by Joan Rylen
Al flagged down the waiter and ordered a bottle of Vouvray, Vivian’s all-time favorite white wine.
“So are you Cubs fans or White Sox fans,” Wendy asked, “and why does Chicago have two teams?”
“Sox fans all the way.” Adrienne held up her champagne glass as a toast. “There is no other team.”
Al’s face turned red at the mention of the Cubs. Okay, that discussion was closed. His phone rang, and he was off to answer it. Three rings in less than an hour.
What’s with that?
“Al works really hard at the restaurant,” Adrienne said. “He came down here to relax but he’s been on the phone non-stop. That damn thing might as well be duct-taped to his face. I feel like tossing it in the ocean.”
“I understand how hard it can be to leave work behind and totally relax.” Wendy rolled her shoulders. “It must be hard for him to leave the restaurant in the hands of others while he’s away. Maybe you should try a couple’s massage?”
“He’s got his cousin running the restaurant and shouldn’t be worried about it,” Adrienne replied. “I already tried the couples massage, and he refused to turn his phone off. It rang twice and ruined my massage. Pisses me off.”
“The longer it takes him to relax the longer you get to stay in paradise,” Vivian reminded her.
“Cheers to that!” Adrienne held up her glass again.
Wendy excused herself, needing to powder her nose. As she left the restroom, she stopped to dig a pebble out of her sandal and overheard Al talking on the phone in the men’s room, in Spanish. “Vamos a la fiesta de la noche del Viernes.”
Wonder whose party he’s going to Friday night? Wendy thought as she walked back to the table.
“So Al can speak Spanish?” Wendy asked Adrienne as she sat down.
“No. He can barely manage ‘hola’,” Adrienne said.
Huh, Wendy thought. I thought that was Al’s Chicago accent mixed with Spanish, but maybe it was someone else I overheard?
Al returned to the table just as the waiter arrived with the Vouvray.
He tasted the wine, nodded his approval then asked, “What are you ladies up to tonight?”
“A friend of ours suggested Club Caliente.” Vivian drained her champagne glass. “We wanted to go salsa dancing, and it’s supposed to be the best place in town. Y’all should join us.”
Al started to shake his head, but Adrienne said, “We’d love to. I don’t know how to salsa dance, but it sounds like fun!”
Al gave her a look so she put on her puppy dog face.
“Sounds like a plan then,” he said, giving in.
Vivian suggested a toast with the wine: “To spicy-hot salsa dancing aye aye aye!” Clink!
A swarm of servers removed their appetizer plates and delivered dinner. Everyone was quiet while they dug in. The fish was perfectly grilled, and the sides complimented it well. Vivian loved it in combination with the Vouvray. This is hands down the best dinner I’ve had since I don’t know when. It’s not like Rick ever took me out for something like this.
After they finished dinner the waiter offered soufflés for dessert. They couldn’t eat another bite so they politely declined.
As the group left for Club Caliente, Wendy saw a scowl cross Al’s face. She glanced over at the poolside bar and saw the creepy guy with the ponytail. He had a clear view of their table from where he sat. Wendy glanced at Al, their eyes locked for a moment but then he looked away.
CHAPTER 17
THE GIRLS, Al and Adrienne strolled down the sandy streets of Playa del Carmen, making their way to Club Caliente. Children still played in the street, though it was well after dark. A few other tourists were out, in search of libations.
“So how did y’all meet?” Vivian asked Al and Adrienne.
“I was a Luvabull,” Adrienne began the story.
“A whattabull?”
“A Luvabull,” Adrienne said. “It was 15 years ago. I was a cheerleader for the Chicago Bulls, they’re called Luvabulls. Al is a huge Bulls fan so he hosted a charity event at his restaurant. The Luvabulls were the grand finale auction item. He bought me in the auction and we went on a date. I knew the first night he was the one.”
“He bought you in an auction?” Vivian asked.
“The single girls agreed to be auctioned off to the highest bidder for a date. All of the money went to charity so I agreed to be in it. It was the best decision of my life — I met my sweetheart.” She took his hand as they walked.
