After the End

by Brenda Barrett

  He chuckled. "I can do without the butler, but the thought of you at my beck and call was extremely tempting."

  Colleen said submissively, "Okay, sir."

  "No, you are not going to do the subservient thing and call me sir." Enrique grinned. "I forbid you to. Right now, I want you as my housekeeper to watch daybreak with me."

  Colleen sighed. "But what about breakfast? I need to get myself acquainted with the service area so that I can fix breakfast."

  "I rarely eat breakfast before ten," Enrique said with a small grin, "and I am used to getting my own. As a matter of fact, I usually hit the gym at six. There is an indoor gym here but the beach looks better, don't you think?"

  "Well, er, yes."

  "I am happy you think that way," Enrique declared, "because I want you to join me when I go jogging this morning."

  "But Enrique this is not the way...a housekeeper is supposed to do housework."

  Enrique nodded. "And you will do housework, I promise, but there is really nothing to do here. Everything is minty new and freshly unwrapped, not even a speck of dust anywhere. Can I have the pleasure of your company while I go jogging?"

  "I don't have anything to wear," Colleen said smugly. And I can't go jogging in my uniform."

  Enrique grinned. "Complimentary gym wear is in the guest room, can you imagine? The Lopezes think of everything for their guests."

  Colleen rolled her eyes and muttered. "I am not a guest."

  "Go change," Enrique turned to go into the house. "Meet me out here in fifteen minutes."

  *****

  Luxury. Colleen looked around the guest room. She had already gone to the kitchen and couldn't believe how well equipped it was. She took out the housekeeper job duties and looked it over. She was supposed to report to a Miss Gillings, who would send over any supplies from the main guesthouse that she needed to make her guests comfortable. Miss Gillings would also be supervising her.

  She looked around the room. She was sure that Miss Gillings would not approve her getting into clothes that were meant for guests and going jogging with Enrique. That was not in her job description.

  "Come on," Enrique said, knocking at the door and pushing it open. "Do you know what torture it is to have the sea below and not run in it? What's that?" He pointed to her job description.

  "My duties," Colleen said, shaking it at him. "I don't see jogging on it."

  "Forget about that," Enrique said, "let's go."

  "Okay, okay," Colleen said, turning toward the closet and opening it. There was a guest robe, a swimsuit in the Jamaican colors, and a black tracksuit that was wrapped in plastic.

  She changed quickly and headed to the veranda. Enrique was stretching on the lawn.

  When they headed down the stairs leading to the beach, he inhaled deeply. "Nothing like sea air first thing in the morning."

  Colleen watched him as he ran to the edge of the water and then laughed a carefree laugh, his hair whipping around him as a gentle wind blew from the sea.

  "It's a pity it is going to be a rainy day," she said to him.

  "Nonsense." Enrique joined her on the sand. "How can you possibly know that?"

  "It's a given that most people who live by the sea side can predict the weather. It's coded in our DNA."

  "Is that so?" Enrique laughed.

  "Yup." Colleen nodded. "Many times the fishermen around here know exactly how the weather will go just by looking at the horizon. My dad was a fisherman, his father was a fisherman...It's a thing with us. We make better forecasters than the meteorological service."

  Enrique looked at her curiously. "Do you have siblings?"

  "No." Colleen shook her head. "I was an only child. My mom had several miscarriages, then she had me. I was her miracle child."

  "Hmm." Enrique nodded. "So where are your parents now?"

  "My parents moved up in the hills a couple of years ago. My dad has gone into farming; he has several acres up there. They have a view of the sea, though, and that's okay with them. My mom is a housewife and very busy with community activities. She has adopted quite a few children from the community and busies herself with church work. She is more than fulfilled. I think they hardly miss me anymore. They are always so busy."

  "Why didn't you go with them to the hills after Isaiah died?" Enrique asked, looking at her curiously.

  "Because..." Colleen bit her lip. "I have a job here. I live in a place where I am comfortable. I guess I am a big girl now. I haven't lived with my parents for years. I wouldn't want to go back and live with them."

