Never Again: a second chance romance (Quicksand Book 3) Page 2

  Mind preoccupied with thoughts of Carlos, Carmen entered her best friend, Natalie’s, two-bedroom apartment. Cherry-wood cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and modern furniture adorned the interior, all located in a trendy urban community that included shopping, dining, and entertainment within walking distance. The back windows of Natalie’s apartment overlooked the highway and the Atlanta skyline. From here, she could hop in her car and arrive to just about anywhere in the city within minutes.

  It was the perfect spot for Carmen to stay while visiting, and Natalie had welcomed her into the guest bedroom on the first floor, which had remained virtually unused since she moved in.

  She found Natalie watching television in the living room, which overlooked streets currently low on pedestrian traffic.

  “Hey,” Natalie said, not looking up from the court show that held her attention. She lifted a hand in greeting.

  Natalie was a full-figured woman with long Senegalese twists adorned with gold cuffs pulled over one shoulder. As an event coordinator specializing in night-time events, she was usually home during the day and gone at night.

  “I saw Carlos today.” Carmen dropped into the chair catty-corner to the sofa where Natalie sat.

  Her friend swung her head in Carmen’s direction. “Excuse me? Are you talking about the Carlos Hortado, the love of your life, the man who left Canada and you haven’t heard from him since?”

  Carmen nodded, gnawing the side of her bottom lip.

  Natalie muted the television. Holding one leg under her, she turned her body in Carmen’s direction and gave her full attention. “When and where did you see him? I need details.”

  “I saw him after I left the gym a little while ago. He lives in Atlanta and has a place in Inman Park.”

  “Are you two going to meet up again?”

  Carmen shrugged and tugged at the hem of her shorts. “I doubt it. I gave him my phone number, but I don’t think he’s going to call.” She felt foolish now. What had she been thinking?

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just the vibe he gave off. He wasn’t… enthusiastic to see me.” It was embarrassing to admit, but she could share that information with Natalie, who knew her better than anyone else.

  Natalie had visited the States after she graduated from university and liked Atlanta so much, she stayed. They remained best friends through the years, and Natalie knew all about Carmen’s break-up with Carlos.

  Her friend sent a sympathetic gaze her way. “I’m sorry, girl.”

  Deflated, Carmen sighed. “In the three years since we split, I didn’t imagine that when we met again, it would go this way. I guess I’m just foolish and romantic and thought that he would sweep me into his arms and tell me how much he regretted leaving me behind.” She let out a dry laugh and swallowed down the hurt. “But that didn’t happen, obviously. I don’t think he missed me at all,” she finished in a soft, pained voice.

  “Don’t do that,” Natalie said fiercely. “Don’t do that thing where you torture yourself about how he feels. What you guys had was beautiful, but it was three years ago, and unless he tells you differently, I believe that he loved you.”

  “Then why did he leave?”

  “Because he needed a new start. Because he couldn’t deal with your father anymore. You want to lay the blame somewhere, look at your daddy.”

  Carmen shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Natalie was partially correct, but Carlos had to bear some of the responsibility. He didn’t listen when she told him she would go with him, and he just…left her.

  “I don’t want to talk about him because it’s going to make me upset. Tell me about this event that you’re putting on.”

  Natalie’s face lit up. She lost her job a little over a year ago and now worked as a freelance event planner, organizing lavish parties and events for individuals or families, but lately she’d ventured into corporate planning and had agreed to put together an artistic event for a non-profit. She chose an inexpensive venue from a company that wanted to make better use of its buildings around the city, thus resulting in a convenient marriage between both entities.

  The event would take place in an old warehouse and include music, art, and plenty of food. Right now, Natalie considered corporate event planning a side gig, but if it worked out, she intended to target more of her advertising toward businesses, particularly small firms, because she earned two and three times what she earned with individual customers. Which meant her father would no longer have to subsidize her living expenses.

  “Tickets have been sold, food has been ordered, and guess what?” Natalie asked.

  “What?”

  “We sold out! All the tickets are gone!” Natalie squealed, throwing up her hands.

  Carmen let out an equally loud squeal of happiness and jumped up from the chair. She gave her friend a big hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “I know, I know. Isn’t that crazy?”

  Carmen sank onto the sofa. “It’s not crazy because I knew you could do it.”

  Natalie took her hand and squeezed. “Thank you for encouraging me to step out on faith. And I know you’ll be just as successful working on these new locations for your father.”

  Carmen shrugged, pretending she wasn’t that concerned, but she was terrified of failure. At one point in time, she had told her father she was not interested in the business. She had fully intended to walk away from her family to be with Carlos. Since then, she’d done a complete one-eighty, and though her father had welcomed her into the corporate offices, he had reservations. Because of her previous lack of interest, he doubted her dedication and desire to stick around and work in the company.

  “We’ll see what happens. Until then, I know what I’ll be doing in two weeks.”

  Natalie grinned, unable to repress her excitement. “You will be attending the first Chocolate Art Affair by Natalie Crimson.” She threw up her hands. “Heyyyy,” she sang, gyrating in the seat.

