11 chapter 11

The Spanish festival. Though she didn't have an ounce of Latin blood in her veins, Nickola always felt at home at the Spanish festival. She loved everything about the Hispanic culture and made it a point to come to the festival every year during Hispanic month. Her passion developed when she was a small child. There was something about the hospitality they offered and she always had the most welcoming encounters. She often felt included as if she were part of the family. She and Zara meet Miles at the front entrance.

"No Devaun today?" Nickola asks.

"I was supposed to have him but his uncle's visiting from out of town. I'll see him on Tuesday."

"Oh. Zara you remember my friend? We saw him at the grocery store," she says looking at Zara.

"Mm...not really," Zara says with her eyebrows pulled together.

"This is Miles."

"Hi," Zara says shyly.

"Hi," he smiles.

"Let's go find Ros. I think she said she'll be at the stage."

Past the entrance are vendors on each side selling clothes, jewelry, toys, and other handmade items. At the end of the vendors are ATM kiosks. There is a large open area with chairs and a stage. Next to the stage is a large rubber like wood dance floor. It's a cool morning and partly cloudy. Nickola scans the crowd and doesn't find Ros. She pulls out her phone and calls, "Hey we're here by the stage area. What side are you sitting on?" Nickola sees a woman flailing her arms in the air and realizes it's Ros. They walk over to join them. She is with Juan and their two daughters. Nickola introduces Ros and Juan to Miles. Ros hugs Zara and greets Nickola by touching her cheeks to Nickolas and making a kissing sound. She is wearing a black v-line dress shirt with ruffles at the collar and sleeves. Blue jeans show off her full figure finished with a pair of black heels. The band announces the next song.

"Miles do you salsa?" Ros ask grabbing Juan by the hand and pulling him out to the wood like rubber floor.

Miles shakes his head no.

"Just give it a try," Nickola says.

"You go," he says smiling.

"Okay," Nickola takes Zara's hand and they dance alongside Ros and Juan.

Mid song Nickola waves for Miles to come and join them but he shyly declines. Ros's daughters cut in with her and Juan dancing. Ros then turns to dance with Nickola, spinning Zara as a third person to dance with Juan and their daughters. He watches as Ros spins Nickola. Her hips swing from side to side.

The song ends and they return to join Miles. "If that were me I would have stepped all over your feet," he chuckles. "You've been taking classes? You look like a natural out there."

"A natural? I don't know about that. I took a few classes in the past," she says proudly.

"Mom can we get our faces painted and then go play in the bouncy houses?" Zara ask looking at the girls.

Nickola takes the children while Ros and Juan stay for more music and dancing. The girls wait patiently, watching as the children seated get their faces painted.

"Would you ever go to a salsa class?" she ask Miles.

"You mean with you or sign up for lessons?"

"With me. Just one time," she holds up one finger.

"I'd rather watch. Dancing is not really my thing," he says not wanting to let her down. "Tell you what. Come to my place. We'll have dinner and then you can put on your favorite salsa song on and you can teach me."

"I just may hold you to that," she says satisfied with his suggestion.

The girls show off the butterfly paintings on their cheeks and run to the bouncy houses. On the way there Nickola sees Devaun walking with a woman, man, and a young child.

"I thought he was supposed to be with your brother today," a confused Miles says to the woman.

"Don't start Miles," she says rolling her eyes.

Nickola sensing the tension says, "I'll meet you at the bouncy house."

Devaun, the man, and young child all step back to give Miles and the woman space to talk.

"You lied to me and you expect me not to be upset," he says trying to stay calm.

"I don't want my son around these women." She gives Nickola a nasty look.

"Women? It's one woman and I know what your trying to do. Is your brother even in town?"

She looks off to the side.

"Trina!" his eyes go wide. "I won't give up my weekend again." He walks away joining Nickola and the children.

"Everything okay?" Nickola ask concerned.

Miles sighs, "That's Trina my ex-wife. She lied about her brother being in town and this was supposed to be my weekend."

"Can you swap and get him next weekend?"

"If I try I know it's going to be a fight," an upset look on his face.

"Is there any other day you can see him?" trying her best to be helpful.

"The agreement is every other weekend and every Tuesday," defeat in his tone.

"Three more days," Nickola says looking down. "It was nice of you to give up your weekend."

"I hope Devaun doesn't think I did it because I didn't want to see him."

"I think he understands," Nickola tries to assure him.

"Mom we're hungry," Zara says running up to them.

They go back to the area with the band to rejoin Ros and Juan. Everyone goes for something to eat at the food booths.

"You missed it, we bumped into the ex-wife," Nickola says in a low voice to Ros.

"Mama drama, I told you," Ros says shaking her head.

