by Lisa Freed
Mateo must have grabbed the room key on his way out because he let himself into the room just then. His eyes went first to Lance in a wet, almost transparent towel, then to me doubled over laughing like a loon. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing important,” I gasped, trying to pull myself together.
“Here, catch.” Mateo tossed a brown bag at Lance who caught it and his slipping towel at the same time.
Holding it in front of his privates, Lance opened the bag, glancing inside. “Thanks,” he said.
“Mateo, let’s give Lance some privacy to get dressed.”
We headed out into the hall and I felt as nervous as a teenager with her first crush. This was it, there was so much I wanted to say but everything slowed down and I felt my mind going blank.
“Were you able to book a flight?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
That gave my brain a jumpstart and I started to babble. “Yes, soon, like in a few hours. I need to finish packing, get a taxi, check out….”
“Slow down, I’ll take care of the taxi and keep Lance out of your hair as much as I can.”
“Thank you, and thank you for everything, the beach, the breakfasts, keeping me sane during my time here. I just…” I broke off and raised my arms going to hug him.
He sidestepped me neatly, a sad, half-smile on his face. “It’s better this way.”
My arms fell slowly to my sides. “You’re right,” I said softly thought it hurt. I glanced back at the closed door then over at Mateo. “Don’t worry about Lance, if you could call a taxi though that would be great. Mateo, truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
He nodded, gave a small wave with his hand, then turned and walked down the hall. My eyes followed him until he went around the corner and I lost sight of him.
I blew out my breath in a long, continuous stream, hugging my arms around myself, my eyes closed. Then I opened my eyes and went to open the hotel door and found it locked. Dang!
Fiercely I pounded on the door with both fists, calling out, “Lance! Lance, open the door!”
Thankfully, he heard me and opened the door, even better he was already dressed in the clothes Mateo brought. A light blue polo shirt, khaki shorts and leather sandals, almost identical to the outfit Mateo was wearing today. Not so good was that I spied my toothbrush dripping bluish-white foam in Lance’s hand.
I grabbed it out of his slippery hand, flinging toothpaste yuck on my dress and neck and a bit on Lance’s new shirt. “We broke up and you slept with someone else! How could you even dream this was okay?” I shrieked. I knew my disappointment at parting ways with Mateo was the main part of why I was so furious, but Lance had a role in this and he could take it. My emotions were out of whack and I didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. So, I was going to vent!
“What? As you said, we were broken up.” Lance wiped some toothpaste from the corner of his mouth. “Besides, you and Mr. Latin Lover seemed pretty cozy so I don’t want to hear any nonsense about how dare I move on.”
I snorted, my brief bit of temper already fizzled out. There was no sense in arguing with a drunk guy. Still, I couldn’t resist a parting shot while I tossed my toothbrush into the overflowing trashcan. “Mateo is Greek, not Latin.”
Lance had discovered the toothpaste smear on his shirt and moved into the bathroom to dab at it with water. He called out through the open door. “Latin comes in part from the Greek alphabet.”
Did it? My mouth pursed in puzzlement and I reached for my phone on the bed but then decided not to bother. Besides, what did it matter if Latin came from the Greek alphabet? That still didn’t make Mateo Latin. We needed to get moving. Mateo had probably called for a taxi for us by now and I still had to pack!
I heard the hairdryer start up in the bathroom so concentrated on packing everything in the room first. I was done in less than five minutes and since Lance wasn’t, I went over and pulled the door closed. “I’m changing, don’t come out until I pound on the door,” I called out.
Quickly I stripped and changed into a pair of gray sweats and a lavender t-shirt. I didn’t care if I looked like a bum. I knew this return flight would be much less comfortable than the flight over since I had to deal with Lance. After I slipped my sneakers back on, I banged on the bathroom door and stood outside it.
When Lance exited his shirt was clean and dry and his hair nicely styled back. The white and blond stubble aged him, but he still was a handsome man. “Let me finish packing then we’ll get going. I hope our taxi isn’t downstairs waiting.”
