“Yeah, okay.”
Taking small steps, I approach until we stand face to face. The stall she’s backed into is more like a cozy little room with a fancy toilet that probably makes no sound as it flushes, a mini porcelain sink, and a large mirror framed with orangey light bulbs that make our skin look warm.
“Can you come in?”
She searches my eyes back and forth, back and forth. I’m not comfortable but I do it anyway.
Mitsuko reaches over my shoulder and shuts the door behind me, giggling. We face each other, the air warm between us. The margaritas I downed quickly before hitting the dance floor swirl together in my stomach.
The bride stares at me hard. There’s humor in her face but she doesn’t smile. More like she’s assessing the way she’s going to slice up a steak. She opens her mouth, about to speak, and then wraps her arms around my waist. Clasping her hands at my lower back she pulls me into her. We meet at the chest, the stiff bodice of her dress imprinting onto my skin.
Wait. What?
Her grasp slackens only long enough to flick the lock closed, her manicured fingers delicate and quick.
My instinct is to laugh my way out of this misunderstanding, but her lips press soft and full against mine, foiling my plans. My chin finds itself between her finger and thumb in a surprisingly strong grasp.
“Hold on–”
I’m thrust roughly against the cool stone wall. She’s got a hand pressed flat on either side of me, her crazy kitten teeth so near my mouth I’m in a prison made of beautiful girl.
“Don’t make me say it, Lia.”
“What?”
“You must get it all the time.”
“What?”
She sighs, her breath bubblegum pink like kids’ toothpaste.
“You’re a treat. A tasty bombshell. All my guests must want to peel that dress off.”
This sphinx-minx is from some other planet. “Woah, easy.”
She pouts. “Can’t we?”
I don’t reply because she kisses me again, this time with her whole body. Her hips grind into mine, and she tugs gently on my bottom lip with her little wolf teeth. I’ve fallen into some parallel universe and I don’t know the way out.
“Wait,” I plead, only hesitating a little before pushing her shoulders back gently.
“Whoops,” she replies girlishly, naughty, brave.
“Are you high?”
She grins, shrugging. “Wanna roll?”
“You’re on X? At your wedding?”
“More like the finest MDMA you can get in these parts. I got the feel-goods, big-time.”
“You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you?”
“This is nothing where I come from.”
“Sorry. I mean, it’s your day.”
“Don’t sweat it. Jacky and I dropped it right after the ceremony ’cause it takes a while to kick in. It’s really good. Just a bit intense when it peaks. I came in here to hide from my stepmother. You want?” Her hands run up and down my arms.
“Mitsuko–”
“You remind me of a girl I met in Big Sur,” she purrs in my ear. “She posed for me. I made her lobster and she liked it so much she got down on her knees and made me come nine times.”
“I– Nine times?”
“I counted.”
“Jesus.”
“Right? I’ve never looked at shellfish the same way since.”
I giggle in spite of her. The ladies’ room door swings open with a squeak and a confetti of sounds filters in for a second before it shuts quiet again. It’s some older women, talking about how sweet Mitsuko looks in her dress tonight. In our tiny hideout the bride turns to me and places her finger over her lips, shushing me even though I’m not saying anything.
This is officially my most unusual restroom experience of all time. I don’t feel kinked out like her, but I can’t look away from her sweetheart face. My body is heavy against the wall and I’m dizzy. She’s intoxicating like a poisonous flower.
“Why don’t we go find Jack?” I suggest.
“He doesn’t mind, if that’s what you’re thinking. He loves me for who I am. I’ll take it six times a day if I can. Doesn’t mean Jacky’s name isn’t tattooed on my heart.”
Huh. What kind of life is possible on the west coast, anyway?
She softens, sober for a moment, and kisses me on the cheek.
“It’s all right, forget it,” she sighs.
“Really?”
“Fuckin’ right. Diego’s plenty for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“That sexy piece of ass can get a girl’s mind melting down, I get it. You’ve got it in you.”
