When Juan broke free from me to fetch some refreshments, I was stuck around people who heavily engaged conversations in Spanish. I let my mind wander, gauging the kind of crowd Juan circled himself with.
The women here wore a lot of formal, sexy dresses, but I could only count a few with mini dresses like mine. Why was that? It was hot as balls here.
I suppose that was where cultures contrasted. The glitz and glam in this awe-inspiring city wasn't what I was accustomed to back in LA. While folks over there obsessed with vanity and capturing the perfect selfie, I was stunned to find the stark comparison with the Spanish crowd. Sure, there were a few vain people, but what good a party would it be without those self-indulgent individuals?
A lot of the women had class and decorum, not the faux kind, but the kind that was instilled and bred.
It had to be the Catholic upbringing. I mean, what else could it be? While I adored and supported the one-love hugs and kisses for all mankind Hollywood mentality, sometimes it was refreshing to find this sort of world existed. It was a novelty.
Oh, they had sluts here, too, but there was disparity. LA sluts were raunchy; you could easily spot one coming from a mile. Barcelona sluts were still raunchy, yet they did it with a flair of sophistication. A classy slut. Ha! Imagine that.
There was laughter to my right, so my gaze shifted to the couple who gave off the impression that they were in their honeymoon phase. She sat on his lap, both touchy-feely and had that glassed-eyed look of a newly budding intimacy. Seeing them so enthralled with each other made me think of River. He had arrived around midnight, which was two hours ago. Was he asleep, or was he partying like I was?
Lost in thought, I barely realized someone had joined me and took Juan's spot on the round lounger.
"You American?" A six-foot-five hulk of a man nudged my arm, making me scrunch my nose in protest the second I detected a hint of putrid breath.
Sheesh. How did he have the audacity to spark a conversation when he could make people faint with a simple whiff of gingivitis?
"American girls are easy." The burly ogre, red-eyed and sweaty showed me a maniacal grin.
American girls are easy, right.
"Does that line even apply to you? Because with that revolting breath, American or not, they'd run the other way." I threw him a disgusted look before I staunchly got to my feet and began to make my way towards the same direction Juan had taken.
How long did it normally take to get a drink? Did he have to hike Mount Kilimanjaro to get them? He'd been gone about half an hour now. Where the heck was he?
Folks around the pool lounge area were the ones smoking the ganja. Everyone was lit and stoned out of their wits. Where in God's name was Juan? My heart skipped a beat, wondering if the man hooked up with another woman and left me here to my own devices. My mind was busy conjuring up scenarios until my eyes landed on the backside of Juan conversing with another woman. And just then, the said woman flickered her gaze towards me, catching me intimately studying them. I supposed she mentioned something to Juan because he pivoted his body in my direction across the pool.
I would've left him alone with her, but the man encouraged me to join them.
Who was she? If she turned out to be his ex, it'd be an interesting evening.
Licking my lips, I strode in their direction.
"Cara, lo siento, I was about to come get you when I saw my sister. Juana, this is Cara. Cara, this is my stubborn sister, Juana."
"I've been wanting to meet you," Juana gushed as gave me a tight hug, catching me by surprise. "I've watched your show. I'm a fan." Just like her brother, she had an expressive face and was blessed with the same laidback manner that put a new acquaintance at ease.
Juan apologized again as he handed me a berry champagne drink.
"Has my brother been a good boy?" Juana took a good whiff of her rolled joint before beaming at me while smoke billowed out of her pillowy lips. "He's popular and loves women. Mama hates that her son is a playboy, but he's not married, so I think that's acceptable. Are you loving Spain? Is River Ellis planning to visit you? Oh, I'd love to meet him, please? I'm crazy for him." she exclaimed with the same jovial energy, to which her brother chided her for being so insane.
"Estás loca, Juana. Por favor, no avergonzarme!"
Juan was red with embarrassment, but if I thought Juana was going to back down, I was proven wrong. The woman was a spitfire. She chewed her brother out, making him spin on his heels and murmur that he required more alcohol if he had to deal with a psychotic sister.