“Do you want me to go stand outside and wait for it?” Lance offered.
I had been about to decline then changed my mind. Why shouldn’t Lance start helping out? “That would be great, thanks.”
I went into the bathroom looking around at what was left. I heard the room door close behind Lance as he left. I really didn’t need any of this stuff, I decided, tossing the empty shampoo bottle and the conditioner into the trashcan. I squirted a bit of toothpaste on my index finger and tried to do a light scrub of my teeth then pitched the tube into the trash as well.
After doublechecking my purse to ensure both Lance’s and my passports were in there, I gave the room a final once-over then hefted my purse and carry-on and pulled my suitcase out of the room.
The elevator was empty, which I took as a great sign that I could at least avoid a last-minute run-in with the serious businessmen and the older ghost. In the lobby, I glanced out the bank of windows lining the room and didn’t see Lance out front. Heading for the door, pulling my suitcase, a cheerful voice stopped me.
“Ms. Ashford, you are seeking your friend?”
I looked over my shoulder to see who was speaking, it was the front desk clerk from when I checked in. No way I could miss him, today he was decked out in a bright orange shirt with huge yellow and green pineapples on it.
I trekked over to the desk where he was working on another crossword puzzle. “Yes, I am,” I answered, wondering how he knew I had a friend here and was searching for him.
“He’s sitting over in the bar area,” he replied pointing a finger behind me.
Whirling around, I saw a door that I hadn’t even taken notice of before. And sure enough, in elegant script on a gold plate, it had a single Greek word which kinda looked like u-tap. Beer on tap, I felt a grin tugging at my lips despite my annoyance at Lance not waiting out front like he said he would.
My smile died when I pushed open the door and found Lance seated on a brown leather stool at the bar with a large glass of deep red wine in front of him. Instead of screaming my head off like I was sorely tempted to do, I walked up to him and poked him hard in the ribs.
His resulting gasp was worth it. He spun around to see who had done it and almost fell off the stool, grabbing at the smooth bar to save himself. In the process, he managed to knock his wine glass over.
The bartender moved over immediately with a black cloth, soaking up the spilled wine and setting the glass upright, all without a raised eyebrow or a word.
“Teresa,” Lance said sheepishly while his darting blue eyes went between me and his now empty glass.
“Stop thinking about it. Why aren’t you outside waiting on the taxi?”
Instead of answering, Lance pointed at the row of windows shrouded with heavy maroon and gold drapes, a small sliver of sunlight peeked in through a narrow opening in one of them. “I figured I could watch for it from in here while having an afternoon pick-me-up.”
“When did you become a full-blown lush, Lance? Gosh! You can’t even keep it together for a few minutes?” I stalked off. Whether he followed me or not, I simply didn’t care anymore.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The front desk clerk looked up from his puzzle, greeting me with a smile. “You found him? How many I help you?”
“I did, thank you. I’m checking out.” I rummaged in my bag and pulled out all three room keys.
His dark eyes left my face, dropping to the k
eys on the desk. I could tell he was dying to ask why I had needed three rooms but somehow, he managed to regain a weaker version of his smile and swept them off the desk. Pulling up my information on his computer, his lips pursed and he made a few funny noises but after a few moments, he pulled up itemized bills for all three rooms. As I was signing them, I noticed a bottle of wine had been billed to my original room just ten minutes ago.
Casting a dark look over my shoulder at the bar’s closed door, I muttered a few things under my breath and signed my name with a flourish.
“Ms. Ashford, were you waiting for a taxi, as well as your friend?”
“Yes,” I said while signing the last statement.
“It’s out front right now, you had best hurry, they don’t tend to linger long.”
Tossing down the pen, I grabbed for my copies of the receipts, spun my suitcase around and took off. “Lance!” I yelled as I dashed past the bar’s door, out of the lobby, and onto the sidewalk.