“What?”
“The freak.” She leans back against the wall across from me and folds her arms. “The force that drove you to a gorgeous slab of muscle like him. Bet he’s got a knock-out cock.”
I grin and slap a hand over my face. Mitsuko laughs, shrill and delighted.
“I’m right! And you love it, don’t you? Riding him like the freak you are.”
Naughtiness, perhaps her true essence, fogs over her gaze and she gets giggly again. I want to smile but I can’t. Involuntarily, Carter has just snared my consciousness again, ever a prick.
“Woah, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Mitsuko looks truly sorry, not that that’s really got anything to do with it.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask, looking deep in her eyes. A woman like her must know something about having more than one man to manage in her life.
“Okay,” she sighs. “But come out for a cig with me? Then we’ll fix all your problems.”
Standing with her legs apart on the smooth, white terrace, Mitsuko pulls her dress up to reveal a neon yellow garter with a small pouch. Popping a slim herbal cigarette in her mouth, she flicks a silver Zippo and squints like James Dean.
“Lay it on me.” She exhales, watching me through the smoke with that rapturous expression.
“Damn, it’s humid tonight.”
“Don’t change the subject now that we’re talking about it. What’s your big secret?”
“Long story short, I have a bastard ex-boyfriend.”
“Ugh.”
“He’s long gone, but out of nowhere he makes contact. I feel … rattled.”
“You still interested?”
“Nope.”
“You’re pretty into it with Diego,” she concludes.
“Something like that.”
“He’s a good catch. Big catch,” she winks. “You been together long?”
“No. But we’ve known each other a while.”
“Good, it’s better like that. So, this ex is harassing you, things aren’t sealed with Diego, and you’re stressing.”
“More or less, yeah.”
“Well, no wonder. How can you control all that shit? You can’t. If you haven’t figured it out yet, men can cause all kinds of drama. That isn’t going to change.”
“Huh.” She’s got a point there.
“Look, stability will come,” Mitsuko tells me. “Trust your gut. You’ll sort it out. And if you have to, tell your ex to jam a brick up his asshole.”
“You ought to have an advice column,” I manage, laughing. What a spitfire.
“So, Diego meets his match, hmm? You in love with him?”
“Shh,” I whisper, peering over my shoulder.
“Relax, jumpy.” She blows smoke away from us thoughtfully. “Good god, you’re sweet, aren’t you?”
“I guess. I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s terrifying.”
“Sounds like the love bug to me. I had that with Jack after about three months with him.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I fell into a total funk and could only have sex, like, once every two days.”
I roll my eyes. “What hardship.”
“I’m serious. It freaked me out. Meeting someone who’s actually worthy doesn’t happen every day. But look how things can shake up.” She ex
tends her left hand, displaying a huge chunk of imperial jade set in platinum. It’s such a clear green you can nearly see through it.
“It’s beautiful. But not everybody winds up like you and Jack.”
She raises an eyebrow and ashes her smoke. “You won’t learn a damn thing until you find out for yourself. That’s life. Better you hear it from me.”
The bride extends her elbow to me like she’s the one giving me away. I take it and we walk back into the party like the sexiest jet-set couple in the room.
CHAPTER 7
Lia
Mitsuko steers me toward the bar and orders us lychee martinis silkier than French lingerie.
“Heart of my life!”
Jack bounds up to her, gathers his wife into his arms, and lifts her like he’s carrying her over a threshold. They kiss sweetly until it becomes a full-on snog. And now I’m intoxicated and uncomfortable. I look away.
“Hey, miss. Diego’s looking for you.”
That gets me. Jack’s still holding his girl tight, but now they’re both watching me affectionately. For a second they look completely sober, even wise beyond their years. No doubt they share an energy of some kind, beyond fuzzy neon serotonin. Their fingers clasp together tightly, a private embrace nearly hidden beneath her layers of tulle, signifying something deeper.
“Where is he?”
