Chapter Four
Today I spent several long hours at the tax office in town going over legal documents, tax information, code and permit requirements, and I initiated a title search on the property of interest. By two that afternoon I was ready to wrap things up and head out to reconnoiter the area and more thoroughly than I had since my arrival. I did not want to leave the island without at least attempting to meet an attractive looking native.
Later, I managed to hook up with a young woman at a nearby restaurant I was dining at. She was a native of the island of Barbados and was visiting with an aunt who was back at their hotel resting. They were on the island for a few days of relaxation and shopping. And though she appeared quite curious about the nature of my singular visit there, the bulk of her conversation centered on her upcoming wedding in the fall to her high school sweetheart. The encounter wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. For the record, her name was Michelle Chase. She was twenty-eight, very attractive; with a body to die for, articulate, intelligent, friendly, and very engaged.
I returned to my villa in time to catch an action flick on Cinemax, take a one hour nap, and grab a bite to eat at the bar & grill. While there, I made that phone call to my uncle and did my best to convince him that my work was practically done and that there was no rational reason for me to remain here any longer than it took to seal the deal. He was not having it, though. A motivational speaker, as well as a lot of other things to me, he stressed what I had already knew, that I had not given myself enough time to enjoy myself or my seductive surroundings. He urged me to give it at least to the weekend and if I wasn’t happy by then, that he’d understand my returning to Florida. Feeling that this was a reasonable compromise, I agreed to his terms.
Setting down the cellphone I collected a towel and a few other items and went to take a shower. I was scheduled to meet Miles at his downtown office at eight that evening and I wanted to be fresh and on time. Once at his office we’d take his car and drive over to the hotel where the dance was being held at. There I would finally meet the woman he had alluded to, though he had provided almost no information about her other than the fact that she was an engineering student at the university on the island. She was probably the brainy and intellectual type with the warmth and charm of a Silicon Valley microchip. With the luck I was having she probably wore horn-rimmed glasses. After giving it some thought, I concluded that Miles wouldn’t do that to me…not if he wanted this deal to go through. That was the one ace I held onto, and firmly, as I headed over to his office an hour later.
“You’re looking all suave and dapper, I see,” he bellowed as I walked towards him and his lovely date in the parking lot.
“You’re not looking all too bad yourself,” I chuckled. He was wearing a pair of black slacks, a lavender colored top with a Nehru-like collar. On his wrist he wore a Rolex watch. His black shoes appeared as though they had been recently polished.
We shook hands and then indulged in a closer appraisal of one another’s attire. I was wearing pressed brown slacks, a light beige long sleeves shirt, with a brown pattern tie, and a pair of brown leather loafers; newly purchased that day, right off the shelf. The cologne I wore was pleasantly mild, yet distinct.
“Allow me to introduce you to my fiancée Iris,” he began as she extended her hand for me to take. “Iris, this is Marcus. Marcus Donavan.”
“I’m glad to meet your acquaintance, Marcus,” she said breaking into a soft angelic smile as she shook my hand. She was wearing a full-length lavender gown, matching lavender colored shoes; tear drop earrings, and a silver broche. “Miles had nothing but good things to say about you.”
“I am delighted to hear that,” I replied, still holding her gloved hand. “And it’s an honor to meet you Iris.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” she tossed in as we slowly released our grip. The woman could pass for Tyra Banks, I swear, but with a West Indies accent.
Turning, we walked over to his cream-colored BMW. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a car remote and punched a keypad to unlock it and another to start it running. Opening the door, Miles assisted Iris into the car. I entered the rear of the luxury car. Within seconds we were cruising along a stretch of road lined with hotels, nightclubs, and restaurants on my left, the white and pink pastel colored walls of the buildings lit by soft hues of green, pink, and blue ground based accent lights. On my right quietly sat a picturesque harbor under a bright full moon and a collection of magnesium bright stars, some twinkling. Several cruise ships sat moored at various piers, their hulls lit up like Christmas trees. Medium size yachts sat anchored; each glowing just as brightly, complements of a string of lights that spanned across their full-length.
“So where is this mystery woman?” I asked perfunctorily, as though I wasn’t so sure she really existed.
“She’s going to meet us at the hotel’s ballroom,” he answered glancing back at me through the rearview mirror.
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me anything in-depth about her, other than she’s a nice girl, at least tell me how you came to know her,” I said leaning forward.
“That’s easy. She is Iris’s first cousin,” he replied with an amusing chuckle.
“Ooh,” I sighed aloud but thought, God, I hope they share the same DNA.
Focusing on the beautiful night scenery outside of my passenger window I grew silent. No one knew that I had already made airline reservations for a return trip to Florida the following afternoon. My sole intent tonight was to have a great time with Miles and Iris and this mystery woman I had yet to meet, then return to my villa and pack my things, turn in for the night, and head for home the next day. To go out and enjoy this last night was the least I could do for myself and for my uncle who had sponsored this extravagant visit. God, what was he thinking? I asked myself.
