by Dawn Tamayo
In the morning Helen showered and dressed quickly. Oliver kissed her on the cheek as she sat at her dresser putting her make up on, and winked at her as he left the bedroom heading downstairs for his usual muesli and orange juice breakfast. She couldn’t believe he was acting like nothing was wrong, as if last night’s conversation had never happened. For a split second Helen closed her eyes and wished it was Romero’s kiss, but even with her eyes closed she knew the difference, she would know Romero’s kiss anywhere – she knew the feel of his skin next to hers, his lips pressing against hers, and the feeling of the butterflies that it sent through her body. No, this wasn’t it.
Helen looked back at herself in the mirror and wondered how she had managed to get herself into such a mess: living with a man she didn’t love and the threat of being kidnaped by who-only-knows if she left? She had woken up no more the wiser as to what she should do, but she decided her only hope would be to go to the police. She knew they wouldn’t be able to do much, but it was a start, and she had to do something because Helen knew she had to leave soon. It had finally dawned on her that it had nothing to do with if she did, or didn’t want to love Oliver. And it didn’t matter any longer how deep her feelings or love for him were before that fateful night. The sheer truth of the matter was she did not love Oliver anymore, and that was not going to change. Helen needed to leave Oliver for good, not just because she knew it wasn’t right to continue living with a man she didn’t love, but because she was in love, totally and utterly, with someone else.
It hadn’t taken long for the realisation to hit her this morning, it had been rather quick. One moment she was getting out of bed feeling the loneliest she could ever remember feeling, and the next moment the hot water from the shower was cascading over her and her heart was screaming out for Romero’s touch. She closed her eyes trying to imagine he was there with her, that at any moment his hand would reach out and touch her in the way she loved to be touched by him, but it didn’t come. When she opened her eyes it was if she had woken up, finally.
Helen knew what she wanted, and she wanted Romero. She suspected she always had, but she had never allowed herself to admit it. From the very first moment she remembered seeing him, when she looked across the little hospital room from her bed, she knew there was something very special about him - something she liked, loved even, about him! It wasn’t just that she was grateful to Romero for rescuing her, or the incredible chemistry they shared. No, it was so more than that! She loved the way he smiled, and how his dark eyes sparkled sending butterflies fluttering through her stomach. She loved the sound of his Spanish voice, deep and thick as he whispered into her ear. She loved Romero, and as much as she tried to tell herself it wasn’t love, she knew now she had been wrong. It was love. Serious, mind blowing, heart stomping love! The only problem was she didn’t know if Romero felt the same way too. But she knew Romero – if there was even the remotest possibility that he wanted to be with her then she would have to go to him as a single woman, it would have to be her decision to leave Oliver. But even then, she wasn’t sure if Romero had forgiven her for walking out after their amazingly passionate afternoon together. She knew she had hurt him - she could see it in his eyes, but she hoped at least that could be a sign that he loved her too? Either way she had to see, and she had to try.
Once again Helen looked at herself in the mirror and this time she smiled at her reflection. The thought of being back in Romero’s arms made her happy, truly happy. She took a deep breath and stood up feeling the happiest she had felt in ages, in fact she was the happiest she had been since returning from Estepona. She hurried herself now, she had to get the day started because she had a lot of things to do.
The sun was high in the sky and hot. Helen was disappointed that her day hadn’t turned out quite how she had planned so far, in fact nothing had gone as she had hoped. The first thing she did after getting into the office was to telephone Romero - she hoped that since he was the one who found her then he would take her kidnapping threat seriously, and besides she was eager to hear his voice again. But after several unsuccessful attempts at calling his mobile and getting his voicemail she tried the station in case he was working a day shift, but the duty sergeant told her he was off on vacation for a while and asked if she wanted to speak to someone else. She didn’t. Next she tried Cathy to see if she knew where Romero was, but she said that neither she nor Juan had seen him for a few days.
Finally after a couple of hours and failing to get hold of Romero, Helen decided to head off to the local police station in Estepona to talk to them about the kidnapping. They needed to know, and even though Oliver was confident his security team could handle anything, she wasn’t happy to leave it at that. Besides, that wouldn’t help her when she was on her own. Helen was hoping that after she left Oliver there would no longer be a kidnapping threat to her, because she wasn’t the fiancée of a multi-millionaire anymore. But that wasn’t a risk she was prepared to take – she suspected they may still view her as a potential target who Oliver could be vulnerable to. She was still at risk even then!
As Helen walked past Oliver’s office she heard him call out to her, he wanted to know where she was going. She paused, she didn’t want to tell him she was off to the police station, he’d only tell her not to go and to let him handle it. “I’m just popping out to get a couple of things.” She lied.
“Where?” Oliver said as he appeared at his doorway with some papers in his hand.
“Puerto Banus.” She said off the top of her head; that would buy her some time, it was a good twenty minute drive to Puerto Banus so he would assume she was shopping there for a while.
