I follow Guillermo (I’m calling him that because his stature and roly-polyness call to mind Jimmy Kimmel’s sidekick) out past the pool to the walkway that leads to the beach. Dinner en la playa? Hmmmm, okay, that will probably be more private, so I like the way Eduardo’s thinking. Before we hit the sand, Guillermo suggests I remove my shoes and offers me his hand, which is very gentlemanly of him. (Eduardo must be paying him well.) I slip off my shoes and hike up the long hem of my dress in one hand and give the other to Guillermo.
There’s a full moon out tonight, so the beach is illuminated with a soft, otherworldly glow. It’s hot and humid, as per usual at this time of year in the Caribbean, but there’s a sultry breeze kissing my naked shoulders, which keeps the heat from being oppressive. As we make our way up the stretch of sand, I hear the faint strains of some island music and see flickering lights in the distance; my curiosity is piqued by both, and my heart starts to beat a little faster in anticipation.
When we reach our destination, I have to blink a few times to make sure I’m not imagining the scene that’s laid out before me. There’s a big heart outlined by flameless pillar candles on the sand, and it’s blanketed with hibiscus flowers in vibrant shades of fuchsia and orange (my favorite colors!). In the center of the heart is a table set for two under a white canopy, and off to the side is a trio of musicians (two guitarists and a percussion player holding a güira, which is a metal scraper used as an instrument in merengue and bachata). Oh, and Eduardo’s there, too, looking handsome and relaxed in a white linen shirt and loose-fitting khaki chinos. He approaches me, with his hand held out and a big smile.
“Mi querida.” He takes my hand, lifts it to his mouth, and places a tender kiss on the back of it.
“Wow,” is all I can think to say.
“You like?” he wonders, and I can see that my answer is important to him. He obviously went to a lot of trouble to set this up. I mean, I know he didn’t do any of it personally, but still he had to cook up this whole plan and find the right people to make it happen. So, I have to give him props for that.
“Of course, I do! This is like next level, Harlequin Romance stuff.” Seriously. Topaz (and just about every other woman I know) would swoon if she were in my bare feet right now! I’m not the swooning type, but still I am impressed and it’s nice to feel special and cared for.
“Come, let’s sit,” Eduardo urges me, and I move with him toward the table. He pulls out a chair for me, which is rattan with a cushy pillow, and I lower myself into it.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” he says after taking a seat in the chair opposite me and staring at me for a few seconds.
“I think it’s the lighting,” I retort with a teasing quirk of my lips as I place my napkin in my lap. “Moonlight and candlelight are a very potent combination.”
“It’s not the lighting,” he murmurs, reaching for my hand once again. This time when he brings it to his mouth, he places a very fervent kiss on the inside of my wrist that instantly makes my pulse quicken. He grins, pleased by my response, and laces his fingers through mine before resting our entwined hands on the table.
“Mojito?” A server appears out of nowhere carrying an iced pitcher and offering my beloved cocktail.
I nod my assent, and he pours the orange liquid with chunks of fruit into the Collins glass at my place setting. I take a sip and moan my approval. “Mmmmmm, mango. I love it!”
Eduardo asks the waiter to give us ten minutes before bringing out our dinner. My stomach grumbles its disapproval of the delay, but I understand Eduardo not wanting to rush things. It’s a lovely night and we’re together; we should take our time and enjoy every moment. Of course, if the alcohol I had earlier, plus this mojito, go straight to my head because I have no food in my stomach to soak it up and I get a little crazy, that’s on him. (I’m not very inhibited to start with, but Drunk Izzy is a real wild woman. I could see her ripping off her clothes and jumping into the ocean for a skinny dip. Or she might decide to perform a one-woman concert with the in-house band—assuming they know how to play Becky G’s “Shower” as that’s Drunk Izzy’s go-to karaoke song and it comes complete with some very suggestive choreography.)
