“I’m properly manscaped. Wanna feel?” He tickles me and my giggle fit starts again.
My laughter has brought tears to my eyes, and I can feel my mascara smearing. Next thing I know, all that creamy colored foundation will dissolve and my spots will come back.
“Now that I have you warmed up.” Johnny takes out his phone, a bright, yellow one with a protruding lens. “No kissing until after the glamour shots.”
He pulls me into an embrace and takes a few selfies with me, then turns the lens on me, snapping away as if he too, were afraid this would be the last time anyone would see me looking like a China doll.
Our photo session’s interrupted by a knock on the door. Sure enough, a man dressed in those monkey suits hotel employees wear delivers all of my day’s shopping. I’m going to be paying for this for a long time: Bottega Veneta Bellagio Italian sling-backs, a psychedelic electric blue paisley tote bag from Etro, party dresses from Bebe, Roberto Cavalli, and casual clothes from Guess and BCBG Max Azria.
I did resist the Clive Christian #1 perfume. How can a bottle of fragrance be that much? Although Johnny didn’t hold back on the Penhaligon’s and Prada colognes. I don’t even want to know what he was doing in the Armani store, except he spent a lot of time taking measurements and looking through swatch books.
Johnny tips the courier a wad of bills and holds out his arm to me. “Now, where were we?”
“Uh, keeping our makeup clean and pristine.”
He grins and licks his lips. “I agree. It’s time to clean the makeup off you. Let’s fill the tub in my room.”
Whoa. Hot and cold tingles scurry up and down my body. Is this fast or what? If I sleep with him, what was the point of paying for my own room?
I hold him at bay with a finger to his chest. “I want to take a few more pictures around the hotel. All that beautiful décor could make great backdrops.”
“Exactly.” He takes my hand and leads me out of my room. “You should see the Louis XIV furnishings in my suite.”
He inserts the keycard and whisks me into his room. It’s definitely upgraded from mine. A large baroque style gilded mirror hangs over the head of the opulently adorned king-size bed. The dresser and tables sport legs with delicately curved feet, and gold-threaded tapestries adorn the lush burgundy colored walls.
“More pictures?” Johnny stretches his arm for another shot of the two of us.
“No, stop. It’s too much. People will think I’m rich.”
“Isn’t that the point?” He snaps a series of shots, then cups my head and bends, his lips approaching mine.
I close my eyes and let him press his mouth to my lips. Click, whirr, his camera phone makes electronic shutter sounds.
How distracting. I close my mouth and lean back. “Can you put that away?”
“Mmm … one more.” Looping one hand around me, he launches a deep, tongue wagging kiss.
I try to keep up, but it’s hard to breathe and my nose is itchy. I hope I don’t sneeze. I can’t hear the electronic shutter. Is he taking a video”
“Enough,” I breathe into his mouth. “I can’t get into this with that camera rolling.”
He puts his phone on the dresser and walks me backward until my legs touch the bed. My heartbeat speeds and fear shoots through me. Should I go for it?
“What do you want?” My voice trembles.
“Whatever you’re willing.” His eyes search mine. “I would never take advantage of you.”
“That’s good to know.” I force a chuckle.
His hand moves up the side of my dress, and he drags me onto the bed so we’re side by side. “Does this feel familiar?”
Uh, what does he mean? That I’m always lying in bed with a guy?
My body tenses. “No, why should it?”
He rubs my shoulder and arm gently and tugs me into an embrace. “You must believe I’d never hurt you or force you to do anything.”
“Well, sure, I believe you.”
Unless you’re a psychopath who’s saying the exact opposite to put your victim at ease.
He tilts my face toward him and kisses me, his lips barely whispering over mine. “I think you’re out of practice.”
“What?”
“Let’s try that again.” Caressing my cheek, he moves in, his tongue wiggling to get between my teeth.
I can wag my tongue as well as he, but it all feels mechanical, nothing like when Carlos sucks me in and I can’t get enough and I want to press myself into him and devour him like he’s mango hot curry embedded in dark, velvety chocolate.
Shit. That’s Carlos. He’s unavailable. What’s wrong with me? I renew my assault on Johnny’s mouth, moving my tongue more diligently to erase Carlos.
It’s no use. I’m all too aware of the slurping sounds Johnny’s making, like someone eating a banana. This isn’t working. I can’t get into it. I draw back from the kiss. “How am I doing?”
“C+. Needs improvement. Here’s a tip. Don’t lap like a dog.”
Part II - Carlos / Chapter 12
Carlos hated it when Choco lied. She definitely wasn’t at the UC San Diego main library studying for her business accounting class. Heck, he and Julia had searched every floor and interviewed every staff member.