  Carmen laughed and started dancing on the sofa, too, genuinely excited for her friend. No one was more deserving of success than Natalie, and she gladly went along for the ride.

  Later, Carmen went into her room to get some work done and removed her phone from her purse. She checked the screen and saw she had one missed voicemail from her sister and a text from a friend.

  Two hours later, and still nothing from Carlos. Had she taken his number, she would have called immediately to set up a time to meet up again. But that was the difference between them that she’d always been loath to acknowledge.

  Ever since the beginning, she’d known that she’d loved him way more than he loved her.

  3

  Carlos handed over his ticket and walked into the packed venue.

  Initially, he hadn’t planned on attending the Chocolate Art Affair, but the event had received quite a bit of buzz in the art community, and his agent had encouraged him to go. More of these events were popping up to promote art, where attendees were not only fed, but entertained while being exposed to different art mediums. He considered tonight an opportunity to information gather and see if he wanted to participate in similar ones in the future.

  A wide range of people milled about—different ages and ethnicities, art lovers and pretenders. Abstract paintings filled the first room, and attendees stared up at large and small canvases in either wonder or confusion. In the center of the room, several tables displayed hand-made jewelry consisting of precious and semi-precious stones. There was plenty of conversation, and the sound of live music came from somewhere deeper in the warehouse.

  As Carlos strolled through, a couple of paintings caught his eye, but nothing that tempted him to purchase a piece. He stopped in front of one in particular that gave him an idea for one of his own works. Crossing his arms over his chest, he studied the strokes and design and then moved farther into the warehouse where the real action was.

  He took the three steps down to the concrete floor where a plethora of artists—sculptors, paint
ers, crafters—had assembled, and a band playing soft rock performed on a stage. On the other side of the room, directly across from the musicians, a long line snaked from the open bar and tables overflowed with snacks, including two chocolate fountains—one offering white chocolate and the other offering milk chocolate.

  Carlos perused the artists’ works, stopping for a few minutes to admire a guy painting a landscape on a semi-nude model on a pedestal. Another sold prints, and still another painted portraits on a ten-by-ten canvas. With so much activity and energy in the air, he could be here for several hours, and he’d be energized and inspired for days—possibly weeks—to come.

  He strolled over to where a woman displayed ceramic vases of different sizes on a couple of tables. They were attention-grabbing, and he considered getting one as a gift for his mother. For years she placed fresh flowers in their home, bringing a splash of color into often drab surroundings.

  “How much is this one?”

  About to pick up one of the vases, the question made him freeze. Slowly, Carlos turned toward the sound of Carmen’s voice and saw her in front of a table filled with handmade dolls.

  She looked like she’d been poured into a pair of skin-hugging denim capris and a beige skintight blouse with short sleeves. Wearing her hair in a topknot exposed her neck, reminding him of kissing that sensitive skin and drawing in a deep breath filled with the scent of roses. Carmen used rosewater as an astringent after she cleansed her face and spritzed it on multiple times during the day.

  The vendor must have answered her, but he only heard Carmen’s voice. “That’s a good deal. In that case, I’ll take two,” she said.

  He stared at the back of her head, trying to decide what to do. Stay or go? He hadn’t called since he saw her two weeks ago, but she was right there, giving him another opportunity to connect.

  Carlos swallowed hard. Would she even want to talk to him?

  Didn’t matter. He’d regretted deleting her number and wanted to talk to her.

  She handed over some cash, and while she waited for the woman to wrap the dolls, Carlos walked up beside her.

  “Hi, Carmen.”

  She took a startled step back, eyes going wide. “Carlos.”

  “Surprise.” He smiled.

  She blinked, seeming uncertain about how to react to him. He understood, because he hadn’t been particularly friendly the last time, and he hadn’t called like he said he would.

  She straightened the cross-body bag on her hip. “Is your work on display here tonight?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m only here to check out the event.”

  “Oh, that makes sense then.” She murmured the words, and he almost missed them.

  “What makes sense?”

  “Well…Natalie organized this event. If you were a participant, she would have told me.”

  “And if you’d known that I was one of the artists, would you have come?”

  “I don’t want to answer that.” She turned her head so he could only see her profile.

  “Here you go, ma’am. Thank you for your purchase.” The vendor handed over a brown paper-wrapped package, and Carmen hugged it to her chest.

  “Thank you.” She glanced up at Carlos. “Well, it was good seeing you again. Take care.”

  He took several seconds to recover from her abrupt departure, but he used long strides to catch up and grabbed her arm below the elbow. “Wait.”

  Carmen looked at him with something akin to panic in her eyes. For his part, he almost couldn’t let her go. Her soft skin brought back so many memories. Reluctantly, he released her arm.

  “Don’t leave yet. I… accidentally deleted your number.”

  “Don’t lie, Carlos. You didn’t want to call me, and you didn’t. If my number was deleted from your phone, it’s because you erased it.”

  Same old Carmen, not afraid to call him out on his crap.

  “You’re right. I deleted your number because I didn’t think it would be a good idea for us to stay in touch.”

