Sweetheart Deal (7 page)

eight

So the local police
had determined that Alejandro had died via accidental drowning, and Philip's assorted law enforcement pals all seemed to concur:

I'm glad I'm on vacation because I hate dealing with drownings—those telltale glistening eyes always creep me out.

It's the wrinkled skin that gets me.

Lucky he wasn't there longer than an hour or so. Have you seen how the skin on the hands and feet start to come loose like gloves and socks?

While I wasn't exactly relaxed about the whole thing, I felt somewhat relieved when Geo handed out a new call sheet.

“We were up all night strategizing and revising the schedule in light of everything that's happened.”

“No swimming?” Trent asked.

“That wouldn't be in the best of taste, seeing as they're holding a poolside wake today,” Eloise said with sniff. “Now would it?”

Frank looked out the
floor-to
-ceiling windows and up at the gathering clouds. “Lighting's not great, anyway.”

I forced myself not to react to Frank's insensitive comment as I read through the call sheet. Not only had the timeshare signing and the swim shoot been canceled, but the revamped plan had us venturing off the hotel property entirely and heading into the nearby resort town for a newly created segment called “Bargaining,
South-of
-
the-Border
Style.”

“This makes sense,” I said, nodding as I read.

Geo smiled sympathetically in Enrique's direction. “And it makes sense for all of us to get off the property to give the hotel staff some time to mourn without all the extra commotion.”

The shopping excursion, as it turned out, was for not just our family and the crew, but for all the wedding guests. We would pile into buses for an afternoon in town, followed by happy hour at a local cantina.

Before we left, however, tradition (and the call sheet) called for the
time-honored
tradition of showering the new couple with prosperity, fertility, and good fortune by dousing them in birdseed
21
before they left for a water's edge bridal suite at Casa Armonia, the Hacienda de la Fortuna's sister resort ten miles down the coast.

The production assistants corralled everyone and had them stand together under the front portico of the hotel just in time for the getaway
car, a white limo, to pull up.

Geo directed me to the limo door to deliver an impromptu tip about asking for complimentary car service when booking a bridal suite not only in Mexico, but anywhere in the world.

Anastasia and Philip appeared in the doorway just as I finished.

The crowd, eager to give the bride and groom a proper
on-camera
send-off
, did a great job of providing the local birds with plenty to snack on for the next day or two.

As Philip paused for man hugs with his groomsmen, Anastasia's sisters encircled her like schoolgirls for a group
good-bye
.

Just before they slipped into the limo together, Anastasia gave me a big hug.

“Are you doing okay?” she whispered. “I haven't had a single moment to check in with you.”

“I'm fine,” I said, adding a smile in the midst of the
on-camera
pomp and circumstance.

“Really?” she asked. “Because I'm not sure I would be—not given everything you've been through over the past six months.”

While it wasn't like I'd had any time to process how I really felt, something about her earnest expression gave me an extra dash of comfort.

“I can't say it hasn't been upsetting,” I said. “But I don't want to let an unfortunate accident mar what has otherwise been a wonderful celebration.”

“I knew you were going to be a total pro,” she said, her voice cracking as she gave me a hug. “Thank you for being the best matron of honor ever.”

Other than a look I thought I saw pass between Hair, Body, and Face, it felt like one of the most genuine moments I'd experienced since I'd been down in Mexico.

The moment the limo was out of camera range, a sightseeing bus pulled up and we were off on an afternoon getaway of our own.

On the way into town, Felipe, our resident driver, provided color commentary:

This area, known as the Riviera Maya, was an important commercial and religious center for the ancient Mayans from about 1000 to 1550 A.D. Tulum, a Mayan fortress which many of you will get a chance to see over the next few days, was the most important population center from this era, but there were other key towns such as
Xaman-Ha
, now known as Playa del Carmen, where we are headed right now …

Despite the wealth of facts and figures, there was no missing the lack of inflection in Felipe's voice, or the breaks he took, setting down his handheld speaker to blow his nose.

“My apologies,” he said at one point.

“No explanations necessary,” Geo said, patting him on the shoulder from his seat beside me in the front row. “We all understand.”

“I saw Ivan just before we left,” Eloise said from across the aisle where she sat beside Frank. “Did you know they're setting up his body by the pool and taking turns keeping his soul company because he can't be alone until he's buried or something?”

FJ and Trent, seated across from her, rolled their eyes at their sister's sudden
in-the
-know status.

“Interesting,” Trent deadpanned.

“Totally,” FJ added.

Liam, seated behind them, smiled conspiratorially.

“I mean, the whole thing is awful and everything,” I heard one of Anastasia's other sisters whisper. “But if the pools are going to be closed and the staff is falling apart, maybe they should think about switching all of us over to the hotel where Stasia and Philip went.”

“Or give us some sort of credit or something,” another one said. “For our trauma and inconvenience.”

“Seriously,” the third said. “The only thing that hasn't been rescheduled was my timeshare presentation.”

“Charming, aren't they,” Geo whispered almost inaudibly in my ear. “Like Cinderella's wicked stepsisters.”

“Here we are,” Felipe announced. “The shopping, restaurants, and nightlife all center around Fifth Avenue. Meet me back here at eight p.m. In the meantime, I wish you many bargains.”

“Bargaining, known here in Mexico as
el regateo,
has been an essential part of the business and social fabric for centuries,” I stated for the camera, curious locals, and the tourists who'd gathered to watch us outside a colorful knickknack shop. “Knowing when, where, and how to engage in negotiations can be a little tricky, especially for us foreigners, but here are a few dos and don'ts to help you on your way.”

“Great,” Geo said. “Now it's time to have some fun.”