After enjoying some tacos al pastor, papa rellenos, and rice and beans the two groups part ways.

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Later that afternoon. Nickola drops Zara for an overnight stay with her grandparents. She could no longer fight the urge to see Herring.

"Hello?" Herring answers on the other line of the phone.

"Hi, are you busy?" she ask.

"Not really," his voice unsure.

"I could come over and we could order some food?"

"Just the two of us?" now sounding surprised.

"Yeah," her voice perky.

"Okay, where should I order from?"

"I'm in the mood for chili's ribs unless you wanna eat from somewhere different."

"Chili's is good," excitement in his tone.

"Cool. I'll take some fries and coleslaw on the side please."

"Anything else?" a smile in his voice.

"That's it. So what time should I be at your place?"

"How about six?"

"Okay. See ya at six," Nickola says ending the call.

As Nickola takes the elevator to the third floor she is flooded with nervousness and excitement as if she were going on her first date. The smell of fresh rain fills the hallway.

"You can smell that candle from the first floor," she says as Herring opens the door.

"I hope that's a good thing," he says frowning.

"It is," she says walking in.

He is wearing black fitted jeans and a black Dolce and Gabbana t-shirt. His hair is styled nicely. A few strands of hair falling to the side of his head. The music is playing so low that Nickola can hardly tell what genre it is.

"I can put on something different if you like," he says noticing Nickola straining her ear to hear the music. "What type of music do you listen to?"

"How about Chris Brown?"

He changes it and turns it up a notch higher. Nickola sits at the dining room table where Herring has plated the food.

"You put the food on plates," she says impressed.

"I want it to feel like it's not take away."

Nickola chuckles. "Sorry. Take out," he corrects himself and smiles. "Would you like some," he shows her a bottle of wine.

She looks at it a moment before answering, "Sure."

"Are you? You hesitated," he raises an eyebrow.

"It's just that... I'm not much of a drinker."

"No pressure."

"No, please I'll take some," she insist.

He pours them both a half glass of wine and grabs a bottle of water for Nickola. Over dinner Nickola talks about the Hispanic festival, being sure to leave out the part about Miles. Herring talks about his trip to L.A. After dinner, Herring clears the table and joins Nickola on the couch leaving a little space between them.

"Thanks for dinner," Nickola says.

"Thank you for finally agreeing." They both smile.

"Herring," she pauses. "I don't know if we should make this a frequent thing. How is this supposed to work?"

"You're still worried about what Vanessa will think," he states plainly.

"And I'm so much older," she takes a sip of wine.

He places his glass on the coffee table. "I hope this doesn't sound weird but I've always found you attractive. Years ago when I first met you, there was something about how kind and loyal you were and I believe still are." Nickola furrows her brows.

"Is it that you're older or my being younger that bothers you most?" he ask.

"A little bit of both. And fear that as I age the younger girls will appeal to you more. Eventually I want something long term," she puts her glass on the table.

Herring turns his body in the direction of Nickola closing the gap between them.

"This is not a game for me Nickola," he looks into her eyes and puts his hand on her knee. "I want the chance to get to know you more."

She couldn't tell if it was the light from the candle or the electric fireplace that suddenly created a sultry atmosphere making him dangerously good looking. His eyes now emeralds in the dim light, pleading for her lips. His hand holds her chin in place as he presses his lips slowly against hers. Nickola's hand goes to the nape of his neck and she softly sucks on his bottom lip. Their faces pull away simultaneously and Nickola looks down keeping her eyes closed. Her feelings for him seem to be deepening in that moment. She opens her eyes and looks at him. He searches her face for a response.

"I have to confess," she says. "I have a nose fetish."

"That is not what I expected you to say," completely thrown off guard.

Nickola chuckles. "Your nose is like an aphrodisiac."

"Is it?" he says taking the back of her hand and making circles with his nose on it.

"Stop," she squeals trying to pull her hand away.

"What do you like most about it?" he holds her hand firmer moving his nose vertically on it.

"Stop it!" she giggles.

He releases her hand and they both look at each other laughing. She rests her head on his shoulder. He puts his arm around her and pulls them so their backs are against the couch. He gently rubs her shoulder and they sit quietly. After some time Nickola says, "I'm gonna get going."

"It's only nine," he looks at the time on his phone.

"If I don't leave now I'll..." she trails off.

"You'll what?" he takes her hand and traces the bridge of his nose with her index finger.

"I," she smiles wide. "Should go."

Unable to persuade her he says, "I'll walk down with you."

When they get to Nickola's car she looks as if she wants to say something. But the look in Herring's eyes is too great and full of passion. No words can come, only a sigh escapes her mouth. She gives him a hug, which turns into a full on embrace. He takes her hand and kisses it.

"Goodnight," he says before turning on his heel.