I have celebrity clients. You’d be surprised how many actors and actresses are disappointed when they find out Shakespeare isn’t in their family tree.”

  Nick grinned at her and the beauty of his smile made her blood race. She imagined herself in his arms and heat rose in her. “I can guarantee he’s not in my family tree?”

  “Don’t be so certain,” Roxanne cautioned, but she wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or herself.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s been some controversy that Shakespeare had a longtime black mistress. And the fact that he wrote Othello does give us some clues into his social group.”

  He looked so surprised, she laughed.

  “If I ag
ree to go on Celebrity Dance, who are you going to partner me with. LeBron James?”

  “How about me?” Nick asked. He stood and pulled her to her feet. With her hands in his she stared into his eyes and tried not to focus on his very kissable mouth so close to hers.

  “Well, I am enjoying looking up at you.” The top of her head was just even with his nose. His eyes held a sparkle that let her know he was attracted to her, too.

  He took her in his arms and started to draw her into a simple waltz. She smiled at him and immediately stepped on his foot and a second later tripped on an uneven spot on the rug.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Sorry.” Portia and Nancy clapped. Roxanne gave her sister her best stare-down which made Portia burst into laughter.

  “That’s okay,” he said with a grin. “I like to know I have my work cut out for me.”

  Mike stood and held out his hand to Roxanne. “My legal department will be getting in touch with your agent.”

  “Trudy Mendoza handles my legal affairs.” Everyone knew Trudy. She was one of the best entertainment lawyers in the industry. She’d handled Roxanne’s emancipation and had become a friend along the way.

  * * *

  “That is one tall woman,” Mike said.

  “I like tall women,” Nick said. And boy, did she have legs. A little fantasy played out in his mind with her legs wrapped around him. Heat spiraled through him and he stood up and walked to the window. He saw the women exit to the street and make their way to the parking structure.

  “You two are going to look good together,” Mike continued. “But her parents are a piece of work.”

  Nick had only been back in Los Angeles for a couple years and wasn’t up on all the current gossip. He’d had his own controversies in New York. He’d been involved with a Broadway star. Things had ended badly. She’d stalked him all the way to Los Angeles and the situation didn’t end until she’d been checked into a very nice mental facility. The movers and shakers on Broadway had been furious with him, because he’d put a guaranteed moneymaking legend out of business during the run of a very productive play. Nick had been lucky to escape to Los Angeles even though his reputation in New York was in tatters. Nobody liked whistle-blowers even when they were in the right.

  Mike nodded. “Her parents wanted her to do this movie to get around child labor laws. They encouraged her to apply for emancipation. She did, was emancipated and refused to do the movie saying it made her uncomfortable. Before the emancipation came through, they tried to force her, but she had the brains to hire Trudy Mendoza...”

  “I remember Trudy Mendoza. She’s the shark all the great whites sharks are afraid of.”

  “She discovered some financial misconduct and before her parents knew anything, she was out from under their thumb. The news was she was able to get her high school diploma early. She ended up at Berkeley.”

  Nick vaguely remembered the gossip, but hadn’t paid that much attention. The parents didn’t stay down long, because they specialized in managing child actors. Plus they had two more of their own biological children to exploit, not as talented as Roxanne who had been the big moneymaker, but still bankable.

  Nick said, “You think when her parents hear about her being on the show that they are going to be trouble?”

  “Nancy tells me,” Mike said, “they have been trying to get back into her good graces for years. She’s still a moneymaker if she wants to be. The public loves her.”

  Nick could see why. She was just the kind of person he liked. Besides being beautiful, she was smart and funny.

  “We have a nice lineup for the second season of Celebrity Dance,” Nick said. He liked diversity. Roxanne Deveraux would add just the right kind of spunk and sass that he liked. She could laugh at herself. That LeBron James line was funny. And that look of panic in her eyes when he told her he wanted her as his partner had been priceless.

  “She’ll work out,” Nick continued, suddenly anxious to get her to her first practice. Already he was planning their first dance. They always started with a waltz because it was simple. She would be elegant in burgundy silk with her hair up, showing off her long neck. He’d wear a white tuxedo and matching top hat. He found himself swaying as he imagined their waltz.

  “Nick. Nick. Nick. Where are you, Nick? Come back to me.”

  Nick came back with a start. “Sorry, my mind was wandering.”

  “I could tell,” Mike said with a wry tone. “I need to call the lawyers and get them working on her contract. You need to get back to the studio. The publicist is sending me urgent SOSs. He’s been receiving calls all morning regarding the guests for our summer season and when we’ll release the list.”

  Nick had to laugh. “I’ll go help him field the calls.”

