2 Queenie Baby - Out of Office (10 page)

And then the strangest thing happened.

It started to rain. No warning other than a few fat plops on my head. No wind; just a monsoon downpour. Within seconds I was drenched. The table was flooded. The tuna ruined. All the lanterns and candles snuffed out.

Mark ran out onto the veranda. I could see his mouth say, "What the hell!" but the downpour made it too noisy to hear him.

I held up my hands and opened my arms to the sky in reply.

He dropped the plates he was carrying and walked through the downpour towards me. I held out my hands to him. He took them and pulled me towards him.

And then he kissed me, right there in the pouring rain.

A breeze fluttered the curtains as I watched the sunbeams dance across the floor. Birds squawked and chirped; the tropical paradise was up and at 'em. I rolled over and snuggled my back against Mark. He grunted and laid a heavy arm across my chest. I sighed at the skin to skin contact. Guess the birds weren't the only ones who were up and at 'em. I wiggled in closer.

"Keep doing that, and we may never get out of this bed," he murmured against my neck.

"Fine by me," I said, wiggling some more for good measure.

He growled and rolled on top of me. "You've got a lot of energy this morning."

"I've got a lot of catching up to do," I said, nipping at his lips.

Our lips met, and I maneuvered my hips so all the good parts lined up just right. "Seems like last night would've more than caught you up."

I giggled. "We might want to put a little away for a rainy day. Don't you think?"

"Sounds like a plan," he said, planting kisses on my neck.

*  *  *

An hour later, I was out of the shower and hunting down my phone. The freak of nature rain storm had turned a disappointing evening into some of the best sex of my life. Clothing and electronics had been tossed aside in our haste to get naked. I found my phone under a lounge chair on the veranda. It appeared to still be functional despite the rain. Only one text message from an unfamiliar number. A request for a 'parlay' this afternoon. I wasn't sure I could talk Mark into driving me back to San Juan today. Besides, I wanted to give this whole vacation thing a try.

I texted back my regrets.

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Ah, the divine Diana," said Carlos.

I smiled despite myself. "Hi, Carlos."

"The parlay must be today," he said. "I want you in the show."

I was stunned for a second. "Your show on Saturday in San Juan?"

"Aye, nothing else will do," he replied. "I've told those two scalawags I won't do the show without you. They want to meet today."

"Maybe we could meet later? Is there somewhere in between?" I asked.

"Hold the line, sweetie," he said. I heard him calling to someone. A rapid fire Spanish conversation ensued. "Got just the place. Ola Lola's in Isabella. Great place to run through some tunes together. How about five?"

"I've got to check with Mark. I'll send you a text."

"Have a lovely day, m'lady," he said before hanging up.

I sat there for a few minutes, staring out at the water and imagining playing to an audience of ten thousand people.

Mark came up behind me and handed me a delicious smelling cup of coffee. "Who was that?"

"Carlos," I replied and brought him up to speed.

He shook his head. "I knew this was too good to last. Maybe it'll start raining again." He looked up at the sky hopefully.

I jabbed him with my elbow. "This is a big opportunity for me," I said. I glanced at his shorts and running shoes. "What are you wearing?"

"I'm going for a run," he said.

"I didn't know you ran," I said, distracted by the thought of all the things I didn't know about him.

"Yep, I do. Want to join me?"

"That's a good one," I laughed. "I'm not much of a runner." More of a stumbler really.

"What do you do to stay in shape?" he asked curiously.

"I belong to a gym. Steppers, treadmills, that kind of thing," I said, not mentioning that it had been a couple of months since I had set foot in the place.

That seemed to satisfy him. He kissed me on the head and couldn't resist groping me under my robe. I swatted his hands away.

"Might be hard to run with all that going on downstairs," I said pointing at his shorts.

He grumbled and reluctantly headed back into the villa to grab a bottle of water before heading out on his run.

I wandered around the villa marveling at the beautiful furnishings and interesting art work. I grabbed some fruit from the fridge and decided to change into my bikini and get some sun.

My sunbathing lasted all of five minutes. I suck at lying around in the sun doing nothing. I texted Carlos that everything was a go for 5:00 p.m. I also asked him how David was doing. Surprisingly, Carlos responded that he was a 'right good mate' and that his sister had taken 'a shine' to him. I shook my head at that one. But different strokes for different folks. And Carlos and his entourage were definitely different folks.

I also googled Ola Lola's. It was a cute little garden bar in Isabella. I wondered what they'd think when our kooky crew rolled up in there.

I was playing through my beachiest set list on my guitar when Mark got back. He blew me a sweaty kiss, kicked off his shoes, peeled off his shorts, and dove straight into the pool.

Just the shear lack of modesty made me want to come back in the next life as a man. So much less to worry about.

He swam up to the edge of the pool and gave me a big smile. "Come on and skinny dip with me."

I laid my guitar down on the lounge chair and walked over to the edge of the pool. I started to do a little striptease. Unfortunately, Mark's discarded running shoes were right in my path. As I worked to untie my top and saunter towards to the edge of the pool, I tripped over a shoe and face-planted into the water.

"Wow, sexy," Mark teased, as I coughed and sputtered.

"See, that's why I don't even attempt things like that," I complained.

Mark pulled me against him and deftly untied my top. "No worries," he said, tugging at my bottoms, "that's what I'm here for."

He pulled me onto his lap, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. "I would've bet that between last night, this morning, and your run in the tropical heat, you'd be just a little tired out."

He paused between kisses. "You'd have lost that bet." He pulled me closer, tucking his arms around my hips, and carried me to a lounge chair.

*  *  *

It was almost two before we were dressed and eating a light lunch under the cool shade of the veranda. Mark had just gotten off the phone with Ed and Marcie. Andre had left him a message letting him know that Charles wouldn't be leaving Puerto Rico anytime soon. Extradition would take weeks.