“I just left him on the dance floor. Here, bring him one of these.”
He hands me a shot. Odds are it’s me who needs it more. I throw it down and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Vanilla something.
“I like her,” Jack says approvingly, his brows raised. “Remember when we were that young, Cherry Pie?”
“Don’t remind me,” Mitsuko laughs, eyes bouncing around the room.
I have to clarify something.
“Sorry, did you say Diego’s dancing?”
“Like a boss. He was busting moves I’ve never seen. And, like, I’ve traveled.” Jack looks like he’s telling the truth. The empty shot glass in his hand makes me wonder.
“Say, how many times did you guys toast tonight?”
“Five hundred, give or take.”
This night is getting very Alice in Wonderland. I’ve turned to look for my man when Jack’s voice trails behind me.
“Don’t hold back. Life is a gift you gotta tear open.”
I can’t escape the wisdom of the Just Marrieds tonight. His words hit me right where I’m sore. During my past six months in Costa Rica, I’ve kept my head down with the idea that I’m working for the greater good, to the point that I’ve lost track of everything else. It’s safe to grind away at a goal, and I’ve seen it do a lot of good, but still I hold back. My gut tells me this is just the beginning of something important. But what’s my next move? I haven’t the fucking foggiest. Tears sting my eyes. They don’t fall out, but isn’t it still weeping?
The dance floor is thick and simmering with guests gliding over the light-up stage. The really serious women have piled their purses and heels off to one side, and their bare, polished toes pound the floor. Nobody’s holding back. Their bright, tight outfits ripple and contort with each confident thrust.
The DJ is a teenaged-looking girl with a shaved head, and she’s rocking old hits. Some kind of Turkish folk twang mixes with a disco-thumping bassline; it’s “Rasputin” by Boney M. There’s a low, encouraging roar from the middle of the floor. I can’t see.
A tall lady in opals and black pearls stands next to me, and she’s got an uncensored view. She shoves two fingers in her mouth and whistles sharply, for no apparent reason except to make Mitsuko burst out laughing and raise her fist in solidarity. A circle of people is gathered around someone in the center. Can’t call it a premonition, but I can’t help but wonder…
I weave through the crowd, losing the newlyweds in the chaos. By the time I get to the front I’m three bodies deep, surrounded by well-watered guests. Everyone’s clapping in time, eyes locked on the entertainment, and it’s no wonder.
Jack’s brothers are breaking it down on the floor, doing freezes and kip-ups. Diego’s with them, his white shirt unbuttoned, stomach rippling like he’s Shakira’s brother.
“Take it offf!” a female voice bellows from the crowd.
Diego’s fully immersed in his role as dance-floor guy. His hips buck like he’s riding a horse and he squints hard at something only he can see. Spur of the moment, he jumps into a handstand, and cheers ring out to encourage him. I’ve never seen Diego get loose like this. Has anyone? His heart rate must be going through the roof, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. Almost like he’s somewhere else entirely. It’s good to see him letting go.
“Rasputin!” chants the DJ into the mic, cutting the music, and everyone chants it back. The beat starts again where it stopped. I realize I’m clapping along, having a great old time.
Opal and Pearls wolf-whistles shrill and clear from the crowd again. The bassline has us all by a string. Diego folds his arms and squats down, jumping back up in some Costa Rican variation of Russia’s Greatest Love Machine. The brothers Kootz follow his lead.
“Take it off!” a woman calls out again, and I see it’s Mitsuko wiggling across the circle with a delighted grin on her face. Of course. Finally noticing the hostess of the party, Diego submits, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head. She snatches it out of his grasp and holds it up like a trophy, dancing up to him, skirts held high.
Everyone around me is clapping in time, chanting.
Mitsuko bows to Diego and runs across the circle, squeezing in next to me. She loops the tie around my neck like it’s a gold medal, cackling madly.
“Who the fuck is that man?” a woman demands from somewhere behind me, her voice throaty with attraction that makes me kinda jealous.