  * * *

  In the car, Roxanne handed her keys to her sister, climbed onto the passenger seat and leaned her head back as Portia cleanly navigated out of the parking structure and onto the street heading for the freeway.

  “Thank you for the emotional support at that meeting.”

  “You were fabulous.”

  “You never did tell me what Mom and Dad want you to do?” Roxanne said, suppressing a yawn.

  Portia drove up the entry ramp and merged into traffic heading back to Pacific Palisades. “You know who Javier Gomez is, don’t you?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.”

  “You probably know him as El Gomez. He got his start in Mexico composing narco corridos and managed to make the transition to the LA music scene.”

  Roxanne stared at her sister. “What are narco corridos?” She had no idea who El Gomez was.

  “Mexican ballads that glorify the drug trade and the crime lords in Mexico. Mom and Dad want me to date him.”

  Roxanne sat up straight. “Are your parents insane?”

  “They are your parents, too.” Portia said with a laugh.

  “Only through the sharing of DNA. What...what...huh...what... The words just won’t come.”

  “He’s edgy and trending. He has three million Twitter followers and another five million on Instagram. And he’s a kid. I’m twenty-two years old and he’s eighteen. He still acts like he’s the hot man on the high school campus. He struts. All he has to do is point his finger at whichever groupie is following him around at that moment and she falls at his feet.” Portia shuddered.

  Roxanne opened the browser on her phone and did a quick search. A photo appeared of a good-looking teenager in a slick Latin sort of way. “He has a face tattoo.”

  “And a tongue stud, ear plugs and a nose ring. He has more jewelry on his body than I have in my jewelry box. And he’s four inches shorter than me and I’m not tall to begin with.”

  Roxanne scrolled through the photos and articles. “What do Mom and Dad think your dating this...this...man-child is going to accomplish?”

  “The Latin market is the fastest-growing market on TV—discretionary income and, well, just about everything. They think it would be good for my career. They want me to be the first black actress on a telenovela because I speak Spanish so well.”

  “I told you to take German in high school,” Roxanne said. Portia had been surprisingly good at languages and picked up Spanish in no time. “I repeat—they are insane.” And greedy. “What did you tell them?”

  “Words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I just got up and left.”

  “Is our brother on board with this?”

  “He hasn’t objected. It was originally Dad’s idea, and if I wasn’t driving, I’d add air quotes to ‘they’re all bros now.’ I’d feel like Esther the molester.”

  Roxanne continued to read. “Do Mom and Dad realize his uncle is Manuel Gomez? He runs the second-largest drug cartel in Mexico.” Her parents may have been the most difficult people on the face of the earth, but they didn’t condon
e drugs. For that, Roxanne had to admire them. She started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I just went to my future place and had this image of your wedding. His side of the church, your side of the church and the DEA in the middle.”

  “Stop trying to make me laugh. Right now, I’m picturing my bridesmaids in jailhouse orange.”

  “Since I’ll be your maid of honor, can I wear horizontal stripes and carry a bouquet that could double as a prison weapon?”

  “Stop,” Portia begged. “I’m going to run off the road trying not to laugh.”

  “We can serve prison-gourmet food of chicken nuggets and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches,” Roxanne continued, the image in her mind growing more detailed. “And sit on hard benches and bang our plastic utensils on the table.”

  “We’re done,” Portia said. “My stomach hurts from trying not to laugh. But the reality is...he scares me. And what happens if being around him makes me a target, too?”

  Roxanne sobered. The more she read about El Gomez the more he frightened her, too. “They can’t force you to date him. You’re a grown woman. If you want to walk away, I can help. I have money and I can protect you.”

  “I’m fine,” Portia said. “I like doing the commercials and voice-overs. And I’ll deal with Mom and Dad.”

  Roxanne didn’t say anything to her sister—Portia needed her dream of escape—but their parents wouldn’t let her go easily. She might be only twenty-two but as the middle child, she was the family peacemaker with their parents using her as a buffer even between themselves. She didn’t like the chaos or drama that dominated their parents’ lives and did her best to soothe difficult moments, to keep things running smoothly.

  They would find a way to keep her trapped. Roxanne pondered what she could do to help, but nothing came to her. Sometimes she felt sad that she’d extricated herself from the chaos that was the Deveraux family and left her brother and sister behind. When she’d been sixteen, she’d been more worried about herself and anxious to get away. She never thought about how her parents would exploit Portia and Tristan. And now, with her parents all of a sudden encouraging their kids to run with people with hardcore criminal ties, she knew she had to do something. She just didn’t know what. She would again offer to pay Portia’s college tuition or cosign for a loan, and maybe this time she’d accept.