Once the waiter’s out of earshot, Eduardo gazes deeply into my eyes and says, “Before this evening goes any further, I owe you an apology.” He takes a deep breath and exhales it before continuing, “When I invited you to accompany me on this trip, I had no idea how bad things were in the Santo Domingo office. I was overwhelmed and frankly, a bit panicked, after I discovered what a truly horrible job my replacement as managing director had been doing over the past few months. Orders had been botched, several of our largest distributors were furious and threatening to stop doing business with us, and worst of all, there appeared to have been a mismanagement of funds. I felt responsible for all of it as I had promoted Cristian to that position, thinking he was qualified and worthy of it. His incompetence reflected poorly on not just the company, but me. So, I’ve been doing everything in my power to make things right in the office and find another managing director who could be trusted.”
“That’s rough,” I reply sympathetically. “Is everything okay now?”
He smiles and gives my hand a squeeze. “Yes, with the help of Gillian and some key personnel here, we have things back on track, and I’ve been working with Matías, the new managing director I hired, the last few days, and feel that he has a good handle on the job. So, now I can do what I’ve wanted to do the whole time we’ve been here . . .” he releases my hand and lightly trails his fingers up my arm, “and give you my full attention.”
“I’ve forgotten what that’s like,” I say in all honesty.
He grimaces. “I know, and it’s shameful the way I’ve been neglecting you. It would have served me right if you’d run off with some muscle-bound Dominican.”
“But I didn’t.” And I want full credit for that since it’s been a struggle to resist my baser instincts while I’ve been here.
“No, and I appreciate you being so loyal, patient, and undemanding during this crisis. Even though I haven’t been able to spend any quality time with you lately, it’s been a real comfort to me to know that you’re around and I have your unconditional support.”
Good thing I kept all my whining and complaining about him abandoning me to myself. By not putting any pressure on him, I seem to have shot up in his estimation and now I can collect on that!
“Always,” I assure him. “And a little neglect isn’t so bad if you’re going to make it up to me like this.” I gesture around us at the lovely setting.
“This dinner is just the first of many surprises I have planned for this evening,” he confides.
“Color me intrigued . . .”
The band starts playing a slow song that inspires Eduardo to ask, “Why don’t we dance, like we did on our first date?”
Rising to his feet, he extends his hand toward me, which I happily accept, and soon I’m in his arms, pressed up against his warm, solid flesh, swaying back and forth to the sensual rhythm of the guitars. This is different than the night we met when we were on the dance floor with a host of other people, getting down and dirty to a salsa beat. That was fun; but this is so much more than that as we connect with the music and each other, communicating without words, our bodies moving as one.
The song ends just as the waiter arrives with our food, so we return to the table and our dinner, which is the quintessential Dominican feast of pescado frito (fried whole fish), tostones (twice-fried plantain slices) and ensalada verde (green salad with avocado and tomatoes). We dig in and spend the next hour talking, laughing, and filling our stomachs to maximum capacity. When our plates are clean and the pitcher of mojitos is empty, I lean back in my chair and groan, “That was so good, but I think I’m going to explode!”
“I hope you still have room for dessert. I had the chef make something very special,” Eduardo says with an enigmatic smile.
“I don’t know. I might
be able to manage a bite or two.” Good thing I’m wearing a flowy dress—it will accommodate a little bloating.
The waiter clears away our dinner dishes, and another sets down plates of flan in front of us.
I beam at my companion. “Aw, the perfect dessert for a Throwback Thursday. We might never have met or bonded if it weren’t for our shared love of this delicious custard treat.”
It really was a very sweet and sentimental gesture for Eduardo to include this in tonight’s romantic dinner, although I’m not sure that I would classify a flan as “special” since it’s something I eat on the reg. I suppose this one is kind of fancy since it’s decorated with a beautiful hibiscus flower. I reach down to remove the bloom so that I can get my fork into the flan and that’s when I notice something sparkly nestled in the center of the orange petals that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Is this what I think it is?” I query breathlessly as I lift the diamond ring ever-so-carefully out of the flower and bring it up to my face for closer inspection.