  And she had somehow thought that if she stayed at Miss Lou's Isaiah would come back. She didn't add that, though.

  Enrique stopped walking and looked at her knowingly. "You still live at Isaiah's place?"

  "Yes." Colleen stopped and then pushed her hand in the tracksuit pocket.

  "You still love him?"

  Colleen looked at Enrique sharply. "I don't want to talk about it."

  Enrique nodded and inhaled. "I see, it's like that. I have competition for your affections. Competing with a saint is going to be one hell of an uphill battle."

  "I didn't say Isaiah was a saint," Colleen pointed out.

  "But dead people always are." Enrique took her hand and tucked it in his. "We forget their annoyances and their little quirks and the things that drove us crazy about them and we remember only the good things, mainly because we loved them so much and wish that they were still around. How am I doing so far?"

  Colleen dragged her hand from his. She couldn't manage the tingling awareness that him touching her gave, especially while talking about Isaiah.

  "Isaiah didn't have any quirks or any little thing that drove me crazy."

  "Okay," Enrique said, "you just proved my point, though, with that passionate little statement. But I am not going to speak ill of the dead." He changed the subject abruptly. "Race me to that coconut tree."

  Colleen looked at him crossly. "I don't feel like running."

  "If you win you can call me sir and treat me like the boss you want me to be and keep me at a safe arm’s length and I won't cross that line. I will even call you Mrs. Reid and I will request that you dust my furniture dutifully and scurry past me when you walk around, with your head down. I will even demand that you bake me bread, fresh every day, like a nineteenth century servant."

  Colleen contemplated his statement while she watched his laughing expression.

  Enrique moved closer. "If I win, you give me a chance to break down those walls you have up." He moved even closer to her, his pink lips hovering near hers. "And I get to kiss you. You know you want me to."

  "Let’s go," Colleen said, taking off.

  Enrique laughed and ran past her, easily reaching the coconut tree first. "I won!" he said when Colleen reached him, panting, "and I gave you a fair head start."

  Chapter Six

  It rained that day and for five whole days after. Colleen and Enrique had a pattern: they ran along the beach in the mornings, even while it was drizzling. Most days Enrique shared stories about his life and his family and then he'd prepare a high protein breakfast, forcing her to eat with him.

  By lunchtime he would reluctantly allow her to make a light lunch and then they'd eat in the kitchen together, though she thought it was highly inappropriate.

  He didn't have sophisticated tastes in food. He preferred when she did simple dishes. She was learning that he was a lover of fish, prepared in any manner.

  He spent some of his day in the office doing business, and Colleen usually got to do actual work then, not that the place needed much cleaning. After that he would go swimming, whether it was raining or not. Colleen found it odd how much he loved swimming in the rain.

  "Come on," he would urge, "it's nice out here."

  She had taken to carrying her bathing suits and several changes of clothes so that she could join him swimming. She never wore her uniform anymore. Enrique said it made him uncomfortable to see her in uniform.

  B
y the third day he had her acting as his photographic assistant as he went from villa to villa photographing the different villas for his real estate website. There were ten villas in all, each decorated differently. They had to do outside shots whenever they had any sun and Enrique especially loved taking pictures of the sunset and of her posing for him in the sunset.

  "Do you know how happy this makes me?" he would ask, snapping away. Sometimes she got tired of him and his constant picture taking, and would pull away his camera to take snapshots of him as well. He had given her a crash course on how to use his sophisticated camera.

  "Tit for tat," she would declare. He smiled and posed for her and then would set up the camera to take pictures of them both.

  "For posterity," Enrique declared. He would hug her. He was a tactile person and she would shiver because she was beginning to crave his touch.

  If Colleen were honest with herself, she would admit that she was having an unusually good time. The days seemed so much brighter, things tasted sweeter; she was laughing more than she ever had in her entire life.

