*****

Tea skipped her morning workout, something that was a rarity. Once she had a schedule, she preferred to stick to it. One day wouldn't hurt, she'd make it up later, running longer, lifting heavier, pushing herself just a little bit further.

Gradually, Todd was sucking her back into his life. It wasn't what he said, or what he did, it was what he didn't say, and he didn't do. He didn't ask for another chance, nor did he express some grand gesture of proving he had changed. In fact, he seemed to try and hide the changes that he had undergone in the time he had been away from Llanview. The main one being his apparent drug use.

She could smell it all on him, in his clothes, his hair, even in his skin. He wasn't ashamed, nor did he try to mask its potent scent. Obviously, he had not tried using Visine to "get the red out" of his pinkish colored eyes. She had read about marijuana sometimes easing the pain for some illnesses, but she couldn't remember which. It could have been doctor recommended, but Todd never listened to doctors; he never listened to anybody.

What he was or was not doing, was no longer any of her business. Unfortunately, it didn't stop her from caring or wanting the best for him. She was just that type of person, the kind to care, the kind to love forever. There was nothing wrong with her caring, she would just have to do it from afar.

Let him deal with his shit, I have my own problems to worry about.

"Morning Caitlin, how are you?" Tea asked, stopping to get her messages.

"I'm doing okay. You?"

"Good." Tea flipped through the pink pieces of paper, mentally prioritizing each message. She didn't want to deal with any clients, or family for that matter. Carlotta, Roseanne, they had been trying to reach her for days. Dealing with them took too much energy lying took too much out of her.

"Um, Ms. Delgado, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She continued to flip through her messages, while listening to Caitlin.

"I have a problem, and I really don't have anybody to discuss it with. I was wondering if you had some time to listen?" Caitlin had been meaning to talk to her boss for a while, but she was too distracted most of the time. It was a good day to approach her; she seemed less inaccessible.

"Sure, come on in my office."

"Okay, thanks."

Tea walked over to her desk and dropped her briefcase on top of her pile of work. Her practice was growing to a point where it was unmanageable for just one person. She was going to have to start turning away potential clients, or hire another attorney. She shook her head at the pile, scratched her head, and then returned her attention to Caitlin. "Why don't we sit on the couch."

"This is so strange, talking to you like this," Caitlin said nervously.

"I don't bite, Caitlin. It may seem that way at times, but I always have time to talk to you."

"Thanks. Um, I have a problem with my ex-boyfriend."

"Uh huh."

"We broke up a little over a year ago, but I still love him. We talk and stuff all the time, and I keep thinking that maybe we can try it again."

"Why did you break up in the first place?" Tea had no desire to hear about someone else's love life, not when hers had gone so wrong. No one in their right mind would come to a person like her and ask for relationship advice; she'd just fuck them up.

"The usual, other girls, immaturity, on his part of course."

"You think he's no longer a womanizer and that he's matured in one year?"

"He seems different. You don't think it's possible that he's changed?"

Change? What is change? People don't just change for the better, Caitlin. Men don't just change. They play you like a violin; they promise to love you, to be with you, to make you happy. And the moment you believe them, the moment you LET YOUR GUARD DOWN, they go back to fucking you over. The only thing that changes is their tactic to getting you back. Oh, little girl, you have so much to learn.

"I mean, he's really trying, you know?"

"Caitlin, the only advice I can offer you is what everybody has told me follow you heart." They say "follow your heart," but the minute you do, they criticize your decision. Tell you your heart is all-wrong. Like it's diseased or something, then it becomes, "don't trust your heart, trust us." "The heart is not always right, but you have to do what you think is best for you."

"I don't know what's best for me."

"Whatever makes you happy, Caitlin. Whatever makes you happy is what's best for you."

*****

Tea's afternoon was packed with appointment after appointment, leaving her with zero time to think. She reclined in her chair, exhausted after her day of dealing with people. First Todd, then Caitlin, followed by steady stream of pesky clients. It was all so nerve-racking, pretending to be this happy person, who wanted nothing more than to serve them. Faking it.