“Oh good, I need these papers urgently taken to the Harbour Master’s office there. I was going to get Alonso to take them, but since you’re going there you can you take them for me. They are waiting for them now.” He held out the papers.
Helen looked at the papers and then mentally kicked herself for not saying somewhere else. She took them realising she now had to make a quick drive out to Puerto Banus first because she had no doubt that Oliver would be on the phone checking the papers had been handed in if they were that urgent. That was one thing she did admire about Oliver – it didn’t matter to him that he was the boss of a multi-million euro company, he still checked on everything and everyone himself. He knew everything that went on in his company and took responsibility for it, he didn’t just sit back and watch the money roll in like some of the other business men around there.
“And Helen can you do me a favour while you’re there? Can you pick me up a new shirt – I spilt coffee on this one and I don’t have time to go home before my business meeting tonight?” He looked at her expectantly.
Helen smiled and nodded, ‘Great’ she thought sarcastically and walked off taking the papers with her.
***
Romero was pleased to be out of the stuffy black van with “Seguridad Premier – The Best Solution In Home Security” marked on the side of it. The van had air conditioning, but with three people and sometimes four sitting inside the back for hours on end it could only do so much good, and he had been sitting in there on and off for the last two days. The shiny new black van was his ‘surveillance centre’ for the duration of the operation. It was thought that a van for a security company wouldn’t look out of place being parked near the exclusive area they had under surveillance, and so far they had been right.
He and his new work partner Maria Vasconez had blended in well amongst the tourists in Puerto Banus and were watching the movements of two yachts in particular in the harbour. Romero certainly had worse stake-out jobs than this in the past, and since they expected him to play the loving boyfriend then he was pleased they had at least given him someone as beautiful as Maria for his partner, with her long black wavy hair falling to her petit bodied waist, and jet black eyes to match. Deep down Romero didn’t really care what his pretend-girlfriend looked like, just as long as she was good at her job. His Captain had assured him that
Maria was one ADOCU’s finest - she was an excellent shot and was responsible for single headedly taking down a car of drug dealers all by herself before her back-up had time to arrive. When he first met Maria last week at a villa in a remote location up in the Andalucían hills he had been pleasantly surprised and found her easy to get along with. They spent an evening talking, trying to form a rapport - when people saw them together in the street they had to believe they were lovers on holiday out to have a good time. It wasn’t only the operation which relied on this, but their lives too, because Romero had no doubt just how dangerous and well connected these criminals were.
Romero took a breath of fresh air as he quickly jumped out of the back of the van as it sat hidden up the side street from the marina. Maria was already waiting outside and took his hand just as a loving girlfriend would. She smiled at him and winked playfully as they walked off down the road already in character. As they reached the famous Sinatra’s bar they rounded the corner and walked slowly along the marina front pretending they were deep in conversation, but really Maria was looking past Romero out to the yachts checking to see if there was any sign of the two yachts they were after. Maria carefully looked around for the smaller boat belonging to Omar Moustafa, the suspected Moroccan drug smuggler, and the much larger yacht belonging to Marcus Martinez, the Spanish drug distributor. Their informant had said both men were due into the harbour today and so far all of the informant’s information had been correct. There was no sign of the smaller boat, but Maria squeezed Romero’s hand twice to signal she had seen Marcus Martinez’s large yacht and steered him in the direction towards it.
Maria playfully kissed Romero on the cheek and bounced up alongside the water’s edge posing for him as she blew him kisses whilst Romero took photographs of her with his camera. Passers-by laughed warmly at the two lovers as Maria put on her sweet little girlfriend act whilst Romero called out words of encouragement to her. They looked like the perfect couple in love and on holiday together – no one would ever suspect. Romero clicked away with the camera, moving his focus past Maria and onto the large three decked cream coloured yacht in the background behind her with Marcus Martinez on board - he was a slender dark-haired man, dressed impeccably in his navy blue chinos, white and blue pin striped shirt open at the neck and deck shoes.
Romero was satisfied he had some good photographs, and he now knew for sure that Marcus Martinez was on board the El Paradiso and it was anchored in Puerto Banus’s Marina, just as their informant had said. Romero zoomed his camera lens in to get a better look at the far end of the marina, but still there was no sign of the Moroccan drug smuggler or his boat. It didn’t surprise him that the Moroccan wasn’t there; from experience of his many stake-outs in the past he hadn’t expected to see the Moroccan yet, it was far too exposed for him and Marcus Martinez to be seen together. Marcus Martinez was a very wealthy business man who hid his drug distribution business well behind his respectable businesses, and he moved within the elite Spanish-costa society. But the Moroccan, Omar Moustafa, was nothing like Marcus Martinez, and for them to have been seen together having a cosy business meeting would have raised suspicions. No, if they were smart Omar wouldn’t be meeting with Marcus, not here and certainly not out in the open. But just to be sure Romero eyed up a free table at the restaurant behind him with a perfect line of sight to the El Paradiso. He walked up to Maria who was now pretending to sulk since he was no longer taking photographs of her and took her in his arms. He moved her hair back from her ear and pretended to kiss along her neck but whispered into her ear instead, telling her about their plan to sit at the restaurant and watch the yacht for either as long as it stayed there or until Carlos and Miguel could relieve them later in the day so as not to look too suspicious.
