The Merchant of Venice Beach

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The Merchant of Venice Beach Page 18

by Celia Bonaduce


  “What are their names again?” Andy asked.

  “Oh, I don’t remember.”

  Suzanna wasn’t exactly sure why she lied to him. But if he didn’t remember the names of those two gorgeous girls, it would seem a little odd that she did.

  “You should ask one of them to dance,” she said, before she could stop herself.

  Why, why, why? Why have I said this? I don’t mean it, I don’t want him to, but there it is—I said it.

  Suzanna hoped maybe he hadn’t heard her, but he took an uncharacteristically large pull on his beer and stood up. She tried to arrange her features so that she looked happy that he was going to leave her to her own devices, but he suddenly put his hand out—just like in dance class.

  “May I have this dance?”

  Suzanna looked into his eyes and could see he was just as nervous as she was—which, in some weird way, made her feel a little better. She put her hand in his, and he led her to the floor.

  While they were not the best on the floor, they weren’t the worst, either, and frankly, that was about the best Suzanna had ever hoped for. “Not being the worst” was her yardstick. She willed herself to get over the competition factor—nobody cared how she was doing but her. Nobody was looking at her, nobody was judging her. And besides that, thong-salsa-girl pretty much had everyone’s attention anyway. Suzanna finally relaxed and started to really have fun. She and Andy went from “practicing” what they’d learned in class to actually dancing! Suzanna was breathless with victory and dance moves. She even waved happily to Sandy and Alexia.

  “Let’s sit this next one out,” Andy said, breathless.

  Suzanna nodded vigorously. They went back to their table and ordered another round of drinks. Suzanna was so happy she could barely contain herself. She was so thirsty that she downed her mojito in a few quick gulps and ordered another one.

  “Careful there,” Andy laughed, while he sipped his beer.

  The evening progressed magnificently. Dancing, drinking, more dancing.

  While on the dance floor, Suzanna suddenly lost her timing as she spotted Rio and Lauren entering the club. Andy saw them, too, and he gave her one of his thumbs-up. Suzanna was galvanized by the sight of them: Rio was dressed to kill in all black and Lauren looked nine feet tall (in a good way) in a low-cut taupe wrap-around top and a skirt that looked like it had been made from running water.

  Suzanna had no time to freak herself out, because Big Daddy was suddenly tapping Andy on the shoulder, asking to cut in. Big Daddy offered his hand to Suzanna, who looked at it as if she didn’t know what a hand was.

  “I think he wants to dance with you,” Andy said, as he left the dance floor.

  Suzanna snapped out of her bunny-in-the-headlights mode. She noticed that Rio had looked at her. She started to dance as if her soul depended on it.

  CHAPTER 20

  “We’ve got a birthday girl in the house,” Big Daddy announced.

  And the crowd went wild.

  Suzanna was a little tipsy, but she knew better than to drink too much. She was not a fun drunk, and if she let alcohol get the better of her, she’d have absolutely no control over her panic swells. The last thing she wanted to do was float above the dance floor in front of all these people. Even if they couldn’t tell she was floating, she could—and that was all that mattered.

  A hand reached out for her as the music started to pulse. It was Rio, guiding her to the floor. She couldn’t believe it. She was in a club, dancing with Rio—and she wasn’t even paying him. She took a deep breath and focused. She wanted to remember every second of the dance.

  The song was called “La Ruñidera”—it was one he played in class all the time, so Suzanna was familiar with it and knew she could keep up. Her feet seemed to have a life of their own. She felt so light, this could have been the beginning of a swell, but she knew she was not going anywhere. She was here—in the moment—living out a dream. She caught a glimpse of Andy, who was dancing with one of the twins. He pointed to his watch. Suzanna almost stumbled, but Rio caught her.

  Andy knows about the watch?

  Rio and Suzanna continued their seductive back and forth, with a rope spin and a butterfly turn thrown in, but Suzanna was distracted. As she swirled, she tried to find Andy in the crowd. The song ended, and Rio led her back to her table without a word. Andy was already at the table. He exchanged a nod with Rio as Suzanna sat, breathless. Rio disappeared into the crowd.