“I bet you cost him a pretty penny. What’d you go for?” Vivian asked.
“Viv!” Kate yelled at her. “That’s not nice.”
“It’s okay,” Adrienne said. “He bought me for $5,000, and I’m totally worth it!”
Al brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “You are worth it, baby,” then he let her hand go and smacked her ass.
“Trust me; he’s paid for a lot more over the years.” Adrienne not-so-subtlety adjusted her boobs.
They all laughed.
A few minutes later they arrived at Club Caliente and Vivian thought it was aptly named. It was just that, hot. The a/c was broken, non-existent, or they didn’t turn it on. Geez! The thick humidity turned Vivian’s hair into a frizz-ball and kicked her sweat glands into overdrive. No sweat circles, though, cuz she was spaghetti strappin’ it.
All of the people in the club looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine. Young, sexy, beautiful. They must stay in shape walking up the gazillion stairs to get in here, Vivian thought.
Though hot and humid inside, the music invigorated Vivian and made her want to dance, but she was nervous because she’d never been salsa dancing and was afraid it would be apparent.
Al grabbed a great table close to the dance floor and ordered a bottle of Champagne. The girls didn’t notice its arrival because they were mesmerized by the dancers, who looked like professionals. Vivian heard the pop of the cork and suddenly someone landed in her lap screaming, “Get down! Get down!”
Momentarily startled, but quickly recovered, Vivian found Arturo’s grinning face between her boobs.
“What, did it sound like a gunshot?” Vivian asked sarcastically.
He looked at her sheepishly and said, “False alarm.”
False alarm, my ass.
Arturo looked pretty fantastic out of uniform. His jeans fit just right and his Guayabera showed off bulging biceps. His arms reminded Vivian of a boyfriend in college. Good memories flooded in.
She cracked a smile and was brought back to the present when Lucy introduced Arturo to Al and Adrienne. “I see you’ve got good instincts,” Al said to Arturo with a smirk. He looked at Vivian and said, “I think he just wanted to get a closer look at your ladies.”
Arturo grinned. “You can never be too careful.”
“You speak pretty good English,” Al said.
“I lived with my aunt in San Diego for four years when I was a kid,” Arturo answered. “And my English helps me get to know the ladies who vacation here.”
Lucy glanced toward the bar and smiled. “Well, well, looky who else is here.”
Vivian turned to see Jon and Pierre. Speaking of nice bodies!
“Those Canadians are totally stalking us,” Lucy said with a smile.
“I’ve seen them at the hotel,” Al said. “They’re hard to miss in those shirts.”
Jon and Pierre had on tropical shirts again with bold, bright colors.
“I’ve seen them around town hanging out,” Arturo noted. “They’ve been in Playa for a month or so.”
“So you keep tabs on all the tourist?” Vivian asked.
“I’m posted near La Vida Da Playa. And those two stand out,” he laughed.
Adrienne sucked down her Champagne. “Come on, Al. I’m ready to dance.”
Al reached for his shirt pocket and checked his phone.
He’s so trying to get out of this.
“I might miss a call.”
Lame-o.
“Pleas
e, baby…for me.” Adrienne batted her long eyelashes.
Al got up reluctantly. “Okay, just one song, but if anyone slings sweat on me, it’s over.”
Off they went, Adrienne smiling as she drug Al to the dance floor.
Vivian decided to say hello to Jon and Pierre and walked to the bar. “Hello, boys. Are you stalking us or what?”
Jon smiled. “No, of course not, though I am glad we ran into you.”
“I’m glad, too.”
“You ready to salsa?” Jon asked.
“I don’t know how.”
“We were here a few nights ago and a señorita taught me some moves. I bet I can lead you through it.”
Jon grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor. She gave in. “The girls are over there, go say hi,” Vivian said to Pierre. She had a quick thought of ‘turn around,’ but then decided to try and fake it. She was semi-coordinated. How hard could salsa dancing be?
Their first song was thankfully slower than the one before. Jon did seem to know what he was doing, and for a guy with such pasty skin, he could sure move his hips. Who was this señorita who taught him to salsa? Did the lessons go beyond the dance floor?
