What's Done in Darkness (18 page)

Katrina was angry, but she reached into her purse and opened her wallet. She passed Christian a hundred-dollar bill. “There,” she said tersely. “That's all I have.”

I knew what was coming before the officer looked my way. I already had my purse on my lap. And when his eyes met mine, I withdrew my wallet and opened it. “I have…” I quickly tallied the cash in my wallet. “I have one hundred and thirty dollars,” I said. I pulled out the bills and passed them forward.

Christian took the money from me and passed everything to the officer. Then he asked, “Is this okay? Will it be enough for the fine?”

The officer folded the money into his palm. “Thank you, señor.” He pasted a smile on his face as he passed Christian his license. “Enjoy your vacation in Mexico.”

Then he wandered off, heading back toward the cruiser.

“Prick!” Katrina yelled.

“Shhh!” Christian put a hand over her mouth to quiet her. “The last thing we need is for him to hear you carrying on.” He quickly rolled up the window. “You think he won't come up with a reason to arrest you?”

Katrina's nostrils flared as she looked in the direction of the police car. “You're right,” she said after a moment. “But that was bullshit.”

“I agree,” Christian said, “but there's nothing we could do.” He faced me. “I'll give you the money back. I'm sure there's an ATM at the hotel.”

“We should complain to someone,” Katrina went on.

“Complain to whom?” Christian challenged. “If a cop can bloody well shake down tourists for cash on the side of the road, you think you can trust any of them?”

I didn't bother to say that I had been against renting a car, because it would have been rubbing salt in a wound. Had this been what my anxiety had been about before we'd left Key West? Some sort of premonition that we'd have a run-in with the law down here?

I didn't know, but I was glad that the situation hadn't been worse. “Nothing we can do about it now,” I said. “Let's just head to the hotel.”

Christian started the car. “From now on, I'll know to slow down, and everything should be fine.” He was looking at Katrina, who was still sulking. “The money's not an issue, love. Let's not let this ruin our vacation.”

A long beat passed; then Katrina leaned across the seat and gave Christian a kiss on the cheek. “You're right. What's done is done. Let's get to the resort. Because I need a margarita. Like immediately.”

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Once we arrived at Serenity, our resort in Cancun, I began to feel a lot better. It was hard to feel anxious when you looked out at turquoise blue water as far as the eye could see and the stretch of pristine white sand. The place was stunning—and, as the name suggested, serene.

The run-in with the cop was all but forgotten as we stepped into the swanky lobby of the hotel. The floors were a polished white marble, and four decorative columns surrounded stylish sofas. Salsa music played over the speaker system.

“This place is spectacular,” I said.

Katrina squealed, “It's fabulous! Can you believe we got it for a steal?”

“Ah, there's an ATM,” Christian said. “Hold on, love.”

I watched Christian head off to the far right, then noticed a group of women entering the lobby from the elevator area. They were wearing bikinis and sarongs and headed to the opposite side of the lobby, which was open to the outside. Sheer curtains billowed in the breeze. Beyond that, I could see a seating area and a tiki hut. And I could hear happy laughter.

It wasn't just finally being at the hotel that had me feeling better. I was also feeling optimistic about Katrina and Christian. The conflict with the cop could have been a stressor to send them into a war zone, but they'd weathered the storm and looked like a happy, amorous couple.

To look at them now, as we followed the bellman through the impressive lobby, no one would ever know that they had a sometimes volatile relationship.

It turned out that our rooms were side-by-side. The travel agent had arranged it. I didn't mind. But I did hope that the walls were thicker here than back at the shop in Key West.

“Which suitcases go in which room?” the bellman asked.

“We'll take care of it,” Christian told him. Then Christian began to help the bellman take the suitcases off of the trolley and place them outside of our doors.

The task complete, Christian reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet. He passed the bellman a twenty. I knew it was the smallest bill Christian had, but still, that was a significant tip.

