Plain Fame Page 5

  Hesitantly, she shut her eyes.

  “Now, open your mouth,” he instructed her.

  Her blood seemed to race through her veins. It was his voice, so smooth and low, husky and musical. She realized that she had never been so taken with anyone in that way, and the feeling was frightening. He was in command, in complete control, and she knew that she would do what he said. With her eyes closed, she opened her mouth slightly and waited for what seemed like an eternity. But then she felt it. The soft warmth of the lobster was placed inside her mouth. She kept her eyes closed as she took the food from the fork, her hand slipping up to make certain the butter was not dripping on her chin. It was delicious. Absolutely divine, and her eyes flew open. They dazzled as she looked at him in complete amazement.

  “That’s wunderbar! I’ve never tasted anything like it!” she exclaimed.

  He laughed at her, setting the fork down on the side of the plate and getting up from the bed. “I knew you’d like that.” He stood at the bedside, looking pleased with himself. “You appreciate kindness, Amanda Beiler. That’s quite unusual.”

  She wiped her mouth with the napkin and looked at him, her eyes wide and bright. “Is it?”

  “From where I come from, sí.” He turned back toward the cart and opened a green bottle of sparkling water. With a grand gesture, he poured the water into two glasses and put lemon wedges in each. The bubbles fizzed as he handed one glass to her. “Cheers,” he said, tipping his glass against hers. “To going home, sí?”

  She wasn’t certain how to respond, so she sipped at the water. The bubbles tickled her nose. “Don’t you miss your home?” she asked.

  He walked over to the chair and sat down. “I’m not certain I even know where my home is, Amanda. I’m on the road so much. I have a condominium in Miami and another one in Los Angeles. When I travel, I’m usually at a hotel. I’m used to living out of a suitcase.”

  That didn’t sound like a life she’d ever get used to, she thought. “What about your family?”

  “My family?” he repeated, looking up at her with surprise on his face. “My mother lives in Miami. I bought her a house. She’s happy.”

  “That’s it?” She was taken aback by the flatness in his description of his family. She was also surprised to know that he had only one person who he considered family. “You have no other family? That’s so sad.” And she meant it.

  He shrugged. “I have a daughter.”

  Something changed in her expression. “A daughter?” She hadn’t thought to ask if he was married. “So she is in Miami with your wife?”

  Alejandro paused. He seemed hesitant, as if considering how to answer her question. When he responded, she knew why.

  “I’m not married, Amanda,” he confessed, “and I don’t know my daughter.”

  Her mouth dropped, but she quickly closed it and looked away. “Oh” was all that she could muster in response. Now she knew why Alejandro had hesitated. Clearly, he suspected her reaction to the truth. Even if Amanda disapproved of the divulgence, at least he chose honesty over lying to her.

  “I wasn’t raised like you, Amanda,” he said quickly, as if defending himself. “Growing up in Cuba is very different than in America, and when we first came here . . .” He stopped. He tried to find the right words. “Well, we had little more than each other and our faith in God to take care of us.” He waited until she looked up at him. “The streets of Miami are hard living, Amanda. I learned to survive, and that comes with a price. As does fame.” He paused. “Please don’t judge me.”

  “I would never!” she gasped. But then she quickly averted her eyes again. “I . . . I just wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I’m not the same man I once was,” he explained as he stood up and walked to the window. For a long while, he stared outside. It was a big world, and he didn’t have time for a family. He certainly didn’t have time for a child, and he hadn’t even known the mother. But how to explain that to a young Amish woman? “Things happen. I take care of them the best that I can. I send money. That’s all they want, actually.”

  “That’s just so very sad,” she repeated softly. His story tugged at her heart, and she felt as though she could cry for him. To think that people only wanted him for money?

  He turned around and forced a smile on his face. “Enough of that. Let’s talk about happy things, and I want to see you enjoying that delicious lobster. Do you need help getting more of the meat? The claws can be tricky,” he gushed, changing the subject and resuming his vivacious, charming self. But she could still sense the sadness beneath the surface. Despite his mischievous smiles and flashing eyes, there was something deeper to this Alejandro Diaz, and she was starting to hope that she’d get to discover it.

  He helped her crack the lobster claws, making a big show of trying to break through the shell. Her eyes flashed in astonishment, watching his every move, and the more she gasped, the more he pretended that it was difficult. When the shell finally split, she clapped her hands. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” she said breathlessly.

  “You’ve had fish, sí?”

  “Of course!” she said as if that was a silly question. “We go fishing in the stream behind our property all the time in the warm weather.” She smiled as if remembering a specific day. “There’s nothing like sitting on the bank of the stream and enjoying the cool afternoon breeze.”

  “Well,” he said, reaching for the small fork. “This is like a big fish. Just with a hard shell on the outside.” He showed her how to dig into it with the tiny fork. “And it tastes better, sí?” When the big, fleshy lump of meat popped out, some of the juices splattering onto her face, she laughed and started to reach for the napkin. But it was Alejandro who took it from her and dabbed gently at the moisture on her cheeks.