  She glanced down at her sandaled feet, hiding the expression in her eyes. “And now?”

  His gaze traveled over her face, chest tightening with the burning desire to be closer to her, to talk to her, to simply stay in close proximity. They came from different worlds, but he’d confided in Carmen more than any other living soul—more than his own mother, with whom he was very close. Carmen had peeled back the layers and learned all about his insecurities, dreams, and desires.

  At the same time, she exposed him to so much. Private dinners at fancy restaurants he couldn’t afford on his own and how to pair wine with his food. In exchange, he exposed her to his mother’s culture and Peruvian cuisine. He bragged about his Quechuan heritage and of being a descendant of the Incas. He promised one day to take her to Lima and to the Highlands, where some of his mother’s family still lived.

  At his family’s apartment, she behaved as if every meal they ate was haute cuisine, the best food she’d ever had. Her eyes always sparkled with excitement, so of course his family loved her, and her enthusiasm made his chest stick out.

  “I no longer feel like it’s a bad idea for us to stay in touch. I feel like… honestly, I regretted deleting your number. Would you be willing to give it to me again?” He prayed that the Carmen he knew, who didn’t have a vindictive bone in her body, would give him another chance.

  During the brief pause, she studied him, a frown dipped low between her eyes. He could almost see the war taking place inside her head but didn’t utter a sound or make a move, worried if he did either, she’d refuse.

  Finally, she took a deep breath as she came to a final decision. “Okay.”

  Carlos almost collapsed with relief.

  He entered her number into his contacts again and then immediately called her so she could have his number.

  “Will you be here for a little bit longer? I just got here,” Carlos said.

  “I got here maybe thirty minutes ago. I could stick around for a bit longer.”

  “I would like that. We could check out the exhibits together.”

  A small smile came to her face. “And you could educate me on all the things I don’t know about art.”

  He laughed softly, his body relaxing because being with Carmen made him feel as if nothing else mattered, and the weight of the world wasn’t so heavy after all. She’d always made him feel that way.

  “So you’re going to listen to me go on and on?”

  “Didn’t I always?”

  “Yes, you did. You were always very supportive, and I appreciated that.”

  She glanced down at her feet, as if embarrassed by the compliment. But what he said was true. She had always been supportive and simply encouraging.

  Other than his family, she was the one person he could count on to make him feel as if he wasn’t wasting his time with his dreams about being an artist. She made him believe that the talent he had acquired without any formal training was worth exploring and pursuing as a career.

  “Where do you want to start?”

  “How about right there?” She pointed at a woman drawing caricatures using charcoal.

  They strolled over to the booth and so began the night visiting with the vendors and buying gifts for themselves and family. They lingered at some tables longer than others, and sometimes Carlos talked shop with the other artists and explained a technique to Carmen when she inquired about a vendor’s handiwork. They indulged in the hors d’oeuvres, and when Carlos ran into people he knew on two separate occasions, he introduced them to Carmen by referring to her as a friend—a classification that didn’t come close to summing up how much she meant to him.

  A couple of hours later, they sauntered out of the warehouse and waited at the side of the road for Franklin to arrive.

  “That was nice,” Carmen said.

  “Yeah. Natalie did a good job.”

  She nodded, and in the silence, his mind raced with all kinds of thoughts, the main one being that he
couldn’t let her go without confirmation that she’d see him again.

  “Come by my apartment. I want you to see my work.” The light from the warehouse backlit them and cast her face in shadow.

  “I would like that,” Carmen said quietly.

  Anticipation built in his chest. “How about seven, Friday night?”

  “Seven is fine.” A soft smile touched her lips. Those luscious lips he longed to kiss.

  “Good.” He was too excited about the prospect of spending time with her alone and was a little embarrassed by how much he looked forward to it. “I’ll make dinner—lomo saltado.”

  At the mention of the typical dish from Peru, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know how to make that now?”

  “Yes, my mother finally parted with her recipe.” He smiled, which prompted the corners of her beautiful lips to lift, too. “I’ll text you the address.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re really coming, right?”

  “Yes, I’m coming,” Carmen said, the smile still firmly in place.

  The Navigator pulled up, but instead of having Franklin get out and open the door, Carlos did the honors.

  “Good night,” he said, looking down at Carmen.

  “Good night.”

  She stepped up on tiptoe, and he bent his head so she could plant a soft skin on his cheek. The whole side of his face heated with warmth.

  He helped her into the back of the vehicle with all her packages. “See you Friday night.”

  She nodded, and he closed the door.

  Carlos stared at the SUV as it rolled out of the parking lot. A second chance with Carmen. Could that really happen? He touched the spot where she’d kissed his cheek.

  Maybe.

  4

  As Franklin pulled to a stop in front of Carlos’s building, Carmen double-checked her make-up in her compact. Her lashes looked amazing, and her lipstick was on point. She’d left her hair loose in fluffy curls that framed her face and curled against her neck.

  Franklin rounded the front of the SUV and opened the door. She hopped out and looked up at his firmly set features, which were filled with disapproval.