The driver saw my frantic approach and popped open his trunk. In a moment he was at my side sliding my carry-on from my shoulder and taking the suitcase out of my hand. “Thank you,” I said, my eyes searching the hotel’s doorway for signs of Lance.
Getting into the car, I belatedly realized I had no more Euros on me. “Excuse me?” I asked the driver as he climbed into his seat. “Can we stop at an ATM on the way?”
The driver turned, giving me a wide smile and a thumbs up. I took that to mean he understood but his English wasn’t that good. Or he simply didn’t like talking with his fares. Some silence worked just fine for me.
I settled back against the seat and went through my purse in search of my wallet to have my bank card ready when we stopped. I noticed I had Lance’s wallet and passport in there. Opening up his passport I saw a younger Lance staring back at me, a cocky smile firmly in place.
My finger traced over his face. Only a few weeks ago I had believed myself to be in love with him. Or on the fast track to falling in love.
“Driver, please wait, another person is coming,” I pleaded, before getting out of the car, hoping he would still be there when I returned. If not there went my luggage and clothes.
To my surprise, the front desk clerk exited the hotel at that moment with Lance. The clerk grinned, shaking his head, and motioning to the taxi. He marched Lance over, opened the door for him, and slammed it loudly after Lance was safely inside. To me, he raised his eyebrows, his arms loose and easy at his sides, as he leaned closer and whispered, “Oh, no, you’re not sticking us with him.”
Sagging against the car, I laughed. “Thank you so very much…I’m sorry, this whole time I’ve never gotten your name.”
He stuck out his hand, saying, “Alexi. Best of luck, Ms. Ashford.”
I put mine out and felt his cool one slide over it and give it a single, purposeful pump before releasing it. “Thank you, again, Alexi.”
Without another word, Alexi turned away and went back into the hotel, the back of his wild pineapple shirt flapping slightly.
Pulling away from the car’s door, I walked around the back of the vehicle to the other passenger door and got in. Lance’s potent wine smell smacked sourly into my nose. When we got to the airport, I would have to buy some wet wipes and send him into the nearest restroom to clean up. Then pray that he sobered up enough to get on the plane and not make a nuisance of himself and get us both in trouble.
The cab driver was looking at us both, so I smiled and said, “We’re all set, ATM then airport, please.”
He tossed me another thumbs up and off we went.
Lance remained silent, staring out the window with his hands placed on his knees. He didn’t say a word when the taxi stopped and I went out to get money to pay the fare, nor did he comment when we arrived in at the airport. The jerk also didn’t offer to help carry any of my luggage. He waited on the sidewalk while the driver unloaded my things and I paid him.
My temper went to full meltdown mode, flipped over, and began to slow boil again. Why hadn’t I gotten separate seats on the plane, I questioned myself. Perhaps there was still time. Or better yet I should have left him here altogether, why was I so dang nice? In a huff, I whacked my carry-on into his chest. “Here, make yourself useful and carry this for me,” I ordered.
Either he felt a tiny bit remorseful for his actions, he was so drunk he was numb, or I don’t know, but Lance followed my directions and we made it through customs and into the waiting area with no problems. He even cleaned up some in the bathroom and no longer smelled like a distillery.
We sat in silence while awaiting the call to board. He napped, I played on my phone and wished I had a book. I could read on my phone so finally decided to go for that, but oh how I longed for the comforting feel of a paperback in my hands. When I got home my first act would be to find my babies and give them hugs. Then I was jumping into a nice hot bath with a book and not getting out for an hour or until my skin was so pruney I looked like a raisin.
“What are you smiling about?” Lance asked, one eye cracked open a tad and looking at me.
“Thinking about the joys of heading home,” I replied turning my head to look at him. He was half slumped in the seat, his arms resting over his chest and legs spread far apart, his knee nudging my right leg.