  The color rose to her cheeks again, and she looked away. Clearly, the attention that he was giving her made her uncomfortable, yet she didn’t know how to tell him to stop. She also didn’t know if she really wanted him to stop. He made her feel different from how any other Amish man had ever made her feel. She had attended singings for years and had even accepted rides home from several of the Amish young men. But she had never seriously courted anyone. There simply hadn’t been time.

  That had been part of the reason for the trip to Ohio, to get Anna and Amanda away from everything. Her parents had reasoned that the two girls needed a break, some time away from Lititz. The trip had been arranged over a six-month period of time during which Amanda had found herself increasingly despondent. She had never left her hometown before this trip. She didn’t want to leave home, not for any amount of time. However, she was excited for a couple things: the train ride and the layover in the Big Apple. She wanted to experience everything that she could: the people, the food, the sights, the sounds, even the smells. Her sister, however, had refused to leave the train station. So much for her exploration of New York City!

  If her parents had wanted Amanda to experience something different from Lititz, she hadn’t. Not in Holmes County. Despite trying to appear supportive for her sister, Amanda quickly realized that they had simply relocated from one farm to another.

  In truth, her cousin’s farm in Ohio was no different from her daed’s farm in Pennsylvania. Amanda had put on a happy face, especially when Anna started to show new sparks of life in her eyes and a bounce in her step. Amanda suspected that the neighbor had something to do with it, but she kept her suspicions to herself. After all, Anna was older, and it was well past the time for her to settle down. If she waited much longer, she’d be labeled a maedel, and that would hurt her prospects for getting married to a nice young Amish man. Instead, she’d be a prime target for widowers who might already have children and would certainly have established ways about them.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” His deep, husky voice broke through her mental wanderings, and she looked at him.

  “I was
thinking about home,” she replied, knowing that it wasn’t entirely true.

  “Ah,” he said. “Home. Yes, let’s talk about home.” He moved back over to the chair and sat down. “I spoke with your parents and . . .”

  “You spoke with my parents?” she interrupted. “How?”

  He rubbed his chin with his finger. “How?”

  “They are not like you with your cell phone that rings all the time,” she said lightly. “We don’t have a phone at our farm.”

  “I sent the police to your house,” he said. “I spoke to them on an officer’s cell phone.” He paused, and Amanda shut her eyes for a minute, trying to imagine her parents’ reaction to a police car pulling up their driveway and handing them a cell phone. “That was how they gave me your neighbor’s telephone number.”

  “The Zooks?”

  “Sí, the Zooks. They have a telephone, no?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “I’ve been speaking with your parents twice a day since you’ve been here, Princesa. I was sure that they were worried, and I wanted to make certain they knew that you were being cared for properly.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and she was speechless. For such a busy man, he had taken time out of his days to schedule calls with her parents? He had been updating them about her condition for three days now? And he was arranging for her trip back to Lititz? He hadn’t told her any of this before today. In fact, he hadn’t told her much of anything. Instead, his focus had always been on her and how she was faring. He had helped her with the crutches the day before when he stopped by in the morning. She had never thought to question him. People shared what they wanted to share, she told herself.

  “Why are you doing so much, Alejandro?” she asked quietly.

  He set his glass down on the cart and looked at her. She was watching him, her brown eyes so large and doe-like. Her hair was hanging over her shoulders, loose and wavy. He knew she was twenty years old from having reviewed her information with the doctor. Yet, there was a conflicting look about her. She was young and innocent looking, pure and natural. There was nothing worldly about this woman. Still, there was a sorrow about her that told him there was more to her than met the eye. “I know what it’s like to be alone, Princesa. I have been in similar situations, and no one ever came to help me. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

  Her expression changed as if a cloud passed overhead. There was a look of sadness in that moment when she lowered her eyes and softly said, “I’m sorry.”

  Alejandro gave a curious laugh. “For what?”

  “For any pain you have felt,” she responded and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. “Someone like you should never feel pain or sorrow.”

  He knew that she was also speaking from her own experience and not just about this accident with the broken leg. His jovial expression changed as he realized that there was something more to this young woman. Something deeper. And he was curious. What could have happened to her in the past that could make her, a young Amish woman, so aware of others’ personal pain?

  “Ay, mi madre,” he said under his breath.

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nada. Nothing.” He tried to break his gaze from hers, but couldn’t. There was just something so different about her, something he couldn’t quite comprehend. He was used to women who were so worldly. By contrast, Amanda was simply pure. He found that he wanted to know her and protect her. She was worth the effort. “Mañana is a big day, sí?” he finally said, breaking the silence and forcing a smile. “I take you home at last.”

  “Oh, that just sounds so wonderful,” she said, brightening a little. “Home.” The word rolled off her tongue as if she had just tasted some sweet candy. And she smiled.

  “Home,” he repeated. The word seemed to echo in his head. He wondered about his own home. The word conjured nothing in his mind. It was empty, void, a blank space. It was an endless streaming of hotel suites and strange people. Even when he was home, he felt out of place. He wondered what it would be like to actually feel a longing for home.

