Getaway Girlz (9 page)

Pierre walked over to Lucy and pointed to the empty swing next to her. “Is this swing spoken for?”

“Swing away,” she said.

Jon ordered the six of them a round of margaritas and Lucy announced to the bartender, and everyone within earshot, that it was Vivian’s birthday. She got congratulations and “happy birthdays” from the crowd. The bartender leaned across the bar and whispered in her ear, “I have something special planned for you later.”

Rock and roll
, Vivian thought.

Jon sat down next to Vivian.

“So what do you think of the Peacock-ola?” he asked.

“Pretty cool,” Vivian said and took a well-timed sip of her margarita as she swung forward. “The swings are a fun touch.”

“Yeah, but they can be dicey if you sit here too long and take a few too many shots,” he said.

“Oh, do you know this from experience?”

“Well, not my own, but I did see someone take a swinging spill about three nights ago. The benefit of having the alcohol, though, is you won’t feel it ’til morning!”

“I hear ya!”

The bartender set down six shots of tequila, Tiempo Loco he said, and handed Vivian the limes.

“I didn’t order these.” Vivian said.

“Oh, I did it on the sly,” Jon said. “You’ve gotta do a birthday shot. It’s a law in Mexico.”

“Oh really…” Vivian said reluctantly. She liked tequila in drinks but not necessarily by itself with salt and lime.

“Well, if you don’t want the whole thing, just pass it over to me. I’m not afraid of your germs,” he replied with a smile. He picked up his shot glass and held it out for a toast.

He stood up and said loudly, “To the beautiful birthday girl, Vivian, on her 30th birthday-ola. May this next year bring you trust, lust and an opportunity for me to get a better view of your bust.”

That got a big laugh from everyone, who all had a hard time shooting their shot. Jon couldn’t even take his because he was too busy saying, “I’m just kidding, I’m just kidding. There were only so many things that rhymed with trust.”

Still grinning at Vivian, he licked the salt, shot the tequila and sucked on the lime. Vivian took a deep breath, decided to go for it, and sucked it down. She didn’t want to look like a wuss. She crinkled her nose afterward and felt the burn of the tequila go down her throat.

Lucy twisted around in her swing. “What brings y’all to Playa?” she asked Pierre.

“Jon needed a holiday. A month or so in Mexico fit the bill,” Pierre said.

“I wish Americans would adopt the same vacation policy,” Vivian butted in, wanting them to know she was listening. She had just realized Lucy was not wearing her wedding ring.

Lucy ignored Vivian. “A month? I’m jealous! My clients are so high maintenance, a delay in their upholstery order is considered an emergency of epic proportions.”

Lucy was an interior designer in Denver and worked with extremely wealthy (a.k.a. spoiled), clients. She got paid well to deal with them, though, and she enjoyed her work. Lucy had an amazing eye for detail and a fantastic sense of style, and Vivian thought one day she would be featured on some home designing magazine or show.

“You Americans work too much,” Pierre said. “You’ve got to take a break here and there.”

“Speaking of breaks, I need a restroom,” Kate said. “Be back in a few.” She slid gracefully off her swing and disappeared around the corner.

Pierre continued, looking at Lucy. “You’ve got to learn to relax more. Maybe you’d like a nice massage?” He rubbed his hands together, like he was warming ’em up and ready to provide her a great service.

Vivian popped up off her swing. “Lucy’s got a cush job. She’s not stressed. If anyone deserves a massage it’s me.”

Lucy looked perturbed. Vivian could tell because a little wrinkle appeared between her eyes.

Pierre turned his swing towards Vivian. “Really, Viv? Are you stressed out?”

“Heck, yeah! Didn’t Jon tell you I’m getting a divorce?”

Vivian felt a hand wrap around her waist.

“No, I did not tell him. It didn’t seem important-ola,” Jon said, looking down at her sincerely.

Suddenly a woman rushed up to Jon and cut the two of them off.

“Dominik! You’re alive!”

“I’VE BEEN so upset thinking you were dead!” The lady said to Jon. “Where’s Celeste and the baby? Are they here with you?” Her lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears.

Jon turned toward her. “Of course I’m alive, and my name is Jon, not Dominik.”

