"Yay! Now we can really have some fun," Laura says lips glossed with Brandi's pussy juice.
"I'll be back, ladies," I tell them. The reality is I won't return until they're hopefully done.
"What? Wait, Franco, don't go," Brandi sits up. And my last vision is the moon highlighting a perfect airstrip landing between her creamy white thighs before I step around a bunch of bright purple flowers and amble down the long flight of stairs.
Okay, game plan. Angelique is probably hanging out with her homegirl, I consider while taking the steps two at a time. It's just past nine. They might still be out. I'll try her bungalow again then head to the bar at the inn. And then after that? I'll try her bungalow until she answers. As I walk through the sand, I pat my pockets considering I might come off as less of a creeper if I leave a note with my number.
Shit, my pockets are bare save for keys, my wallet, phone and I guess a gum wrapper. If push comes to shove, my uncle Juan will sneak into the database, without my aunt's knowledge and provide Angelique's number.
After the two-mile walk, I reach the bungalows, sporadically lining the coast. The adrenaline and uncertainty in my chest fades as I notice lights are on in Angelique's place. As I get closer, laughter comes from the open windows of the living room. She's here.
I stand before the window, getting ready to walk up the passage way, and then hear my name being called.
"Selena?" I peer through the darkness. She's about twenty yards away. Shit, if I appear to be some sort of peeping tom to the general population, Selena is on my level. I walk toward her.
"I thought that was you, Don Franco."
Instead of asking why she's lurking around in the dark, I shrug nonchalantly. "Yup, it's me."
"What are you doing over here? Taking a walk," she asks expectantly.
"Yeah, just a walk." I reply, deciding not to step toward Angelique's door.
"No, you're not just walking. You're... You came by to see Angelique. She did miss the celebration this evening." Selena tsks, "and Jelly wanted to make paella, too. She told me so as we went over the planned menu while going out to lunch after the first cooking session. But I'm sure not as much as she wanted to prepare for her bachelorette party."
My eyebrow rises, as at first I'm blinded by curiosity. Then I check myself before Selena can know that I give a damn. No emotion at all I casually repeat, "Her bachelorette party?"
"Angelique, si." Those eager little eyes of Selena are ready to drink up any cue I have to give.
"Jel – Angelique is getting married?" I'm fucking floored right now.
"But of course. His name is," she snaps her fingers. "Carlton."
My jaw clinches. Selena knows about Carlton El Cabrón so this must be true.
"They've been together for a while now. Why did you think Angelique was here? She came early. Her friends even invited me to join them in Madrid tomorrow. But wait, why are you so interested in Angelique?"
My tone is calculating, dead even. "Selena, I already told you I was just passing by. You stopped to chat about your friend. You done?"
"All right, Don Franco! Must you be so fucking indifferent to me?"
"I've been cordial. Now if you're finished gossiping about your friend … " I start to back away.
"Yes, Angelique is my friend. There's nothing like meeting people on vacation." Selena shakes that thought out of her head. Angelique is not her topic of interest. It appears the previous undertones of jealousy on her part have fizzled. She pouts, "So, when you are ready to talk about us – "
"Us! There was once a day when nothing in this world could come before you, Selena." My hands go up for emphasis. It's not that Selena has provoked me, or even has a power of me anymore. I'm just astonished the shit hasn't sunk in. "You act like I'm the one missing you, when it's you." I almost laugh at the thought but my blood is boiling. Not because I have an ounce of feelings for this woman before me. She taught me a lesson. It was a year into my come up as a chef. Without even two pennies to rub together, I already had in mind the type of engagement ring that I'd get Selena.
She was the only thing I never placed before becoming a chef. Shit, I asked her to run away with me, climb the latter of success with me. And I don't know if the distance came between us, or how low a person has to go before making it to fame, because I barely could afford to feed myself, let alone her. But we were young then, at the age of nineteen, invincibility or failure can be the only thought. I chose to become invincible. I'm not even sure Selena believed in my dreams. One day, I return to Spain and see her with our old friend, Miguel. He had a contract back then, and even came out with a CD. Now he's back at the cantina with his trusty guitar.
I step past Selena, and start toward the Inn. I need a drink. A real fucking drink. There's only import beer and the weak shit the girls brought to my place.
And the girls!
Fuck me. I don't feel like banging Laura nor Brandi this evening. So I'll hit up my uncle Juan's stash.
"The game didn't change, Franco. You just misplaced the rules. I'm sure you've had your share of taken women..."
As I walk, I try to read between the lines. Those were Angelique's words. Maybe my game has been switched to auto for a while now. Maybe the lust in her eyes, the night on the town, it was all just a last hurrah before settling down. Having to pick up her friend from the airport saved her from a stupid one-night stand many weak people succumb to before marriage. But I can still feel her warm, soft body. My hands recall the touch of that voluptuous ass. With Lido it was sex. She had this ‘fuck me anytime' persona, and out of this world head game. In the back of my mind a future wasn't even part of the plan. Like Angelique said, I projected fatigue from work onto a sex demon.
With Angelique …
Shit, I'm off my game for a chick that I haven't even slept with. My head cocks to the side, as Eduard stands on the veranda with a Bluetooth glued to his ear. I start up the stairs.
"Get the fuck outta here! This is business." Eduard punches at the air, passing back in forth like a panther. Then he notices me. "I'm gonna have to call you back."
As Eduard pulls the bud from his ear, I point at my friend. "How would it look for you to return home one day, another man has inserted himself in your position? He's attending Kyra's ballet class or George's … or Kyra's tap dancing class if she added a little pep to her step."
Eduard's so baffled that his mouth opens and closes. He's no longer the fast talker, trying to make a deal.
"Man, would you be cool with that shit! Si or no?"
Eduard rubbed the back of his neck. His tone his heavy laden, "Not one goddamn bit."
"Bueno. I almost lost faith in you, amigo. Take them now. Take your family, give them some motherfucking attention for once. Three weeks."
His pale eyes are wide as saucers as he mentally calculates how long that is. Eduard had long ago forgotten how to treat his family to a nice day let alone be in their company for a few weeks. Like myself, Eduard was on a come up too. I was his first client. I saw myself as a star, he mirrored my vision. Shit, he's been working us to the bone. Television shows. Commercials. Restaurants. He'd started on a possible wine company before trying to convince me at Reality TV.
"Three weeks?" He breaths the words, unable to wrap his head around it.
"Tres, tres," I hold up two fingers, and command, "Tres semanas, three weeks – does two languages get that though your shaggy ass head?"
"All right, done."
"Then when we get back to Manhattan set up a meeting with the top dogs. You make them grovel, I'll return to ‘Sizzling Latin Nights,'" I mention the summer love segment that catered around sexy drinks and grilled meats, in the evening.
Eduard does a fist pump, "Heck yeah, I'll have them groveling. You know in August, the relay is back – "
I point between us, "See this isn't how shit's going down, Ed. I say Sizzling Latin Nights. You take it. Or, it's your fucking prerogative to leave it. That's the only negotiable part. If I say I'll return to that fucktard relay show then … "
"I'll take it!" He nods slowly. "Got it."
I pat my friend's shoulder with a heavy sigh. "Strides, Eduardo – I mean, Ed," I give a soft chuckle remembering offering my manager's name to Angelique. "Now, I have two beautiful women who'd like to service me … in which I need to figure out how to rid myself of."
His eyebrow cocks.
"Yeah, rid myself. It's a long story. You, on the other hand, have some travel arrangements to make. And no trek up Europe, but something to do with Disney. But before that, we need a stiff drink first."