  “You looked great out there,” he said.

  “I . . . I saw you tap your watch.”

  “Yeah,” he said, tapping it again. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should call it a night.”

  Suzanna relaxed. Her secret was safe. She looked around the club. It appeared Rio was leaving with Lauren. There wasn’t any reason to stay. There would not be another dance with Rio. She felt her lip tremble, but nodded. As Andy guided her toward the door, Big Daddy called out, “Good night, birthday girl!” Suzanna turned and waved. It really had been a fun birthday.

  Then why do I feel so empty?

  When they got outside, Suzanna struggled to find the armhole of her jacket. Andy straightened it out and held the jacket for her.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Suzanna smiled. Whenever she went out with a guy, she had several “potential boyfriend” tests, and Andy passed all of them. The first was “no smoking.” The second one was “the sharing of food or drink”: Andy had gamely sampled her mojito. The next was “hold the coat.” This was Suzanna’s own adaptation of “hold the car door,” which she thought was goofy and time-consuming. Again, Andy passed. But the big one was “walk me to my car after dark.” Again, bingo!

  It was hard to find a guy who passed all the tests. So far, only Eric and Andy had gone four for four. And neither of them was going to end up her boyfriend.

  Maybe I need to look at Andy a little differently.

  The streetlight was illuminating them. She looked at him and envisioned a long, romantic birthday kiss.

  Nah.

  “I’m in the garage,” she said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in the opposite direction, but I’m happy to walk you.”

  “That’s OK,” Suzanna said. Her rule was that he ask; he didn’t have to follow through. “There are plenty of people around. Thanks for a great evening.”

  She kissed him on the cheek.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

  Suzanna was aware that he was watching her as she made her way up the street. She stopped at the corner and turned.

  “You’re going home, right?” he called to her.

  She smiled and gave him a small thumbs-up, then disappeared around the corner.

  She could see Rio leaning against her car in the parking structure. He was smoking a thin cigarette. He looked at her and lazily blew a smoke ring. Suzanna tried to steady herself on her heels as she walked toward him. A panic swell overtook her and she swam toward him, six inches above the ground. He put out his cigarette and looked at her as if nothing unusual was going on.

  “I believe this is yours,” he said.

  He reached into his jacket pocket and held out her watch.

  Pop! She was back on the ground. She reached out with quivering fingers and took it from his outstretched palm. He caught her hand.

  “Let me help you,” he said.

  Suzanna held her breath as Rio fastened the clasp. She concentrated on her breathing when she felt his lips brush her wrist. She felt lightheaded. She remembered from class that Rio always advised focusing on a specific spot on the wall when you felt dizzy, so she concentrated on the red and green Exit sign. Rio put his hands on her waist and pulled her close.

  Are we going to dance?

  He pulled her tighter, reached slowly under her skirt, and squeezed her butt.

  That would be a no.

  Suzanna closed her eyes and abandoned herself to Rio’s advances. He continued his featherweig
ht kisses until he reached her neck. Suzanna couldn’t decide if she should concentrate on the hands massaging her backside or his breath on her neck.

  Happy birthday to me.

  Suzanna heard a car nearby and opened her eyes. Rio appeared to be deaf to anything but her body as a truck of teenagers drove by them, honking and hooting. Suzanna gave them a tiny, self-conscious wave. When she returned her attention to Rio, he had already unzipped her dress to the small of her back. Another car was approaching and Suzanna was now completely out of the moment. She caught his hand as it started its second advance up her leg.

  “Let’s go somewhere.”

  Rio looked at her, his maddeningly bored expression still in place.

  “Where?”

  “To your place?” Suzanna asked.

  “No.”

  “Uh . . . well . . .”

  Suzanna tried to take stock quickly. She certainly couldn’t bring Rio back to the Huge Apartment. She stole a glance at her Smart Car.

  Even with dance lessons, I’m not that flexible.

  “Perhaps another time,” Rio said, rezipping her in one practiced move.

  “No!” Suzanna said loudly. She tried to conceal her panic.

  There has to be a place.