  She was usually reluctant to leave after dinner and the obligatory evening ritual they had of going on the veranda and playing board games. They talked about everything and nothing and she stared in his eyes, reluctant to look away. Reluctant to consider that this was happening to her.

  She was falling for him too fast and too hard; it was like a fairytale to her. She had been friends with Isaiah for years before they had even shared their first kiss but every time she looked at Enrique these days that was all she thought about: how his lips would feel on hers.

  He would drop her home, and each time it was getting harder and harder to convince herself that she should keep her distance from him.

  Tonight was no exception. He turned down her street and stopped at her gate. He turned to her impatiently.

  "Colleen, I am hosting a family get-together this Saturday night. I think it would be wise if you move in, don't you think? It would certainly make this whole going back and forth easier for you."

  "Hold on a sec." Colleen twisted to look at him. "You are hosting a family dinner in two days and you are just telling me?"

  "Well, yes," Enrique shrugged. "It's no biggie. I'll ask the guesthouse to cater for it. I can't have you cooking and serving, can I? You are invited."

  "But..." Colleen inhaled sharply, "it's a family thing."

  "Yes. So?" Enrique pushed her hair from her face and touched her cheek. "It's time I officially introduced you to the family as my girlfriend."

  "And you want me to live with you?" Colleen said, a tremor in her voice, and her lips trembled. "I am not that kind of girl. Sorry."

  "No premarital sex," Enrique said easily. "I know, I like that about you. I promise I will keep my hands to myself until we get married. But then all bets are off."

  "Married? Enrique!" Colleen yelped. "It's been four days."

  "Five if you count the journey from Kingston," Enrique said easily.

  "I can't get married just like that," Colleen said, her heart doing a weird thumpity-thump skipping that had her almost gasping for breath. "It's too fast."

  Enrique looked into her eyes solemnly. "Is it? Life can be so fickle. Time is relative. I don't want to wait an eternity for us to be together and do all of that long, drawn-out ritual that society thinks is so necessary. I know I love you. I know I want us to be together."

  Colleen bit her lip uncertainly. "But I am not sure. I want to be certain, I want us to be friends, I want to be comfortable around you without this constant breathlessness."

  "We can't be together and comfortable," Enrique whispered. "There is too much sexual attraction. You have felt this, si?" His voice became husky. "But if comfortable is what you want..."

  Colleen swallowed. "Wait. I am confused. I don't know what I want. I had this plan that if I ever got married again, we'd be friends first and then after a long enough time, we would tie the knot."

  "You would recreate what you had with Isaiah." Enrique looked at her with a half smile. "I am not Isaiah."

  He leaned closer to her. She could smell his aftershave. It made her breasts tighten in arousal. He pressed his lips to hers, exploratory at first, and then he deepened the kiss.

  Intense excitement surged inside Colleen; she opened her mouth passionately. Curling her arms around his neck, she yearned to press his body closer to hers, desperately longing for him to pull her close and crush her up against him.

  Nothing mattered now but this connection with Enrique. She was in a wonderland of sensual discovery. When he pulled his lips away, she gasped in protest.

  "Maybe it's not a good idea for you to move in before we get married," Enrique said roughly. "Is this Sunday okay? We can have the dinner Saturday night and then get married Sunday."

  Colleen looked at him dazedly. Her lips were still throbbing, her body on fire. "I don't know."

  "You do." Enrique leaned down and kissed her again.

  It took her a few minutes to scramble out of the car. Her legs were trembling. She had never felt like this before, like a sensual person and so aware of her body.

  When she stumbled into the house and lay on the bed she didn't turn on the lights; she didn't want to see Isaiah's pictures or feel the sense that she was betraying him. She wanted to bask in the new tremors her body was going through.

  Everything was moving too fast, but she needed this. She curled into a ball. Sex was not a good reason to get married. She wasn't even sure that what she felt for Enrique was love. She imagined her pastor's wizened old face saying, "It is better to marry than to burn," and Lord, she was burning.