  Standing up, he moved over to the table and lifted a package from the corner.

  She hadn’t noticed it before, but now, as he walked toward her, she could see that it was a box with beautiful white wrapping and a big white-and-gold bow on it. She had never seen such an extravagantly wrapped box. Her eyes followed his movement as he paused, staring down at the box for just a moment, then turning around to approach her. He moved so smoothly across the floor, his body full of confidence and poise. Watching him gave her a small thrill, and she felt the color rush to her cheeks.

  “I have a little something for you, Amanda,” he said. She loved hearing him say her name: Aman-tha. He handed the package over to her, his blue eyes lit up with that mischievous smile on his face. “It is the perfect gift for saying good-bye to New York City and hello to Lititz.”

  Lowering her eyes, she whispered, “I can’t accept a gift from you.” Gifts were given between courting couples, not between strangers. The only gifts she had ever received had been cookbooks or sewing supplies for her birthdays, and those had been from her mamm.

  He reached out, put his finger under her chin, and gently lifted it so that she was forced to stare at him. When their eyes met, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “You will like this gift. I promise.” He pulled away and the package was mysteriously sitting on her lap. “Open it,” he instructed, his voice soft but firm.

  She wasn’t certain how to go about opening the box but finally settled on tugging at the end of the bow. Several pulls later, the bow slid free, and she was able to lift the lid of the box. Setting it onto the side of the bed, she pushed through the layers of silky white tissue paper. Her hands then stopped as she stared inside the box. For a moment, she caught her breath and didn’t know what to say. Never in her life had someone done something so thoughtful and kind for her.

  “I . . .” She started trying to form words, but instead her eyes welled up with tears. She looked up and stared at Alejandro. “I’m speechless.” She reached into the box and took out her white prayer kapp. It was cleaned, starched, and perfectly prepared as if she had done it herself. “How did you find this?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Did you see what else is in the box, Princesa?”

  Her eyebrows knit together, and she looked back into the box. There, at the bottom nestled amid the tissue paper, was a pair of dark black sunglasses. This time, the tears fell from her eyes, but Amanda laughed at the same time. Her joy radiated on her face as she looked up at him and smiled. Then, wiping at her tears, she pulled out the sunglasses and slid them over her eyes. “My sunglasses!” She looked up at him, beaming. “And they are just like yours!”

  He raised a hand as though to stop her in midsentence. “Almost like mine,” he corrected. “They are for a woman, no? A bit more petite and ladylike.”

  “How do I look?” she asked, pretending to pose with the glasses on and moving her head from side to side.

  “Magnificent!” He laughed at her, enjoying this playful side of Amanda. It amazed him that something so simple could bring her such joy. Not diamonds. Not fancy clothing or shoes. Just a $300 pair of Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses. He was touched that something so insignificant to him could mean so much to her. “I couldn’t let you leave the city without those sunglasses you wanted so much. After all, you threw yourself in front of my driver in order to get them!”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she was about to reply until she realized that he was just teasing her. Her eyes glimmered as she tried to hide a smile. Playing along with him, she raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness. “How else could I have received such a wonderful gift?”

  “The glasses?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied and reached down to knock her knuckles against her leg. “My cast!”

  This time, when he laughed, it came from deep within
him. A belly laugh. It had been ages since he had felt so jovial and alive. There was no pretense with this one, he thought, having enjoyed the playful banter with this surprisingly interesting young woman. “Sí, sí,” he said. “¡Claro! Your cast! That is the best gift of all!”

  “I shall treasure it for always,” she teased back. “And my glasses, too, of course.”

  “Ay, mi madre,” he said, laughter still in his voice. “You are something else, Princesa. Refreshing, no?” He leaned over and placed a friendly kiss on her forehead, ignoring the blush that covered her cheeks. “And tired, too, sí?” He started toward the door. “I will bid you good night as we have a big day tomorrow . . . getting you back home.”

  He knocked at the door, and the two men quickly reemerged to swoop away the remnants of the lobster dinner. Alejandro spoke to them in Spanish, and they nodded once before wheeling the cart back out of the room.

  Before leaving, he stood at the opened door and turned to her. “Sleep tight, Princesa.” With a quick wink, he disappeared through the doorway, and she was left alone.

  Stilling her beating heart, Amanda slid the sunglasses back on her eyes and reached down to hold her prayer kapp. She had thought it was lost, gone forever. His gift had truly taken her aback. The tenderness and thought that he had put into it touched her.

  Now that she was alone, she leaned back into her pillow and carefully held her kapp to her chest. Her mind raced through the events of the past hour, and she could barely imagine that something so magical had happened to her, Amanda Beiler. But she quickly reminded herself that he was not Amish and certainly not interested in the likes of a young Amish woman, no matter how much attention he bestowed upon her. Even still, when she finally drifted off to sleep, it was Alejandro Diaz’s face that she saw in her dreams.