Reclining in her chair, she propped her feet on the table and let herself have a little "downtime." Exhaling, she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of an empty office. The humming of her water filter, the whirring of her mini refrigerator, the little creaks and cracks that "just happen" in the night.

The sounds began to irritate her, the big city version of the incessant chirping of the cricket. Irritating annoying eerie. She opened her eyes, to the bright fluorescent light that shone above her. When she was a child, she had dreamed of having a big, corner office, filed with fluorescent lights, a television, a bar, and all the other "toys" that executives kept behind their large, oak doors. As an adult, those same dreams remained very much a part of her. So, when she selected her office, she made sure it was large, had plenty of "play" space, a big oak door, a bar and all those other goodies that she thought made the executive.

She had the big screen television, nestled safely inside an entertainment center. There was a state of the art Bose sound system right next to the television. A fully equipped wet-bar, filled a space in the corner. The perfectly designed, Feng Shui, executive office.

She turned on her stereo, using the remote that she kept on her desk. There was a fifty-disc cd changer, which was always loaded. A person could look at the discs in her changer and think that three or four people built her cd library.

She was in the mood to dance, to release the tension that was knotting her muscles. Her favorite type of music was the same thing she grew up listening to, salsa. Not the Ricky Martin "pop salsa" flavor, but the real deal, straight from Puerto Rico, Spanish lyrics, heart thumping beats supplied by the bass drum. The seven-plus minute, blood-pumping salsa.

She heard the discs spinning in the player, on random then the soft boomboomboomof the drums. Her body started to react to the infectious sounds her feet tapped to the beat. She kicked off her shoes and moved around, awakening those long forgotten feelings of a good dance.

Too much time had passed since she last let herself completely lose control to the music. She would go to bars and dance, but she was always restrained by something. Most likely the closeness of partners, her unfamiliar partners, made her hold back.

She danced around her office, freely, arms flailing. Let the music take control of her, everything else flowed out of her body. Her feet had not forgotten a step, as if she had danced every day of her life. She was so free.

Her brothers used to tease her about her dancing. Called her Ms. Hot Foot, or something close to it. She couldn't hear music without moving her body to the beat. Her mother was like that; she would feel the music and start swaying. When it was just the two of them at home, when Tea was two or three, her mother would turn the stereo up real loud, grab her hands, and the two of them would dance and laugh without a care in the world. It was their only luxury, the one nice thing they owned.

Annarosa was a great dancer. In Puerto Rico, she was the best in their town, winning contest after contest. People said she moved like an angel, like could float away. She had hoped that Tea would live her dream and become a dancer. Ballet, jazz, flamingo, tap, tango, salsa, meringue, she wanted her daughter to know it all, so she signed her up for lessons behind her father's back.

Leon hated music. Leon hated just about everyone and everything. He called that "noise" the devil's music and forbade it in his house. Oh, they could keep the stereo, but it was never to be played in his presence. Annarosa had to sneak Tea to dance lessons, hide her special shoes and clothes.

She had the gift, just like her mother. Dancing came easily, her moves as fluid as her instructors had ever seen. They said she had a real "gift," that if she stuck with it, there were no limits to how far she could go. "She's going to be a star," they said with such conviction that she too, began to believe it.

As she remembered it, after her mother left so did her desire to make her hobby something more. The lessons stopped, the hours of practice ceased, her passion faded. She still loved moving, that had never changed, what had changed was its venue. Instead of the studio, she danced in her bedroom, or, as she got older, at parties. Music was a part of her until she assimilated into the real world.

After starting her law career, she pretty much gave up dancing altogether. As she was told very early in he career, you have to "project an image of success in order to become a success. Every move you make is being watched, you are being judged at everything you do." Tea knew what that meant, become a stuck up bitch and don't embarrass the firm. Play by the rules and you'll win the game. No fun allowed. Fuck your Hispanic roots. That's not acceptable. Become them and you'll be a success.