"What a mess," I commented between bites of tuna salad.

Mark nodded. "They're just thrilled David is out of danger and has seen Charles for what he really is. Hard to believe he's hitting it off with the pirate crew," he added.

"I think Carlos' sister is making him feel welcome," I said.

My phone rang.

Uh-oh. It was The Count.

"Hello, Mr. Pyres," I said, answering the call.

"Ms. Hudson," he drawled, "the temporary Ms. Smith sent is completely unacceptable, and I can't reach anyone at the office. You
must
do something!"

I sighed. "I'm in Puerto Rico, Mr. Pyres. I'm not sure what I can do."

"Here," he replied, handing the phone to someone, "speak to her."

"Hello?" I said.

"Um, yeah, who's this?" a young voice asked.

"Diana, Mr. Pyres' regular temp. Who's this?" I asked.

"Um, I'm Tabitha," she said hesitantly. The she whispered, "You know he thinks he's like a vampire, right?"

"No, he just likes to wear capes, Tabitha. He's not actually a vampire."

"I mean like I totally have no problem with vampires. I love
Twilight
! But, well, he is kinda picky," she added.

"Yes, he is," I agreed. "But just go down to the hotel office, type what you can, and don't ask a lot of questions. You'll be fine."

"Um, like he handed me all these scribbly pieces of paper. I think like it's written in another language. Uh, I don't read vampire, you know." She cracked her gum.

What had Carol been thinking?

"He writes it in cursive. It's not another language."

"Oh," she said. "Okay, I'll get right on it." I heard faint beeping.

"Are you texting right now?" I asked incredulously.

"Uh, yeah," she said without shame.

"You need to put your phone in your purse and not take it out again until your shift is over," I replied firmly.

Tabitha gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose. Mark gave me a sympathetic smile and took my plate to the kitchen.

"That's like a little harsh," Tabitha sulked.

Instead of launching into a speech about professionalism, I said, "Mr. Pyres hates technology. I'm not sure how he would react to your texting all day. It could really freak him out." Maybe if I used her vernacular, she'd get the message.

There was a pause. "Like freak out how?"

Oh boy, I thought, I'm goin' to Hell for this one. "Well, he
does
dress like a vampire…" I said, clicking my teeth together suggestively.

She gave a little shriek.

The Count was back on the line. "Well, you certainly handled that well," he chuckled. "She's back to work with a fire in her belly."

"Just to be sure she comes back tomorrow, you should offer her an end of the week bonus."

"Brilliant!" replied The Count. "I do hope your trip is going well. Although, I must say, Diana, I do look forward to Monday. It's so hard to find good help. And," he whispered, "we do need to get back to our special project."

I shook my head. "Looking forward to it, Mr. Pyres."

I hung up. Mark was staring at me. "Did you just threaten that girl with a vampire bite?" he asked.

"I believe the ends justified the means."

*  *  *

Ola Lola's was described on its website as a garden bar and a favorite hot spot with locals. Technically, it was an open-air shack, sort of like an over-sized ticket booth. Bar stools on either side allowed the bartender and owner, Jack, to service customers with only a few steps. The tiny bar was surrounded by a deck littered with a dozen small tables. Tropical trees and flowers framed the deck, giving the bar its garden feel.

We parked along the side of the road in the grass. A few locals, fresh off the golf course, sat on the opposite side, arguing noisily about a particular round. There was no sign of Carlos and his entourage, so we took a seat at the bar.

"Well, hello there," Jack greeted us. He was a bear of a man, friendly and engaging. "Welcome, to Ola Lola's. What can I get you?

"What's your specialty drink?" I asked with a smile.

He took in my sporty sundress and blond hair piled high upon my head, and said suggestively, "I think a Barbie doll would be just the thing for you."

I laughed. "Sounds perfect."

Mark raised an eyebrow at the banter. "I'll have whatever's on tap."

Jack slammed his hand on the counter, saying loudly, "Now that's a plan!"

"I'm going to start insisting you wear a burka when we go out," Mark grumbled good-naturedly.

"Fat chance," I said, taking a look around.

A few couples and one family sat scattered around the bar. I wondered what kinds of stories they'd be telling their friends tomorrow after Carlos and his merry band of pirates showed up.

Jack brought our drinks and asked if we'd like anything to eat.

"Not yet," I replied. "But we're meeting some friends, and we'll be staying awhile."

Mark sipped his beer and made a throat clearing sound.

I turned my big blue eyes on Jack. Time to let him know that a famous singing pirate was about to take over his establishment for the evening.

"Do you ever have live music here?" I began.

Jack nodded. "Yep. Folks show up with guitars all the time. During the surf season I usually hire duos on Fridays and Saturdays."

I smiled. "So you wouldn't mind if we had a little jam session here?"

"You play?" he asked.

I nodded. "I do, and so does my friend who's on his way."

"Always love a good jam session," he said with a smile. "Might even buy you a drink if you're good. Little entertainment will be just the thing tonight. You guys play anything I would've heard?"

Mark chuckled in his beer. I gave him an elbow to the gut.

"Uh, sure, I don't think you'll be disappointed," I replied.

"I'll go grab your guitar," Mark offered and headed back to the car.

"So where you folks from?" Jack asked as I waited for Mark to return.

"I'm from Annapolis, Maryland. Mark's from Atlanta. How about you?" I asked politely.

Jack deftly poured drinks and opened beers while carrying on a conversation with me. "Me and my wife, Missy, are from Pennsylvania. Harrisburg area. Just got sick of the weather. Sold out when the market was high and bought this place. We live right back there," he said pointing to a rustic house in the trees. "Been here six years."