“The hottest Chippendale I’ve ever seen,” a male voice answers with certainty. “They get hired for events like this, you know.”
I look at Mitsuko to share in the amusement of their illusions, but she’s watching the show like a happy kindergartner, delighted. Diego would make a good stripper. His thighs threaten to burst through his trousers. I think he might stop, but Teen DJ doesn’t. She’s breaking it down again, and Diego dives hands-first onto the floor, his legs bent, feet dangling. If that’s his signature dance move, it’s all right with me. For a moment he lifts his weight onto one palm and spins a few times, sending the audience into a frenzy. His tie hangs hot around my neck like I’ve got a physical piece of him. Territorial feelings are beginning to come on strong, and I’m ready for it to be just the two of us again.
“Rasputin! Rasputin!”
Mitsuko clutches my arms, thrilled. “You didn’t tell me he was this much fun. No wonder you’re in love with him!” she yells into my ear over the music.
Humiliation melts over me to hear her belt it out loud like that, even though there’s no way he can hear. Can’t imagine he has any idea I’m watching. I’m not sure he knows where he is himself.
Jack’s clumsy hands push past me as he breaks into the circle. He leads with his face, a goofy open- mouthed grin, leaping in and catching the beat nimbly. Guffawing, he bear-hugs Diego, who lifts him up and carries him around the circle on his shoulders. Two more guys join in and the three of them hoist Jack up and toss him into the air, cheering louder with each flight.
My phone’s gotta come out to record this moment, just in case Diego blacks out and forgets this ever happened. I capture a quick video and can’t resist sending it to Kat.
U seeing this?? Where r u guys??
Carter’s unread message catches my eye and kicks me in the gut, hanging there in my notifications like fruit gone rotten. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to tap it, just get it over with. My middle finger hovers over the unread message like I’m getting ready to flip him off.
“Would the gentlemen please keep the groom on planet Earth,” the DJ requests calmly into the microphone as a worried concierge whispers to her. She nods and holds her station, expertly f
ading the disco out and cueing up “Patience” by Guns N’ Roses. Axl whistles the rock ’n’ roll lullaby in our ears, gently breaking up the ruckus. The boys are corralled to some couches off the side of the dance floor by Mitsuko. Couples wrap themselves around one another and sway beneath the mirror ball, forgetting the disco for the sake of romance. Swaying to GnR in this unreal hotel palace is what I want, and it’s got to be with Diego.
“Emilia Noble!”
It’s really him when I look up. Finally, together. There’s a straight line between us, invisible but direct, and we move to meet in the middle. Now that I see his eyes I remember the time I saw them like that before, just once, on our last night together. Open like a window. A gaze that washes you in cool rainforest mist, set in skin like rich red earth. His loving and transfixed nature stays hidden so deeply most of the time, it takes a lot out of you when Diego decides to let you into his world.
When he smiles with genuine relief, seeing me, we’re together without touching and without language. Forget the rest of my body. Nothing can sever this connection so long as I have eyes.
A buzz hums in my ear, growing rapidly louder until it’s all around me. Without warning, every light on the terrace dies at once. The hotel goes from party palace to a boxy shadow. Just when I catch a goddamn glimpse, we get cloaked in darkness.
Diego
Where is she? The length of the beach is dark. No electricity for miles. Can’t believe I lost her in this mess. Going to rain hard, I can smell it.
Everyone’s filing toward the glowing exits. I walk through them in the opposite direction. A walkie-talkie voice crackles, talking of power failure and a storm that’s coming down the coast.
“Ouch!”
“Lo siento mucho,” I mutter to the figure tangled with me.
“Diego?”
“Lia?”
We knock into each other with clumsy energy and she steadies herself against me. Or maybe it’s me against her. My eyes get caught on her lips, looping around their soft outline like a racetrack.
“I missed you; where were you?” I mean to be soft but it comes out like a steam train.
Caramel Beach (Lessons in Pure Life Book 2) Page 5