  *****

  That Saturday night Colleen still didn't know where she stood. Was she still a housekeeper for the Lopezes, a chef at Sea Breeze, or Enrique's soon-to-be wife? His family had arrived one by one at the villa, and she felt nervy and uncertain. He had his hand clamped around her waist. He greeted his mother and father and introduced her as his fiancée. His parents looked a little shell-shocked but recovered quickly. His father took a longer time to recover; he looked as if somebody had forgotten to update him. She could see that he had a whole lot of questions.

  His grandfather, Roberto, didn't speak much English but she reckoned that he welcomed her to the family in Spanish. His grin was wide and he pumped her hand with his roughened palm repeatedly.

  His grandmother, a tall imposing lady with an erect bearing and long, snow-white hair reaching her waist, smiled at her and then hugged her warmly. Her eyes were the same as Enrique and his sister; surprisingly the eyes had skipped his mother, Constanza. She had deep black eyes like her father’s.

  Renata came in, greeted everybody effusively, heard that she was Enrique's fiancée and started chuckling. "Little brother, you don't let any grass grow under your feet, do you?"

  "Just like your parents," Elizabeth said, when they were all settled down on chairs on the veranda. "Constanza carried Franco home after a two-week vacation in New York and introduced him as her boyfriend. She had met him during her last week there. The week after she came home they ran off and got married. I thought she was pregnant…she wasn’t. It turns out the two of them couldn't wait."

  Franco cleared his throat. "Well, that was then. That sort of thing doesn't work for everyone."

  "I knew Colleen in high school," Enrique said, pulling her even closer to him in the seat. A lovely breeze was coming off the water, swinging the paper lanterns in the wind. Enrique looked down at her intently, blocking out the light.

  "How do your parents feel about this sudden engagement?" Constanza asked Colleen.

  "I haven't told them yet," Colleen said softly. "I haven't really gotten the chance. They don't have any telephone signal up in the hills where they live. I usually see them once per month."

  "Oh," Constanza said disapprovingly. "You should let your mother know."

  Colleen felt chastised, though she thought her parents wouldn't care one way or the other if they were invited to a weddi
ng. They just wanted her to be happy.

  She and Isaiah had gotten married in a community wedding. Her mother had baked several cakes, her father had made the wedding arch, her aunt had sewn her dress, and Miss Lou had helped to cook. It had been a huge affair, with the church packed to the rafters with a sea of familiar grinning faces. Maureen had been her matron of honor. Greg had been Isaiah's best man.

  "Have you set a date for the wedding yet?" Franco asked, a pleat in his brow.

  "Yes," Enrique said in anticipation. "Tomorrow. You are all invited. It will be right here in the garden."

  "No, Enrique," Constanza protested. "What's the hurry? I know you knew Colleen from high school but it has been years. You two need the time to get to know each other again."

  "Ah, this is déjà vu," Elizabeth cackled. "Remember how I begged and pleaded with you to wait, Constanza, and you didn't even invite us to your wedding? At least I am invited to Enrique's wedding. Thank you, my grandson; Roberto and I will be here."

  Renata laughed and winked at Colleen. "That's why it is always good to have Grandma over when big announcements are being made. She remembers Mommy's wild old days."

  Constanza sniffed. "I just think you should take time, have counseling, do the whole nine yards. Make the whole world know. You are the first son; this is your first marriage."

  "But not Colleen's," Enrique said. "So I don't think a big deal has to be made."

  "You are a divorcee?" Constanza asked, putting her hand on heart as if she had heard a bad word.

  "No." Colleen smoothed down her black dress slowly, avoiding Constanza's look of horror. "I am a widow."

  "Oh." Constanza's look changed to sympathy. "Oh."

  There was silence for a while and then Renata broke it. "Where are you both going to live?"

  "New York," Enrique said at the same time Colleen said, "Here."

  Enrique said quickly, "New York is where I live and have my business. Remember?"

  Colleen looked at him swiftly. "But..."