She ran the show now. Hers were the rules of survival. Have fun. Lie. Cheat. Steal. Fuck 'em over, that's what's acceptable. Be whatever you have to be to win. Win at all costs. And if she wanted to dance, damn it, she was going to dance.

She turned the volume up a little bit louder, letting it control her. If only Caitlin knew what went on behind Tea's oak door, long after she had gone home. No one would have guessed that the "bitch" on the top floor could move with such abandon, smiling the entire time.

She had always desired a man whose body could match hers rhythmically. A man that could really dance, really let lose, allow himself to lose complete control. But no, she got stuck with those men who were either too cool to move, or couldn't find the beat to save their lives. She didn't know what category Todd belonged in.

Antonio could move. He was a giving partner, letting the woman have her turn in the spotlight, but his hips never stopped swiveling. He was loose. He just wasn't her type. Not bad enough, too controlling, too domineering.

Todd. How do you move, huh? Do you rotate those hips? Would you let me lead you on the floor? We could have been magic together, me showing you, teaching you how to let loose. Me losing control right along with you.

Her happiness faded just as quickly as it had appeared. Not even dancing could pull her from the sadness that was filling up her heart. She lay down on her couch, resting her head on its arm.

She had made such a mess of her life, ruining it. Living it for "mami," "papi," "Todd," and anyone else that paid her the slightest bit of attention. She did everything for love, but they never loved her. They used her, they took from her, they sucked those characteristics that made her unique, from her body and replenished it with what they wanted her to be. She let them. I'll become what you want, if you love me.

She never wanted to love another person or anything thing for as long as she lived. With love came a pain that she was not sure she could ever endure again. It was better to be alone than to risk her heart. Just as she had closed her eyes, her telephone rang. She looked at her watch, wondering who would be calling her at the office so late.

"Delgado and Associates," she answered, yawning into the receiver.

"Tea oh thank god. Mija, I have been trying to reach you," Carlotta said, relieved.

Shit! "Oh, I've been really busy, with work and all. How are you?"

"Oh, Tea, a lot has been going on."

"Like what?"

"Christian and Roseanne. You haven't talked to her?"

"I really haven't had time to talk to much of anybody."

"Well, she has told Christian that she is carrying his child and now she's trying to blackmail him into staying married to her."

And that's my problem? Maybe you should just butt out of your grown son's life. "I guess a lot has been going on."

"Christian is so lost. She said if he doesn't stay married to her, she's going to have an abortion. An abortion! That is an unforgivable sin."

Like sleeping with Hank without being married isn't a sin...uh hello - fornication. What a fucking hypocrite!

"What do you want me to do about it? They are adults-"

"They're still so young. That girl has had no guidance in her life, and now she's trying to ruin-"

Tea and Roseanne had their share of problems, but they were still blood. Carlotta had the nasty habit of getting involved in things that she had no business getting involved in. It annoyed her when she was younger; it annoyed her as an adult. "Carlotta, Christian is just as responsible as Roseanne. Don't try to make it seem like he was so nave and didn't know what he was doing. He knew, as did she. It is their responsibility, not ours, not yours to judge. Let them work it out between them. If Roseanne decides to have an abortion, it is her decision, our opinions are irrelevant."

"Tea, you know how she can be, you know how manipulative she can be. She was raised a Catholic, abortion is not accepted in the church."

"A lot of things are not accepted in the church. If Roseanne contacts me and asks me for advice, I will offer it. Until then, I am staying out of it."

"The Tea I know would step in and straighten out her niece."

"Maybe you never knew the real Tea. Maybe you only had a vague idea of the real Tea." Her bitterness crept into her voice, silencing Carlotta. "Listen, I have to get back to work."

"Tea, what has happened to you?"

"Nothing. I'm just being me."