“There you go, mate.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“De nada,” Christian told him. Then Christian turned to me and passed me seven bills. “And here's your money.”

“I'll give you back your ten when I can get some change.”

“Don't worry about it,” Christian said.

Katrina opened their hotel room door. But before she could step inside, Christian scooped her into his arms. She gasped, then let out a playful giggle.

“Oh no, you don't,” Christian said. “I've got to carry you across the threshold.”

When I saw Katrina kiss his lips, I took that as my cue to open my door and check out my own room. It was beautifully decorated, with bright colors that spoke of the tropics. But the king-sized bed was a glaring reminder that I was here alone.

No,
I told myself.
Not alone. You're here with friends.
And maybe I would even end up meeting and hooking up with someone. Why not? I was officially single now. Ready to mingle and move on.

I went back into the hallway to get my suitcase and carry-on bag and saw Katrina and Christian there, too, also getting their remaining luggage.

“Isn't this place beautiful?” Katrina asked me as Christian took the two big suitcases and disappeared into their room.

“Gorgeous,” I agreed. “I'm going to head down to the beach. Get a drink and lounge around.”

Katrina looked over her shoulder into the room, exchanging a playful look with Christian. “We'll join you later.”

“Sure,” I said. But I wasn't counting on that. I could see in their eyes that the first order of business was to do some serious screwing before setting foot on the beach. Which was fine with me. I wanted the alone time. “I'll be downstairs whenever you want to find me.”

I changed into my bathing suit, secured a red wrap around my waist, plopped the large straw hat I'd bought for this trip on my head, then slipped on my sunglasses. I put a towel and a novel in a beach bag and went downstairs.

As I walked along the pool's patio that led to the stretch of white, sandy beach, I saw eyes flitting toward me. Men were checking me out, which did help my bruised ego. But I kept my gaze straight. Yes, I was open to the idea of meeting someone, but I wasn't ready for that quite yet. I wanted a drink to loosen up and some quiet time to enjoy my stunning surroundings.

The pool area was packed, more than I'd expected at this time of year. There were lots of other college kids, also something I didn't expect. But with school having just finished, I guessed that they were here celebrating. Perhaps celebrating graduation or just enjoying a well-earned break after months of studying.

Ten minutes later, I had a piña colada in hand and a spot at the far end of the beach, away from the crowds, where I had been able to find an available lounge chair. It didn't bother me being so far away from everyone else. In fact, it was exactly what I wanted. It was quieter here.

I sat down and took in the view, determined to enjoy the peace and tranquility. I sipped my drink, then looked down the beach. And as I saw two people walking in the distance, I felt a jolt.

My eyes narrowed. Was that …
Brian
?

I pushed up my sunglasses and craned my neck to get the best view I could of the two men. Was the one on the right actually Brian?

Suddenly the men stopped. Then they turned and started off in the opposite direction. And as I watched them walk away, I noticed that my pulse was racing.

Certainly that
couldn't
be Brian.

No, that didn't make sense. We had talked about him coming here. Surely if he had come to Cancun, he would have told me. And we'd be hooking up right now.

But that body … This man bore a striking resemblance to the one I'd met in Key West.

Would he have actually come to Mexico and not told me?

As I watched the men become smaller and smaller in the distance, the answer was obvious. He wouldn't.

And yet my pulse was racing, my senses telling me that it was him.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Are you sure you want me to come along?” I asked.

Hours later, I was back upstairs in the hotel. Katrina and Christian hadn't connected with me downstairs, so I'd knocked on their door to check on them. I half-expected no one to answer, but it took about four seconds for the door to swing open. Katrina, fully dressed, had greeted me with a smile.

Now I was sitting on a chair in their room and Katrina had just extended an invitation for me to go to a bar with her and Christian.

“Of course,” Katrina responded.

“We don't want to leave you here all on your lonesome,” Christian added.