  Then it hit her.

  “My sister lives just up the street. She has a guesthouse in the back and it’s never locked. We can go there.”

  Rio shrugged. Suzanna wasn’t sure if that meant “OK” or “Your birthday is going to end in disappointment, just like all the rest.” She waited, hoping he would clarify.

  “I will follow in my car,” he said. “It’s a BMW.”

  Suzanna decided not to mention that she knew his car . . . she’d been hit by it. There might even be a dent where it had collided with her bike. If they ever got married, she would have the cutest “how we met” story to tell the kids.

  She drove out of the car park and waited for the BMW to show itself. For a moment, she feared that he might change his mind. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and glanced in the rearview mirror. Still no Rio. She caught her reflection in the mirror and rubbed some mascara flakes off her cheeks. A horn startled her. It was Rio, engine roaring, behind her.

  She looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. She shot a look at her cell phone on the passenger seat.

  Should I call Erinn?

  She decided against it. Erinn would be asleep and they could sneak into the backyard without a sound.

  Thank God that ugly cat isn’t a guard dog.

  Suzanna pulled up to the curb in front of Erinn’s house and Rio joined her. She got out of her car and clicked the car alarm. She jumped when her horn sounded—just the quick little beep that let her know that the alarm was on. She looked over at Rio, who was leaning against his car and watching her. She decided to be bold and walked toward him, never taking her eyes from his.

  God, I’m hot!

  Without a word, Rio stood up, embraced her, and started kissing her. They toppled onto the hood of the BMW. Suzanna tried to get the ponytail holder out of his hair. If this fantasy was going to continue at this pace, she was ready to go Fabio. The ponytail holder got stuck and Suzanna yanked.

  “Ouch,” he said. “Oh, you like it rough?”

  He spun her around and threw her back on the hood, face down. Suzanna worried about Erinn’s neighbors.

  Well, maybe if anybody comes by, they’ll think he’s a cop and he’s just arresting me.

  Suzanna shut her eyes tight. This kind of foreplay was way out of her realm, but she figured she was thirty-three now and maybe some nasty adult sex was just what she needed. Thirty-three . . . the magic number of adulthood.

  What would Jesus do?

  Suzanna clamped down on her thoughts . . . she didn’t really want to be thinking about Jesus just then. She tensed as Rio lifted her skirt. She waited. She could feel a slight breeze on her exposed bottom. A few seconds passed. Was Rio staring in appreciation of her newly firm ass? Could he see the bows on the sides of her undies in the darkness and was thinking about untying them? She waited.

  Smack! Smackity-smack-smack!

  Suzanna’s eyes flew open as she realized Rio was spanking her.

  I’ll probably have to leave this part out when I tell our kids that story.

  She tried to get into it, but it just wasn’t happening. She flipped herself over and started kissing him, trying to get the train back onto a more romantic track. Suzanna was relieved to find that Rio seemed happy enough to forgo the S and M. He pushed against her and drove them both onto the car hood. His ponytail holder finally snapped, and his curls covered his face.

  This was more like it! Her head nearly exploded from excitement, but deep inside, Suzanna felt another panic swell coming on.

  No . . . no!

  She tried to relax, knowing that as long as he was on top of her she could never float away. She started to run her fingers through his hair, but her stroke stopped abruptly. His hair was so curly, her fingers only got through about an inch. She could feel her legs starting to float on either side of her. She clamped them firmly around Rio’s knees and he moaned. He thrust his pelvis against her.

  “Who is my dirty girl?”

  Is that supposed to be sexy? Am I supposed to answer that?

  Pop! She was back.

  “Do you like this?” he asked, rotating figure eights with his hips.

  Suzanna tried to curb her annoyance. She couldn’t believe it. He was what Carla called “a talker.” Suzanna and Carla were both much more into the nonverbal type of lover.

  Don’t think about Carla. This is your dream. Stay focused.

  Rio had said more to her on the hood of this car than he had in all the time she’d known him. She now understood why he kept his mouth shut. Exasperation was creeping in, but she was determined to see this through. She braced a hand against his chest and pushed him off her.