Pierre groaned. “Thousands of miles from Canada and we run into a fan. Never fails.”

Vivian, Lucy, Wendy and Pierre watched as Jon politely led the strange lady a few feet away. She had a small waist and a “Baby Got Back” booty. Her olive skin complimented her long, straight and shiny black hair. At first glance Vivian thought she was wearing green contacts. It was hard to tell for sure through the torrent of tears.

“What’s your name?” Jon asked.

She stammered, “St St Stella. The explosion looked so horrible, how did you survive? I, I, I thought you were killed, but you don’t look like you were hurt. I’ve been praying you would live.” She grasped him in a tight hug.

Jon tried to pry her loose. “The explosion didn’t happen in real-life. It was part of the script on the soap-opera.”

Lucy gave Pierre a bewildered look. He looked at Vivian.

“I think we forgot to tell Lucy he’s an actor.”

Pierre explained. “Jon was a popular Canadian soap opera and his character was just killed off. Celeste was his TV wife, and they had just had a baby. In fact,” Pierre changed his voice to sound like a TV announcer, “they narrowly escaped the clutches of death.”

Lucy, Wendy and Vivian laughed.

Vivian asked Pierre, “Does this happen often, fans coming up like this?”

“No, thank goodness. This one seems to be quite the nut-job. Clearly this lady doesn’t know fact from fiction.”

Vivian couldn’t help but notice that Nutty’s short-cropped shirt and low-cut shorts revealed a big, black spider tattoo on the small of her back.
Interesting choice
.

Jon walked back over and gave Pierre a look. “I’m so sorry, Vivian, but we’re going to have to go. This one is just a bit much for me.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Vivian said, trying to sound upbeat, but she was disappointed.

Lucy put her arm around Vivian’s shoulder. “No worries, we’ll give her a birthday to remember.”

Wendy seconded that.

“Maybe we’ll see y’all tomorrow,” Lucy said, flipping her hair flirtatiously. “We won’t be around until later, but let’s try to get together.”

Pierre smiled.

“Yes, tomorrow,” Jon said hesitantly and glanced sideways at the crazy woman who was only a few feet away.

Jon smiled at Vivian and slid 1300 pesos across the bar to the bartender. “No change, but please get these ladies another drink.” He kissed Vivian softly on the cheek, letting his lips linger. “Happy birthday, Vivian,” he whispered into her ear.

He and Pierre then walked off toward the beach. He turned once more and waved. “
Adiós-ola
!”

The three girls waved and watched as Jon and Pierre went off in the direction of the hotel.

Vivian saw Jon glance at a short guy and give him a nod.
Must have been the guy Lucy and Wendy were talking about earlier.

***

Kate was washing her hands in the restroom when a lady came in in meltdown mode.

“Oh my gosh, are you all right?” Kate asked the woman. “Let me get you some tissue.” She went into one of the stalls, got some toilet paper and handed it to the lady. “Are you okay?” Kate asked again. She looked at the woman whose mascara was smudged beyond repair. Her long, black hair stuck to her face compliments of the tears.

The lady blew her nose, then finally responded. “I can’t believe it. I just saw a friend of mine,” she paused and bursts into tears again.

“Well, that seems like a good thing,” Kate said, wondering what the problem was.

“Yeah, but this person is supposed to be dead,” she wailed.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Kate said.

“He faked his death.” The lady wiped her smudged mascara onto the toilet paper.

“Oh my gosh,” Kate said, shocked. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he felt overwhelmed because of the baby?”

“He has a baby?” Kate asked. “You’ve got to tell someone.”

“And a wife,” the woman said with a scowl. “And here he is hanging all over that floozy.”

“What a jerk! You’ve got to get a hold of his wife. And maybe even the police. I think what he’s doing is illegal.”

The lady immediately clammed up. “Not sure I can tell her.”

“Why not?” Kate asked. “She needs to know her husband isn’t dead and that he’s hangin’ all over floozies in Mexico!”

The woman pulled herself together and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I just may have to do that,” she said and swiped under her eye one last time with the toilet paper. She threw the tissue in the trash and started out the door, then turned to Kate once more. “If I see him with that hussy again, I’m…I’m…I’m just gonna lose it!” She turned and stormed out.