“I get that.… But if you're more in a mood to be a couple than to have a third wheel tag along…” It was already weird enough that I was here with them in Mexico. Not that I wasn't enjoying the change of scenery and pace. Key West was beautiful, no doubt about it. But here I was definitely on vacation.

“Nonsense!” Katrina beamed. “We would love to have you come along.”

I couldn't help thinking that the Mexico sunshine had certainly done a lot to improve her mood. Both she and Christian were still happy. No sign of any cracks in their relationship to be seen.

“All right,” I agreed. “If you insist.”

We had dinner at the hotel first. Since we had the all-inclusive package, there was no point in paying for dinner anywhere else. We sat outside, where the ocean breeze was lovely. The entire ambience was beautiful, but with me sitting across the table from Katrina and Christian I still felt like an intruder on their romantic time.

After dinner, we all got ready for a night on the town. I put on a white halter and a denim skirt, an outfit that highlighted my hourglass figure. I was fussing with my hair, making sure it was perfect, when there was a knock on my door.

I exited the bathroom and pulled open the hotel door. Katrina grinned at me. She was wearing a red tube dress that looked as though it had been painted on. Perhaps to make the dress appear a bit more modest, she wore a short denim jacket as well. My eyes ventured to her feet. The red strappy pumps had to be at least four inches high.

Then I looked at my own feet. I was wearing flat sandals, with a bit of bling on the straps. “Do you think I'm underdressed?”

“You look great!”

“But look at you.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “You look hot.”

“Love the shoes,” I told her. “But I couldn't walk in those all night.” I'd gone out in heels on numerous occasions and regretted it. Ultimately, I'd decided that I preferred comfort as opposed to feet that hurt for days.

“I'm from Atlanta. I'm used to it.”

“I'd want to take those off after an hour.”

Katrina shook her head. “That's a no-no. My mama always said that a lady never takes her shoes off. Make sure you can wear them out, because it's not classy to take them off on a dance floor.”

I shrugged. “I didn't realize there was shoe etiquette.”

Christian appeared. “You ladies ready?”

I nodded.

“And to put everyone's mind at ease, we'll be taking a taxi,” he announced. “I plan on drinking.”

It was a catch-22. On one hand, taking a taxi was preferable. Not that I expected we'd have another run-in with the cops so soon, but taking a taxi would eliminate the possibility altogether. On the other hand, if Christian was drinking, he could be unpredictable.

We headed downstairs, where we caught a cab. At dinner, the waitress had suggested a local bar called Tequila Grill, saying that it had a more authentic Mexican flavor than the other establishments on the strip. It was a hip place that played a variety of music, so she thought we would enjoy it.

Authentic Mexican was what we wanted. That's why we'd come to Mexico, instead of hanging out in Key West.

“Tequila Grill,” Christian told the taxi driver.

I was in the front with the driver, while Katrina and Christian were in the back. A couple of times, I peered over my shoulder at them and saw them sharing a kiss.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for us to arrive at Tequila Grill. I swear, if the drive had been any longer Katrina and Christian could have ended up naked in the back. I understood that they were into each other, but how could they not rein in their affection even in public?

Christian passed the driver some money. “Thank you, mate.”

I exited the car first, my eyes taking in the exterior of the establishment. The nondescript large building was made interesting only by its sign. TEQUILA GRILL was lit up in yellow lights, with a bottle of tequila at the end of the words, also lit up, but in red.

No one checked our IDs as we entered. Stepping inside, I smiled as I glanced around. I liked the place. The decor was still touristy to me—palm trees inside the bar, strings of lights hanging from beams on the ceiling—but it was more rustic than polished, and I liked the decided Mexican flavor.

From the looks of it, the crowd here was a mix of tourists and locals. A group of Mexican men stood together in one corner and checked us out as we walked in. On the far side, I saw men in T-shirts, khaki shorts, and flip-flops—and knew they were American. College kids, I surmised.

“What are you having?” Christian asked me. “I'm buying.”