Though she hadn’t been dancing long, she could tell that it got the hormones raging. Lots of pelvic action. She couldn’t help it, she wanted to know more. “There’s no way you learned all of this in one night.”
“You’re right, I’m busted,” Jon admitted. “I loved the movie Dirty Dancing when I was a kid and wanted to dance like Patrick Swayze. I convinced my mom to let me take dancing lessons when I was a teenager. To this day, my dad doesn’t know. He would have flipped. He was very much a man’s man, you know.”
“Really? Lessons?”
He looked around, as if anyone was listening. “Nobody knows I did that. I’ve never admitted it to anyone, especially my friends. I was embarrassed.”
“Well, let me be the first to tell you that your lessons paid off. And your closet dancing secret is safe with me.”
He stopped dancing, wrapped his arms around her, leaned down and kissed her. The moment felt strange because they were in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by at least 30 people, yet it felt oddly intimate. He pulled back and grinned, and got back to dancing.
***
Wendy, Kate and Arturo were the only ones left at the table. Pierre had whisked Lucy off to dance, despite her protests. They watched as Adrienne danced and Al attempted to.
Wendy saw the kiss between Vivian and Jon and nudged Kate. “Check them out.”
“Ooooouuuu,” Kate replied. “Things are getting even hotter in here.”
Arturo didn’t comment on the kiss, just polished off his glass of Champagne.
“Good for Viv, she needs a little fun,” Wendy said, using napkin to wipe off her brow. “I’m suffocating in here. I need some air.”
“There’s a bar outside on the balcony.” Arturo poured himself another glass. “You and Kate go. I’ll stand guard over your stuff.”
“Thanks,” Kate said.
They made their way to the balcony and picked a pair of cushy-looking stools at the bar.
The bartender came over and laid out two beverage napkins. “Hola, señoritas. Tequila shots?”
“Dos margaritas, por favor,” Wendy said, throwing out that high school Spanish again.
He mixed them up with flair, tossed in two limes and served them with a smile, saying, “Tiempo Loco tequila, the best.”
Wendy took a sip. Vacation rocks and so does my margarita!
As they sipped, they scoped out the balcony action. They decided the bartender wasn’t hard on the eyes, and some younger guys at the end of the bar weren’t too shabby either.
Wendy recognized a guy sitting in the corner of the balcony. She leaned over and whispered to Kate, “That’s the same pony-tailed guy we saw at the Purple Peacock last night, today at the dock and just now at our hotel.”
“Where?”
Wendy gestured with her head. “Over there.”
Kate glanced at him then back at Wendy. “What do you mean he was just at our hotel?”
“After dinner. I saw him at the poolside bar and Al saw him, too. Al looked like he recognized him and was pissed, but tried to play it off when he caught me looking at him.”
“That’s weird.”
Both girls turned their heads to look at him again and saw he was watching them. They quickly turned back to the bar, then Wendy turned her head the other direction, trying to look nonchalant. “I don’t believe this. Look, there’s the short guy and the two girls we saw Jon and Pierre with last night and again today on the boat.”
“What the heck?” Kate replied. “He’s not the most attractive guy. What does he have going for him to keep the arm candy hanging around?”
“There’s no telling. Maybe he has some sizable assets we’re not aware of,” she snickered.
“Yuck!” Kate replied. “I don’t want to think about Shorty’s assets.”
“Ha! Me, either. What’s with seeing the ponytail guy, the short guy and those two ladies everywhere we go?”
“I dunno. I realize Playa isn’t that big of a place, but come on!”
“Let’s go back inside and see how our salsa dancers are doing. I want to get away from the creepy Ponytail guy.”
CHAPTER 18
INSIDE THE hot and steamy Club Caliente, Lucy and Pierre had given up on dancing and were back at the table, as were Jon and Vivian, but Al and Adrienne were still movin’ and shakin’.
Arturo asked Kate, “You ready to learn from a pro?”
Kate laughed. “I’ll give it one song.”