“Well, good luck,” Kate called after her.

Kate looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She fixed a few stray strands of hair, then returned to the girls who informed her that Jon had been accosted by a crazy fan and had to leave.

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yes, but he gave Vivian a nice, long peck on the cheek before he left,” Wendy teased. “And got us another round.”

That was deserving of a cheers so they clinked glasses together.

Kate decided a peck on the cheek would not suffice for Vivian’s birthday. She conspired with Wendy and they decided what she needed was a full-on birthday smooch from the hottest guy in the bar. “To cheer her up since Jon left,” was their excuse.

They set off through the bar. Behind door number one they found a group of college guys who obviously had been there awhile. Though cute, they were too young and too drunk and were immediately ruled out.

Door number two opened to a lone guy who sat at a corner table and didn’t look like he was there to have a good time. He had a ponytail, dark clothes and a scar on the left side of his face. He had a definite creep factor. Slam that door quick!

Door number three revealed two hippies. They’d seen too much sun, too much weed and probably too many loose women. Slam that door too.

Door number four was a big relief. A nice-looking, clean-cut guy with great teeth and a dark tan. Definitely an eight on the pale scale. His name was Pasqual and he was visiting from Sweden. He was their winner.

Wendy and Kate were proud of their find and introduced the birthday girl. By way of his introduction, Pasqual swooped Vivian off her swing, into his arms, and within milliseconds his lips were pressed to hers.

He is hot hot hot
, Vivian thought as she kissed him back.
He’s one of Sweden’s finest
. Granted, she had never been to Sweden, but she thought he represented the country well. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe him. A few more kisses like this, and she would have herself a happy, happy birthday.

After what felt like an eternity (a freakin’ fantastic eternity), Pasqual looked over at Wendy and Kate. “Was that what you had in mind?”

Before they could respond, Lucy, who must have been in shock from witnessing the dynamic display, fell out of her swing, taking her margarita with her, and hit the floor. Her swing popped back and smacked her in the head.

Vivian, still dizzy, had started to breathe again when she realized Pasqual had already put her back into her swing and helped Lucy up. Wendy and Kate pointed and laughed, unable to assist. Vivian grabbed the camera and snapped a quick picture. The caption would read “Don’t Drink and Swing.”

Just as they got re-situated and put Pasqual on a swing in the middle of them, the bartender sauntered up and offered Vivian his hand. She didn’t know where she was going but grabbed it anyway and found herself pulled up onto the bar. She worried a little about flashing the patrons since her sundress was pretty short.

What the heck
, she decided.
I’ll never see these people again
.

The bartender joined her on the bar and handed her a flaming drink layered in the colors of the Mexican flag. The music stopped and he began to sing. Sounded like a version of “La Cucaracha,” but she couldn’t interpret and Wendy was too busy laughing to help her out.

Vivian just stood there and danced a little while he sang. Mostly she couldn’t help but wonder if she had done a good job shaving the back of her knees since they were at eye level and not far from Pasqual. She always missed spots there.

Vivian’s serenade ended and she sipped the Mexican flag shot through a straw, flame and all, while the bartender slammed his tequila. As the crowd cheered, he skillfully jumped down and left her on the bar. Vivian glanced around and wondered how the heck she would get down without anyone getting a peep show. Pasqual graciously offered her his services.

The bar music started back up and the swinging and drinking continued until finally, the girls decided they needed to see more of Playa’s nightlife.

They asked the bartender where to go for dancing. He told them it was disco night at Jungle Fever. They could get their “Jive Talking” on, so they said goodnight to Pasqual, though Vivian did casually mention where they were staying. They slipped off their swings and headed out to shake their groove things.

VIVIAN, LUCY and Wendy filled in Kate about Jon’s encounter with the upset fan on the walk to Jungle Fever.

“She is nuts! I couldn’t believe she honestly thought Jon was his soap opera character,” Vivian finished.

“Yeah, and you should have seen that creepy tattoo and her eyes,” Lucy said. “I think she had on fake contacts, her eyes were unnaturally green.”

Vivian went back to the tattoo. “It wasn’t just any spider, I think it was a black widow.”