"Aleja Belasco"
The wisdom of old age is a curse and a blessing. So many things I would do again, for pleasure or for redemption. If I could turn a dial and go back, the first thing I would do is return to the year 1952.
It was the year that I met the most beautiful woman in the world - Aleja Balasco.
I met Aleja at the Los Jardines, a restaurant inside the Tropicana, one of the most popular nightclubs in the lively, beautiful city of Havana, Cuba.
It was a year before the Cuban Revolution began. No one, not even myself, knew that it was the last year before the beautiful country would change forever in years to come.
I was vacationing there, having needed a break from running my family's oil business in the states. Havana was always my choice to a getaway. The culture was vibrant, and the nightlife was endless and riveting.
Even as someone as introverted as me - the energy was calming. It was an environment where everyone could just be themselves - just have fun.
One Saturday night at the Los Jardines Restaurant, Nat King Cole was headlining the show.
I'll never forget the song that Mr. Cole was singing: Unforgettable.
After meeting Aleja, it took some years to realize how much of a reality the song would be for me for years to come.
After all, Aleja Belasco was anything but forgettable.
I remember first laying eyes on her. Beautiful can't begin to express how jaw-dropping my Aleja was. She had these big brown eyes that were always intense. They could make you feel small when she was angry or on the moon when she was ecstatic.
Her skin was a beautiful shade of mahogany, her lips like the doll of porcelain. She never wore too much make-up - just enough to enhance.
Aleja's hair was always pinned up-. She preferred it to be out of her face. It also heightened her cheekbones and highlighted her espresso-brown eyes.
As I enjoyed a glass of Cuban rum at the bar, I noticed her across the room. She was sitting with her family, just as captivated by Mr. Cole's voice as everyone else.
She was so focused on Mr. Cole that she didn't notice me staring like some creep plotting his kidnapping plan.
I was shy back then - awkward.
I still beat myself up about it now.
Even though I'd forced myself to look away, my eyes always landed back on her.
Aleja still hadn't noticed, which I was thankful for. Yet, at the same time, I was hurt. Being the quirky, introverted man I was, the only way to get a woman's attention was to flaunt my inheritance.
After I finished my drink, I was ready to go back to my place.
I was ready to spend my night thinking about the pretty girl at the Tropicana until she became a distant memory.
Then to my surprise - she looked.
When a waiter had come over to refill her glass, for some crazy reason, I'll never know, and I'd never asked: she looked at me.
My Aleja looked at me, and she smiled warmly.
I gave a toothy one in return - thankful that I came from a family with good teeth. I even raised my glass at her. I was trying not to look like my heart wasn't trying to burst its way out of my chest.