The group at the table watched as Kate and Arturo danced. “She’s doing pretty good,” Vivian commented.
“She’s more talented than I am,” Lucy said.
“So, how did you do with the salsa?” Wendy asked her.
Lucy looked at Pierre and dabbed at her brow with a napkin.
Pierre laughed and answered for her. “I’m afraid she didn’t have the best partner. The good dancers make this look easy, but it’s harder than you think.”
Lucy smiled. “It was fun, but the dance floor is too crowded. Grosses me out, all those sweaty people.”
Kate and Arturo returned, having danced just the one song. Kate’s sundress stuck to her legs and Vivian noticed Arturo glancing at her ass when she sat down. Men.
“This place needs to invest in a/c. I’m burnin’ up,” Kate said, fanning herself with her hand.
She titled up her champagne glass and drank every last drop. Arturo pulled the bottle from the ice bucket and refilled everyone’s glass with a bit more bubbly.
“Have fun?” Vivian asked Kate.
“Oh yeah,” Kate answered. “I’d love to come back here with Shaun someday. Maybe a second honeymoon.”
Arturo cleared his throat.
“You’re a great dancer, Arturo. Thanks for the spin.”
He grinned at her. “Anytime.”
Lucy gave Vivian a sly smile and a nudge. “Looks like you’re having a good time.”
Vivian ignored her sarcasm. “Yeah, Jon seems to know his way around the dance floor.”
Wendy knew Vivian would appreciate a conversation diversion, so she said to Jon and Pierre, “Hey, y’all’s friend, the short dude, is outside with his female bookends.”
Jon looked surprised. “Didn’t know they’d be here tonight. I’ll go check in. Pierre?”
“No, you go ahead. I’ll catch him later.”
As Jon walked away, Kate asked Pierre, “How does the short guy keep two girlfriends around? He’s not that cute. And, well, he’s pretty darn short.”
Arturo snorted back a laugh.
“Don’t know,” Pierre said. “We met him when we first got here. We’ve hung out with him a few times, mostly on his boat, which is bad ass. He’s probably pretty successful.” He paused and then added, “I think the girls are related somehow.”
“Gross! That’s disgusting!”
Lucy yelled. “They aren’t his sisters, are they?”
Pierre laughed. “Not related to him, to each other. I think they are cousins or something. Must like to keep things in the family?”
They all laughed at that, even though it was disgusting.
Arturo informed them, “I know who you’re talking about. I think the girls are second cousins, even though they look like sisters.”
After a few minutes, Jon walked back inside, looking perturbed. He sat down next to Pierre and shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Pierre asked.
“I’m not sure what the hell just happened outside,” Jon replied, sounding pissed. “Julio sure has a short fuse. He wasn’t at the table with Eva and Josephina when I first went out there so I sat down for a few minutes, you know, to wait for him to come back. We were laughing when he walked up and I guess maybe he thought I was hitting on them. He was furious, started shouting at me to get up, and when I did, he shoved me.”
“Julio Zapata?” Arturo asked.
“Yeah. Is this typical of him?”
“Más o menos,”Arturo said, gesturing with his hand.
The girls looked at Wendy for translation. “More or less.”
“Maybe he’s drunk?” Pierre asked. “What would have changed since this afternoon?”
“Beats me.”
Just as Jon finished speaking, Shorty and The Ladies came in from the balcony and walked straight to the exit. Shorty hustled through the club and didn’t even look their way. One of the girls gave a quick sideways glance toward Jon.
“Oh well, Viv, you ready to get back to dancing?”
She sucked down the bit of Champagne that was left in her glass. “I’m in!”
This time on the dance floor things were gettin’ steamy, and it wasn’t just from the heat. One minute they were dancing and the next they were kissing. Funny how alcohol, music and the heat will do that to a girl. I’ll have to thank Al again for the Champagne.
The girls “woo hoo-ed” them so Vivian gave a little wave and keep shakin’ her moneymaker.
Jon’s a hottie, Vivian thought. He had good rhythm and could shake his hips with the best of them. He was pasty, but he made white guys look good, contrary to the old cliché.