“If you think it’s a four-carat, custom-made engagement ring from Tiffany’s, then it’s exactly what you think it is,” Eduardo replies smoothly. “I got the princess cut diamond because you’re mi hermosa princesa latina.” He takes my left hand in both of his, and I realize mine is trembling because I’m in such a state of shock.
It worked; it actually worked! I set out to find myself a rich, handsome man under forty who would put a ring on it, and I did—in less than three months! And what a ring it is . . . the platinum band is covered in round pavé diamonds and the flawless, four-carat stone is in a halo setting with more pavé diamonds surrounding it. It’s a veritable orgy of diamonds! I can’t even imagine how much this sucker cost. (Of course, I will get it appraised at the earliest opportunity.)
Eduardo is still talking, but I’ve been so dazzled by my new ring that I haven’t been paying attention to him. He’s probably saying something important, too. Dammit! I raise my eyes to his warm, brown ones and will myself to focus on his words.
“ . . . at the perfect time in my life when I was open to a relationship and could see all the possibilities for us. I’ve never met another woman like you. You’re gorgeous, funny, sexy as hell, and I’m surprised and delighted by you each and every day. I think we make an amazing team and I hope you feel the same.” Dropping down on one knee in the sea of hibiscus beneath us, he queries, “Isidora Alvarez, will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
Hmmmmm, let me think about that for a minute . . .
“Hell yes!” I exclaim, launching myself at Eduardo with such force that he topples back and hits the sand with a dull thud. (Thankfully, the flowers cushion his fall.) I proceed to kiss him with wild abandon, completely forgetting that we’re not alone. Before I get too carried away with myself, Eduardo rolls me off of him and lifts us both up into a sitting position.
“I appreciate . . . your enthusiasm,” he tells me in between pants, a hank of his now disheveled hair falling in his face. “But I think . . .,” he dips his head down to whisper in my ear, “we should hold off on consummating this engagement until we don’t have an audience.”
“You can all leave!” I shout at the musicians and servers (some of whom are gaping at us while others are politely averting their eyes), then make a shooing motion with my hand. “¡Adiós!” I tack on in case any of them don’t understand English.
Eduardo chuckles. “You are so bad. Come on, let’s make this official. Give me the ring.” He holds out his hand.
My precious is clutched in my right hand and I’m loathe to surrender it, but I don’t want to deny Eduardo the pleasure of doing this the traditional way. So, I reluctantly place the ring on his outstretched palm.
He slides the platinum band onto my finger. “A perfect fit,” he declares, flashing me a toothy grin.
“Just like us.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him once more, feeling giddy and elated. No more worrying about money! No more having to take stupid “modeling” jobs that are beneath me! No more nagging from my mother or condescension from Ana! I am going to be set for life. Even if Eduardo and I divorce somewhere down the road, I’ll still get alimony, or even better some kind of lump sum pay-out for time served in the marriage. I’ll have to make sure all that is spelled out in the pre-nup.
Oh, man, I am going to have so much stuff when I am Mrs. Sandoval—mansions, a designer wardrobe (no more knock-offs or sale items!), tons of bling, luxury cars and boats, a staff to do everything for me, and of course, a powerful, attractive husband. I could have done a lot worse than Eduardo and I really do appreciate the fact that he’s kind, and generous, and sleeping with him doesn’t make me want to vomit. (Seriously, I throw up in my mouth a little every time I think about Silvana having to bang that wealthy, old goat she hooked up with. Shudder.)
“Shall we tackle that flan now?” Eduardo wonders.
“Nuh uh.” I shake my head as I straddle him and lower myself into his lap. “I’ve got all the sweetness I need right here.”
When I start to unbutton his shirt, Eduardo’s eyes dart around nervously. He visibly relaxes as soon as he confirms, “You scared everyone away.”
“I think they knew where this was going, so they decided to give us some privacy.”