  “Let’s go,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him through the side gate.

  When they got to the front door of the guesthouse, Suzanna gripped the doorknob and Rio started kissing the back of her neck. Now that they were off the street, Suzanna let herself relax into the sensations of his hands and mouth. Her breathing quickened as she felt his fingers inching up her skirt. She felt one of his fingers hook the side of her panties and slide them down her legs. She stepped out of them. She put her arms around his neck and his kisses got rougher. She could feel her chin being rubbed raw and knew she would have the telltale whisker burn in the morning—which thrilled her.

  Blind with desire, she reached behind her and felt for the doorknob. She hoped it wouldn’t squeak and destroy the moment. She gave it a turn.

  The door was locked.

  CHAPTER 21

  She knew she couldn’t sit in the car in front of her sister’s house all night, and she sure as hell wasn’t ready to go home, so Suzanna drove blindly around, trying to gather her—what? Wits? Dignity?

  Her bare bottom stuck to the leatherette seat. She tried not to relive her last moments with Rio, but she went over it again and again anyway.

  The disdainful look in his eyes when she told him she couldn’t get the door open made her miss his bored expression. He had spun around without a word. She ran up the path after him, grabbing at his sleeve. He turned back to her.

  “I think I can find the key. Just hang on.”

  “It is too late,” he said.

  The moon was insanely bright and they could see each other clearly. He wasn’t leaving—just looking at her. Suzanna smiled her most seductive smile. He inched closer to her and Suzanna’s hopes soared.

  “You have spinach in your teeth,” he said, and continued his retreat.

  Horrified, Suzanna clipped the offensive greenery with her nail as she hurried after him.

  “It’s mint!”

  She realized in horror that she was pathetically waving the offending herb at his back as he stalked away. She threw it to ground as if it were a lit match.<
br />
  I wish it were a lit match. I could set myself on fire and be done with it.

  She watched as he walked down the street. She never knew what he was thinking when he had that hooded-eyed uninterested look on his face. But there was no mistaking what his back was telling her tonight.

  She was history. Yesterday’s news. Toast.

  How do you say “toast” in Spanish?

  She drove up the coast for over an hour, made a U-turn in Oxnard, and headed south again. She turned up the California Incline and pointed the car aimlessly up and down the Santa Monica streets. As the car dealerships on Santa Monica Boulevard gave way to the coffee houses on Broadway, then to closed Main Street shops in Venice, Suzanna finally turned toward the boardwalk, exhausted. She looked at the clock on the dashboard—it was nearly one o’clock. Her birthday was over and Rio was gone. She sighed. She’d been through varying degrees of heartache before, and was surprised that this one really didn’t rate very high. It was nothing compared to finding out about Eric and Carla. But of course, nothing had ever come close to that one.

  It surprised her, as she got closer and closer to home, to realize that Rio was actually kind of an asshole. A really hot asshole, but an asshole nonetheless. It occurred to her that Erinn would be disappointed in her right about now. Erinn thought swearing was lazy. But right now, Suzanna felt that “asshole” was the absolutely most perfect description. Her real friends wouldn’t treat her like that! She felt guilty about the way she had been treating her friends of late—and she swore she would make it up to them.

  And as much as it hurt, if Carla and Eric had hooked up again, she would be supportive. Well, she would pretend to be supportive. All her friends deserved to be happy, and Suzanna would not stand in their way. She had a lot of thoughtless behavior to make up for.

  The Smart Car pulled into the alley behind the shop and Suzanna got out as quietly as possible. She wondered if salsa class was going to be any more awkward than usual? Or maybe she should quit and start dancing someplace else. There were times when Suzanna tried to flatter herself, to come up with some excuse why this wasn’t all her own fault. Well, Rio had to shoulder some of the blame, she admitted that. But tonight, she was thinking pretty straight. She knew she didn’t mean anything to Rio. And he didn’t really mean anything to her. Just another fantasy gone wrong. She bet the local dance studios were full of women just like her—pantyless, terrified women in their thirties afraid no one would ever love them, throwing money and themselves at their instructors.

 

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