Miles glided the BMW to a gentle stop at the entrance of the upscale Hyatt-Regency Hotel. A Mercedes limousine sat in waiting behind us and another luxury car behind it. Exiting the car Miles turned the car key over to the valet parking personnel and we entered the double door entrance held opened by a uniformed doorman.
We entered into an expansive atrium area with an abundance of Saga palms, tree ferns, and other tropical plants rising out of large red clay planters. Palm trees, at least twenty feet tall, reached skyward in the background. Aside from the area where Palm trees jotted out of the ground, the floor was made up of large diamond-shaped tiles, all pearl white and all buffed to a shine. Ahead of us well-dressed patrons talked in place or meandered about. Some of them seemed to migrate down a wide corridor where music seemed to originate from. No doubt, that’s where the ballroom was located for the Greek sponsored dance.
As we made our approach, it sounded more and more like reggae music permeating out of the ballroom, especially whenever someone opened the door to enter or exit the hall. I gazed serendipitously at every woman in passing who appeared unescorted. Women of African, Latin American, and European descent; they were all represented in this festive gathering. Hundreds of lovely women, perhaps even one mystery woman, graced the corridors of this magnificent and luxurious hotel. Miles sensed my anticipation and assured me that my mystery woman would be along soon. I nodded but said nothing.
Once we reached the ballroom entrance, Miles handed the attendant three invitations. After the back of our hands were stamped with ink, we joined the enthusiastic crowd of revelers inside the ballroom. Inside strategically placed blue and red lights provided a subdued and intimate atmosphere. On the dance floor, thirty or more couples danced to the foot-stomping beat of Bob Marley’s and the Wailers hit song Trenchtown Rock. By now Miles and Iris had taken to the dance floor and had vanished from view. Not wanting to hang my hopes on a woman who had yet to show her face, I scanned the collection of beauties standing along the walls either talking or watching other dancing couples. I spied one Latin beauty who I thought had been quietly observing me, as well, and made my way over to her. To my delight, she accepted my offer t
o dance.
Unaccustomed to the slow rhythmic and syncopated way they danced in St Thomas I tried my best to blend in and I believe I did a pretty decent job of it. It took me a couple of minutes to get the moves down but I finally got the hang of it. My dancing partner seemed to be impressed with my moves.
Three songs later we left the dance floor panting. I was exhausted; my dancing partner was as well. It had been a while since I had been on a dance floor. I asked her if I could call upon her later for another round of dancing and she said that she’d love to but that she had to leave to go check on her seven year old daughter who was feeling under the weather. Though her aunt was sitting for her, she had promised her that she’d return home before ten o’clock. It was nine thirty when I looked at my watch. Slightly disappointed, I thanked her for dancing with me and planted a kiss on her rosy cheek. She in turn, kissed me on the cheek with pursed lips and told me how fabulous a dancer I was. With a wave and a benevolent smile, she faded from view. At least I got her first name. It was Violet.
With little else to do but watch other people dance, I walked over to a refreshment table and got a cup of mango punch. By now Miles and Iris had returned to my side. They got drinks as well. Suddenly, his phone rang. He answered it but wasn’t long on it. Breaking into a broad smile, he told me not to move, that my mystery woman had finally arrived. Iris and I toasted our glasses and smiled, I nervously.
When Miles turned the corner a few minutes later escorting the mystery woman, my jaws dropped. I could not believe it. God, it was her - Leïla Renee Johns-St Martin of Antiqua. Miss Antiqua to be exact and the very woman I had seen at the fashion show in Ft Lauderdale with my uncle. I remembered catching a glimpse of her at the airport, as well. And then there were the dreams I had of her. I was stunned beyond belief. Though her appearance was totally unexpected, I’d have to say that I was pleasantly surprised.
As Miles introduced me to Leïla I wrestled with the thought of whether or not I should let it be known that I had met her before, albeit indirectly. I decided to abide my time and just go with the flow for now.
“Why, it’s my pleasure meeting you,” she said, her voice soft, sweet, and velvet smooth. “I apologize for arriving so late but I had a paper I was working on that I had to complete before coming here. I hope you understand.”
“Oh, you don’t have to apologize for that,” I said, thanking the man upstairs that she shared the same DNA as Iris. Beauty seemed to be a family trait. “Look, all that matter to me is that you’re here now and I am honored that you are.”
On that note, Miles and Iris refilled their half-full glasses with tropical punch and quietly made their exit, leaving Leïla in my trust and care. I was apprehensive, to say the least, but my confidence was growing with every gaze I exchanged with her warm receptive eyes. As a slow romantic tune played, I asked her if she’d care to join me on the dance floor. My confidence level shot up by a factor of five when she replied that she’d love nothing more than to dance with me. Taking her hand into mine I led her through a maze of couples gathering on the dance floor until I found a place for us to join together in dance.
The song was an international favorite entitled That’s The Way Of The World, by the world renowned band Earth, Wind, & Fire. As we rocked slowly in place I took great liberty searching her dreamy eyes. At about five feet, eight inches tall, her warm and supple body felt like a perfect match for my six foot muscular frame. God, I believed I could dance the night away with her in my arms and then some. When I leaned my head against hers and closed my eyes, her tropical scent made my paradise all the more real. When I opened my eyes and saw that she was still there I knew this walking dream was for real.