Anyone looking at us no doubt thought we were a couple and feeling the warmth of Lance’s knee against me, I was reminded yet again how close I came to falling for him. When I hadn’t seen him, I had been fine, other than the nagging sense of dread that he was in trouble. Now he was safe, soon to be back home, and I wouldn’t be seeing him again. Well, except for the occasional sighting at the clubhouse pool or restaurant. Hopefully, all those lingering feelings I had for him would eventually disappear.
Our flight was called for boarding and without being asked Lance grabbed my carry-on and ushered me ahead of him in line. As we entered the plane and walked back to our seats, I thought I caught a glimpse of Jim, the gabby guy from my flight over, but when I craned my neck for a better look he had disappeared.
Lance stowed my carry-on and plopped down into the aisle seat after I claimed the window one for myself. He buckled up and went back to sleep. If I was lucky, he would sleep the entire plane ride.
The takeoff was smooth and as we zoomed through the air, I couldn’t help but think back to my crazy thoughts of dating Mateo and flying back and forth every few weeks. No way could I do it. And obviously, he knew better too. As painful as it was parting with him, we had been nothing more than friends joined by a common bond of being different than those around us. The wall I had maintained in my head still stood tall and strong, it took little to keep it up so I decided I would leave it. Looking at the various people in the rows ahead of me it floored me that any of them could have psychic abilities that I was unaware of.
A slight smile pulled at my mouth as I stepped over Lance’s sprawled out legs to get to the aisle and use the bathroom, nobody else would be aware of my abilities either.
Walking toward the bathrooms in the back, I tried to see if I could locate the man that looked like Jim again. I would dearly love to find out how his big, fat, Greek booty-call went and what all happened with security. As I passed a row of three, I saw a mother, probably about my age, holding her sleeping infant snuggled to her chest, with a young boy, her son, in the window seat. That’s sweet, I think before my eyes move on to the aisle seat of that row and there sat a handsome man with piercing silver-gray eyes that had an unworldly glow even in the dim lighting of the plane.
Death.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My eyes widened and I felt myself go numb, yet I pushed on toward the bathrooms, making my frozen feet move in a stumbling gait. At last, I was there and thankfully, one was unoccupied. I locked myself in and only then breathed again.
I’d had a few passing encounters with Death recently and I always stayed out of his way. But that young mother! And her two children. No! No! No!
My ears picked up the so
unds of heavy breathing and I realized it was coming from me, I was panicking. The bathroom was tight, no room to pace so I settled for pounding a fist against my thigh. Normally, I did my thing and Death did his. I’d freely admit he scared me. On the outside, he was handsome, not the image of the grim reaper you saw on comics or TV. Nope, no black robe or scythe, no boney skeleton hiding within the robes. He was a fit middle-aged man with dark black hair with some silver at the temples and glittering silver-gray orbs that could see into your soul. If anything, he looked like one of those dashing men on the soap operas Aunt Prudy was so fond of watching.
He’d never harmed me or even acted like my awareness of him annoyed him. A big plus. We’d even been on nodding terms, as in Hello, yes, I see you, and go do your thing while I go do mine.
Yup, why rock the boat.
Sitting down to pee nothing happened, my body was too tense to let nature take its course.
Or it was my dang conscience. I saw that mom and her babies again. I might get blasted or who knew what, but I had to try to stop Death.
Scared shitless at that, my mind was made up and my bladder released.
Washing my hands, I heard someone outside the door, waiting. I flapped my hands to get rid of the excess water clinging to them then wiped them on my pants. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, I pasted a slight smile on my face for whoever was waiting.
Death.
My hand, still on the door, trembled I felt it and the vibrations go up my body until I was shivering all over.
“Teresa,” he said, his face handsome and serious. His voice was calm and polite, one stranger speaking to the other. “You cannot stop or change things that are meant to happen. It’s not your place in the universe.”
My mouth opened to argue with him. Yes, my knees were shaking, and I felt sick to my stomach but I had to do something. I simply couldn’t stand here and not.
Then Death smiled, a gentle curving up of firm lips. “Besides, that was the only available seat on the plane.” His eyelid closed down over one glittering eye in a fast wink.
