Dirty Deeds(12)

“Who is this?” she asked, an edge of suspicion to her voice. That actually made me feel relieved. Alana needed protective friends.

“I don’t know,” Alana mumbled briefly in English. She gave me a crooked smile. “Who are you?”

I tried on an easy grin but I wasn’t sure if it was sitting right. I wasn’t used to smiling. “Derrin Calway,” I told her, extending my hand.

“Alana Bernal,” she said, shaking mine. Her palm was hot, her grip firm. Somehow it grounded me. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Calway. This bar is full of fucking idiots.”

She didn’t seem apologetic at all over her language. I liked that.

I gave her a nod. “No problem. Bars are always full of them.” I eyed her friend. “Tu nombre?” I asked her, butchering the language just enough.

She raised a strong brow. “You speak Spanish,” she said dryly. “How impressive. My name is Luz. Where are you from, Derrin?”

“Calgary, Alberta,” I answered. “It’s in Canada.”

“I know where it is,” Luz said quickly. “The whole of Puerto Vallarta is full of you Western Canadians.”

I shrugged. “What can I say, it’s a good place. Your English is very good, by the way.”

“We’re both flight attendants,” Alana said, leaning briefly against her friend in an affectionate way. “We have to know English to deal with drunken white boys.”

“Especially those who get too close,” Luz added although this sounded more like a threat. From the way she was staring at me, I had no doubt it was.

Time to play it cool.

“Well, have a good night.” I told them both with a quick nod and turned to head back to the bar. I’d only walked a few feet before Alana called out after me. “Hey!”

My heart stilled. It had been a gamble.

I turned and looked at her inquisitively.

In the dim light it was hard to tell if she was blushing or not. She attempted to walk over to me but Luz was immediately helping her along. “I was wondering if I could buy you a drink.”

I feared the smile on my face was actually genuine. “I’d love that. But I’ll be buying you a drink. You’re the one all bandaged up.” I pretended to look around the bar. “What will you have and where are you sitting?”

Alana jerked her head in the direction of their table. “Beer would be great. Any kind. And don’t forget Luz here.”

“How could I?” I asked playfully before heading toward the bar.

As I walked I heard Luz mutter something to Alana and Alana say “but did you see his muscles?” in response.

Once at the bar, I put in an order for four Pacificos, knowing there was a chance that her friend at the table would want one too, and took a moment to compose myself. The new plan was working but I still wasn’t sure what the outcome was or really why I was doing it. A tired voice in my head told me to be careful, to bring them drinks and at the end of the night walk away. Another voice wanted me to keep tabs on her and figure out her importance and how I could make it work to my advantage. Yet another voice told me to take her out back and do away like her like I was supposed to and collect on the rest of the money.

But I didn’t want to listen to the voices for once. I wanted to run on instinct and my instincts were telling me to take this slow and cautious, one step at a time. Eventually the purpose would become clear, like a diamond underneath.

When I brought the beers back, the three of them were looking up at me with wide smiles. Actually Luz had more of a discerning sneer and the other girl’s smile was strained and polite, but Alana’s was big and wide. It was the kind of smile that made you stare longer than you should, the kind that made even the most dead men feel alive.

Thankfully I was too dead for even that.

“Here you are ladies,” I said, placing the beers on the table.

“Did you drug them?” Luz asked as she carefully slid the beer toward her.

“Not enough time for that,” I told her as I pulled out a seat. “Besides, I know better than to tangle with Mexican girls.”

“You got that right,” Alana said. She raised her beer toward the middle of the table and said, “Here’s to our new Canadian friend.” She looked me in the eye, so direct and unnerving that I had to fight the urge to look away.

I clinked the neck of the bottle against theirs, making sure to look all of them in the eye. “And here’s to such friendly women in Puerto Vallarta.”

And with that, the conversation came relatively easy to us. I found out her other friend was Dominga, a hotel maid, who didn’t say much but was a lot more welcoming than Luz was. When the questions turned to me and what I did and what I was doing here, I told them a bunch of half-truths. My whole life seemed to be built on half-truths.