An upbeat tune spun next. It was a song and remix I knew quite well. It was entitled Funky Sensation by Gwen McCrae. It was immediately followed by a special remix of Love’s Got Me by the international English sensation known as Loose Ends. I was really down with the groove now, dipping and swaying and popping my fingers like I had been doing this all of my life. Leïla was quite a dancer herself as she matched my moves and enthusiasm. She was a natural at this art form, dancing away as though she was a Solid Gold dancer from the eighties. And she managed to do all of this with poise and without tearing her gaze away from me. She looked splendid; almost like royalty in her full-length gold colored gown, golden shoes, and gold earrings. Her luscious lips and delicate looking eyelids were even shaded lightly in gold. A gold colored flower was pinned on the left side of her head, which was pulled back into a French roll. Everything she wore, from clothing to makeup to jewelry complimented her cinnamon brown eyes and cinnamon brown complexion. And I told her so two songs later as we joined together for another romantic tune.
I spied Miles and Iris dancing a short distance away. We both traded smiles. He was wearing that all too self-confident I-know-I’ve-got-this-business-deal-sealed look. But he had a right to. I would sign over my United States citizenship if it meant keeping this lovely modern day goddess in my presence and hopefully in my world. It was hard to explain but everything seemed to fall in place once Leïla arrived on the scene. Then I thought of my wise uncle. I knew right then that I would have to eat crow and gladly when I called him to say how right he was and how wrong I had been. My respect for him, already as high as could be, went through the stratosphere. Wisdom certainly came with age and experience and my uncle had a lot of both.
After a heavenly rendition of Let’s Make It Last by soulful balladeer Keith Sweat and with her hand still held by mine, I led Leïla off of the dance floor and into the wide corridor where we could talk and also hear one another. Along the way we stopped at a table and took glasses of punch in hand. As we walked further along, we entered an outdoor tropical garden where a few other couples had gathered to talk and share a romantic moonlit sky.
“I am having such a great time Marcus and I owe it all to you,” she said, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
“No, I owe this wonderful night to you Leïla,” I came back with a handsome smile. “I must admit that I wasn’t having that great of a time until you showed up.”
“Are you sure about that,” she said with an amusing smile as she lifted her hand and lightly touched my cheek. “It appears that someone was having a good time before my arrival.”
“Oh, that,” I stammered remembering that my former dance partner Violet had kissed my cheek before leaving to go check on her ill daughter. So I quickly explained, “Well, there was one young lady who honored me with a dance or two but that was all. I mean, I didn’t even know if you were going to show up or not.”
“I’m just teasing Marcus,” she said as a smile spread across her lovely face, then to my surprise, she planted a tender kiss on my other cheek. “Now, that should even the score,” she said gazing deeply into my already bewitched eyes.
“Even the score?” I pondered aloud.
“Well, I mean in the sense that I kept you waiting and wondering while you, uncertain about whether or not I would make an appearance, sought entertainment by another beauty instead of waiting for my arrival,” she explained, her gaze still locked on mine. “So we’re even now.”
“But I didn’t know you then,” I answered in my defense.
“Strange, though Marcus. It seems as though we’ve met before,” she said without hesitation.
“But we have,” I said as we sat down on a concrete bench next to a kidney-shaped pond full of large tropical fish.
“In our dreams you suppose,” she came back.
“No, I mean we’ve actually met before,” I insisted.
Leïla gave me a puzzled look, her eyes searching mine in anticipation of the explanation she hoped I’d provide.
I continued.
“You didn’t see me but I saw you in Ft Lauderdale at the fashion show.”
“You mean you were there!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, I was there, both my uncle and I.”
“Wow, I don’t remember seeing you, though I wished that
I had.”
“Well, I tried to locate you after the show when we were backstage but I could not find you. I wanted so badly to meet you. I was dismayed when I couldn’t find you.”
“Yes,” she said as she revisited that night in her mind. “I remember now. One of the girls wasn’t feeling well after the show so I escorted her back to her room and made certain that she was all right. I apologize for missing out on such an opportunity to meet you.”
“Oh, but there was one other time, as well,” I added, keeping the suspense alive.
“There was another time we met?” she blurted, wearing a confused look.
“At the airport the following day,” I answered. “Now think about the events of that afternoon there at the terminal.”
Probing her memory bank I could see her mind actively sorting through that day’s events until she finally looked at me beaming, her mouth parting slightly. “There was some sort of bomb scare and in the confusion we were all ushered back into the screening area. I remember talking to my friends and looking at the monitor screens for flight information. But now when I think about it, I do remember a very handsome young man staring my way. I could never forget that look.”
“And what kind of look was that?” I asked curiously, yet playfully.
“If I were to break it down for you, I’d say that it was probing, yet not intrusive; intense, yet not intimidating; breathtaking, yet not suffocating. And that look radiated from you Marcus. You were the one. Yes, we met and in a special way, one void of words but full of thought and expression.”
Island Love Page 4