And despite the somber circumstances that had us in town, Geo and the crew managed to pull together a surprisingly lighthearted shoot.

The first camera segment was set up in front of a jewelry vendor where Eloise was already browsing, her face frozen in the snooty scowl she normally reserved for
low-end
shoe stores.

“How much?” she asked in English waving a pair of hoop earrings.

“Twenty American dollars,” the owner finally said, but without making eye contact.

“Ten,” she said.

“Nineteen,” he said.

“For a junky pair of earrings?” she sniffed. “They don't even look like real silver.”

He shrugged. “That's the price.”

“Perfect!” Geo said, stopping the action as soon as the vendor turned away from her. “Now, Maddie, you give some tips and then we'll redo this whole scenario again the right way.”

The merchant, who seemed to be attracted to my stepdaughter's assets, if not her attitude, sidled up beside her while Geo directed me to a spot where I was surrounded by stores and colorful merchandise.

As he was about to cue me to speak, I saw a woman standing in the midst of the crowd and found myself drawn in (much like a bull) by her traditional white top with red embroidery and matching bright red full skirt. Something about the pleading look in her eyes told me she wanted or needed something—likely to sell a few or all of the sombreros she was peddling.

“And action!” Geo said.

I quickly decided I would ask Geo to include her in one of the upcoming shots, smiled in her direction, and began: “In the more traditional parts of Mexico, almost everything is bargained for, but in the modern or tourist areas, the rules become less clear. Permanent storefronts and food sellers traditionally maintain fixed prices, but vendors on foot, in markets or booths, or at tables generally welcome bargaining. Another clue can be the presence or absence of price tags.”

Before I could start on the actual tips themselves, Trent and FJ bounded up as if the cameras weren't there.

Liam watched from outside the shot.

“
Hola
,” FJ said to the owner.

“
Hola
,” he smiled, leaving Eloise's side and appearing on camera once again. “
Cómo estàs
?”

“
Estoy bien, y tú
?” FJ answered in his best high school Spanish.

“Mom would like this,” Trent said, holding up a turquoise bracelet that had, in fact, caught my eye. “Don't you think?”

“I don't think we'll have enough money to buy it,” FJ said with a sigh. “It looks pretty expensive.”

“
Cuánto cuesta, por favor
?” Trent asked.

“
Twenty-five
dollars American,” the vendor said in English.

“I'm afraid that's just too much,” FJ said, also in English.

The vendor smiled, stealing a glance at Eloise's legs. “How much can you spend?”

“Fifteen dollars,” Trent blurted.

“Fifteen dollars?” the vendor said, sounding insulted by the mere mention of such an unthinkable price.

“I know it's worth more than that,” FJ added, brushing a
humidity-curled
lock of hair out of his eyes. “But it's all we have on us.”

The boys looked convincingly disappointed as Trent returned the bracelet to its resting spot amongst a group of similar baubles.

“I can tell you are nice boys,” the vendor said, lifting the bracelet by the clasp. “Fifteen is okay.”

“Really?”

As the vendor nodded, Geo nodded in my direction to finish my spiel.

“You are likely to have the most success and fetch the best possible prices by following a few simple guidelines,” I said, noting that the sombrero lady had, unfortunately, disappeared before I could help contribute to her daily earnings. “First, if you can, make a little small talk in Spanish as a show of respect. Second, keep a positive attitude. Bargaining is a friendly game of skill and wit, and you'll catch more bees and lower prices with honey. And lastly, don't insult the merchandise unless there is truly a flaw for which you are asking a discount. It's okay to say something's too much, but you are better off addressing your lack of willingness to pay the asking price than discrediting the item itself.”

In a manner uncharacteristic of our usual hectic schedule, Geo and the crew took their time setting up interesting and colorful spots for the remainder of our afternoon bargaining shoot. Like somewhat normal tourists, we took our time with
on-camera
bargaining, pointing out pitfalls.

Frank was sent into a hat store with a roll of bills and instructed to say, “I only have two hundred pesos,” but pull a
500-peso
note out of his wallet to highlight a big bargaining faux pas.

The boys did a setup in a shop full of key chains, coffee mugs, blankets, and assorted local merchandise. They asked what they could get for a dollar, and I added a bit of color commentary while they transacted their deals.

“There are no fixed rules about where to start your initial low bid. The trick is to know what you are willing to pay and then try to make that price your
mid-point
between the initial asking price and your first offer.”

Eloise had the best poker face and Frank the worst, so they were sent off together—Eloise to specifically act lukewarm over a leather bag she really wanted, and Frank to gush over a belt and buckle he just had to have for an upcoming
Western-themed
fundraiser we were scheduled to emcee together.

I was enjoying both of their admirable acting jobs. Eloise examined the bag for quality before negotiating the price, and Frank balanced out his natural tendency to be impulsive by warming up the store owner with some friendly chitchat. In fact, I'd relaxed enough to set aside some of the tumult of the past
twenty-four
hours when Hair, Face, and Body chanced into the
T-shirt
shop beside the leather goods store where we were doing our shoot.

“So
two-faced
,” Geo whispered from beside me, glancing over at them. “Or
three-faced
, I guess I should say.”

“How so?”

“For one thing, they act all happy when they're really jealous and pissed.”

“That she got married?”

“That she's a star, you're a star, and they're just extras,” he said. “In their sister's wedding, no less.”

While Frank and I were friendly with the bride and groom, I was well aware that our primary qualification as matron of honor and best man was that their gratis wedding was taking place on our reality show and thus needed to include us in key roles.

“Stasia asked me to be matron of honor, in part, so she wouldn't have to pick one of them over the others and cause a rift.”