With a wicked gleam in my eye, I push Eduardo back onto the bed of flowers and kiss my way down his torso, from the base of his throat to his belly button, while he works to loosen the knotted scarf ties that are keeping the top of my dress up. When the ties are finally freed, I feel the silky fabric slide down my front, exposing my breasts to the night air. My nipples instantly react, and I scrape their hardened tips against Eduardo’s bare skin as I crawl back up his body, making him groan with both pleasure and frustration. My mouth seeks his, and we kiss passionately while I reach down to unbutton his pants. My hand is on his zipper, and things are just about to get interesting when our tryst is interrupted by several loud POP!s.
I shriek, thinking we’re under an attack of some kind. Clutching my dress to my chest, I roll off Eduardo and duck down next to him, using his larger body for cover. Yes, I know, not very brave of me, but hey, he’s the man. It’s up to him to protect me.
“It’s okay, mi amor,” Eduardo says soothingly. “It’s just fireworks. See.” He gestures upwards and sure enough there’s a shower of bright colors lighting up the star-filled sky.
I hear another series of POP!s and this time the sparks from the fireworks form three red hearts. “Did you do this?” I ask, turning to him.
Eduardo looks sheepish. “Yes, and I had planned to warn you, but I got distracted, very pleasantly, by all this.” He waves a hand up and down my half-naked body.
“My very own fireworks show, huh?” I love that Eduardo does things big—first, the romantic dinner, then the huge, sparkly rock for my finger, and now this impressive display of pyrotechnics.
I give him a smile of approval and a quick kiss on the cheek, then I lie back, nestling into the crook of his arm so that I can look up and enjoy the multi-colored explosions. “Just don’t forget where we left off,” I tell him.
“There’s no chance of that,” he assures me.
CHAPTER 21
“Izzy.” Nate seems surprised when he opens his front door and sees me. I guess it has been a while since I’ve been over here. I’ve just been so busy with my fabulous life!
“Hey, kid.” I walk into the foyer and do a quick visual sweep of the living area. “Where is everybody?”
“Gabi’s at her swimming lesson up at the clubhouse with Pop, and Mom’s in the kitchen with Aunt Ana.”
Ana’s here? Normally, this news would compel me to turn tail and run back out to my car, but not today. It’ll be fun to drop my little engagement bombshell on both sisters at the same time! But before I do that . . .
“I got you something,” I tell my nephew, reaching into my tote to extract a fat, white box.
Nate looks confused. “My birthday’s not for a
few months.”
“I know that!” No, I didn’t. I have no clue when any of my nephews’ birthdays are. I know that Gabi’s is in September only because it’s a couple of weeks before mine.
“Woah!” Nate’s eyes grow large when I hand him the box, and he realizes what’s in it. “The new iPad Mini! This is awesome!”
“Yeah, I thought you’d like it since you’re such a smartie and love all that tech stuff. And I wanted to thank you for all your help with my little project,” I say the last word in a covert whisper.
Nate’s already removed the tablet from the box and is eagerly pulling it out of the plastic sleeve. Glancing up, he shrugs. “I just did some research online and set up a database for you. No big. You didn’t even end up with one of the guys on my list.”
“No, but I had some good practice runs with a couple of the men you picked, and you got me to focus in on a plan. I needed that little kick in the pants to get me started down the right path and if you hadn’t given it to me, I’m sure I would have gotten bored and given up and I never would have ended up where I am now.”
“Which is where?” he asks while tapping away on the iPad Mini screen.
“Headed down the aisle with Mr. Right.” I stick my left hand under his nose and jiggle my fingers so that he can see my ring.
“Wow, that was fast work. Way to go, Aunt Izzy.” The kid actually looks impressed. He offers me a raised fist, and I bump it with my own.
“How’d you like to be an usher at the wedding?”
“Cool.” His eyes are once again glued to the screen of his new toy.
“Consider yourself a member of the wedding party then. I’m going to head back to talk to your mom.”
Izzy As Is Page 20