Maria pulled back still in Romero’s arms, giving him her very best pretend kiss full on his mouth. Romero had to hand it to Maria, she was a very good actress. If he didn’t know better he could almost have thought she really did have feelings for him, but he did know better, knowing full well that her husband of five years was waiting for her to finish this job as quickly as she could before going back home to him. He was pleased she was married, it made it easier for him to play the doting boyfriend to the fullest without either of them having to worry that anything he did or said would be misconstrued. He liked Maria, but apart from the fact she was married, he still didn’t have eyes for her.
Romero let Maria go and took her hand, pulling her gently towards the vacant seats at the restaurant before someone else had a chance to take them. They were nearly there when Romero suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. His grip tightened on Maria’s hand as he looked across her shoulder. Maria looked up at Romero’s face - she didn’t understand his strange expression and wondering what he had seen.
Helen had delivered the papers to the Harbour Master’s office and now she was heading off to Oliver’s favourite tailor to pick up a shirt for him. She really could have done without having to run these errands, she just wanted to get to the police station and get this kidnapping business reported. As she walked along the marina front she saw a stunning young woman messing around like she had no cares in the world. Helen slowed for a moment thinking how lovely it would be to feel like that – free, alive, not having a care in the world. She remembered there was a time when she almost felt that way, and then pushed that thought aside, that was then and maybe if she was lucky she would get to feel that way again one day. Helen laughed as the beautiful Spanish woman seemed to catch the attention of the men as they walked by, much to the annoyance of the other women with them. But Helen couldn’t blame the men, the woman exuded confidence and charisma, she was spectacular. Then, just as she was about to look away, Helen watched as the woman’s partner walked up to her and took her in his arms. Helen stopped and time stood still!
Helen couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe! All she could do was stand and watch as the man walked up to the beautiful carefree woman and took her in his arms. She watched as he swept the woman’s black shiny hair aside and kissed her neck, whispering in her ear making her laugh and kiss him back. Helen reached for something, anything to steady herself but there was nothing there. She took deep breaths as she watched Romero finally release the beautiful woman from his arms and take her hand, pulling her towards a restaurant. She hadn’t needed to see his face, she knew the minute she saw the back of his body as he walked up to the beautiful woman that it was him. She would know Romero’s body anywhere! She had watched as he held someone else like he had held her. She had watched as he whispered in another woman’s ear as he had whispered in hers so many times before, and then she had watched as his lips touched another’s! Helen thought she was going to be sick, the bile was rising in her throat and she swallowed hard to keep it down. She wanted to turn away but her body wouldn’t, it refused to move prolonging her torture.
Then for a split second, but for what felt like an eternity, Helen and Romero’s eyes met. For a moment she saw complete surprise flicker across his dark sparkling eyes, then something else, a look she had never seen before and she didn’t think she ever wanted to see again - a mixture of anger and something she didn’t recognise. Helen heard the pretty little Spanish woman ask Romero what was wrong. For a moment Romero’s feet seemed to be suffering the same fate as Helen’s, but then he found them again. To Helen’s painful surprise Romero told his Spanish woman that it was nothing, as he pulled her close into his arms again and pressed her up against his body holding her tightly.
Helen stood no more than ten feet away from Romero and she wondered if he could feel her pain from across the distance between them, because she was sure the concrete beneath her feet must be cracking with the vibrations of her heart breaking into a thousand tiny little pieces right now! Romero had spoken in Spanish, but she had understood enough. “Nunca.” he had said! She had known there was a chance he didn’t love her the way she was in love with him, but she was sure she had meant something to him. Never in her wildest dreams d
id she imagine that he thought of her as ‘nothing’!
Helen couldn’t believe Romero could be so heartless and cruel as to hold another woman like that right in front of her. A passer-by or two walked between them as the promenade became more crowded. She could see Romero still looking at her over the woman’s shoulder, through her long dark shiny hair. Now Helen could read Romero’s look perfectly clearly, it was a look of pleading - pleading for her not to give away their connection, and not to let his new girlfriend know they knew each other and had been intimate. Helen still couldn’t move, she wondered how long he had been with the woman in his arms? Was she a new girlfriend, because if she was then they certainly looked very loved-up! Or had Romero been with her all along and somehow managed to keep her and Helen from finding out about each other? Helen doubted that, she couldn’t remember seeing a photograph of the woman at Romero’s house, but she considered they may have been temporarily separated, on a break, and that would have made her this woman’s temporary replacement! She wondered why Cathy hadn’t said anything about this woman to her, but then again maybe Cathy hadn’t known about her either. Helen’s mind was racing frantically, but one thing she was sure of, was that Romero didn’t want the woman to know about her, or to meet her - he was making that plainly obvious, like he was shielding the woman from Helen’s very existence.