No one, but no one had seen Choco. It was stupid of them to believe she was here anyway. After all, her Toyota was still in the garage underneath their apartment complex. But then, she might have a study buddy he didn’t know about.
“What do we do now?” Julia wrung her hands. “She’s not answering any of my texts either.”
It had all started this morning when a middle-aged Asian woman he’d never met before knocked on his door with his mother’s dentures. She’d explained that Choco had a pop quiz she forgot to study for and was going to be holed up in the UC San Diego library all day.
It had sounded suspicious since Choco’s usual habit was to lounge on her couch with a laptop, listening to music, and checking in on social media.
“She hasn’t posted anything on Facebook, has she?” He glanced at Julia’s phone.
“Nope. What if something happened to her?”
“Let’s not assume anything bad yet.” His voice grated the back of his throat. “She obviously instructed the woman to deliver the dentures.”
“True …” Julia dragged her toe in the carpet. She tossed her phone into her purse, bit her lips and turned toward the exit.
“Wait, where are you going?” Carlos opened the door for her.
Julia strode quickly to the concrete steps without looking back, her high heels clipping at a furious pace.
He bounded to her side. “Is everything all right?”
“Just fine.” Julia held her handbag tightly against her side.
Uh oh. When a woman says everything is “just fine,” watch out.
“Hey, Julia.” He stepped in front of her. “Why don’t you and me do something fun? Sorry I dragged you all over town looking for your cousin.”
Julia twirled a thin strand of hair and shot him a dirty look. “My cousin? I thought I was helping you find your girlfriend from the looks of it.”
“Uh, no.” Carlos wiped his palms on his jeans. “She’s just a friend. You know that. I’ve been looking forward to our day together.”
“Okay, where to?” Her tone lightened up, airy and sweet.
Julia’s emotions seemed to turn on a dime, flirty and happy again. All because he said something nice. Ha, if only Choco were so easy to please.
“Surprise.” He took her hand.
“Oh, goody. I love surprises.” She leaned into him as they walked toward the van. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, and he caught a whiff of baby powder and rosewater. She was a delicate wisp of a girl, so pretty and feminine. Any man would be proud to have her on his arm.
Carlos unlocked the Barrio XO delivery van and helped Julia step up into the passenger seat. He wished he could have borrowed a car to take her out, but it had been so last minute. If he’d known Choc
o was going to go AWOL, he’d have asked her for her car.
But no. It’d be too girly to drive a date in her cousin’s Toyota. Lame.
“Excuse the smell.” He started the engine and lowered the windows. “We had a delivery of calamari, Chinese leeks, and bitter melon.”
Julia scrunched her nose and slipped a perfume bottle from her purse. She sprayed it toward the back seat. “There. I’ll pretend this is a limo.”
Carlos’s nose itched from the onslaught of baby powder and rosewater. His eyes watered with the urge to sneeze, but he blinked and squeezed his cheeks tightly, praying the sneeze would pass by.
“What’s wrong?” Julia touched his shoulder. “Still too stinky in here? I can spray more perfume.”
“No, ah … ah chooo!” Carlos caught his sneeze in his sleeve before he spewed all over her. Forcing a grin, he opened his eyes wide. “It’s good. Relax.”
He pulled the van out of the parking lot, and soon they were on the freeway. Now came the difficult part of making conversation with a date. He couldn’t talk about his mother, nor about the restaurant or his work. That would bore her to death and not create a good impression. What did a man talk about with a girl on a date? Especially a beautiful girl whose fiancé had jilted her at the wedding altar?
Sweat broiled under Carlos’s collar as the miles slid by. He cleared his throat several times and peeked at Julia. She was busy with her smartphone, so he turned on the CD player. The dulcet tones of Carlos Santana’s guitar riffed from the speakers.
He pulled off the freeway into the parking lot of Bombers, a small amusement park featuring miniature golfing, batting cages, an arcade, go carts, carnival rides and bumper boats. Choco always loved the go carts and outfoxed him every time by hugging the curves and cutting him off, knowing he’d never bump her on purpose. So far he’d been able to beat her by powering through the straights at full speed.
Julia didn’t seem to notice where they were until he’d turned off the ignition and closed the windows. She glanced at the spindly trees and fanned herself. “Can you leave the windows part way down? It’s going to be hot and smelly in here.”
“Oh, sure.” He turned on the electrical and opened the windows a crack. “Do you want to play miniature golf first or hit the go carts?”
“You didn’t tell me this was outdoors.” Julia dug through her purse. “Ah, here’s my sunscreen. Is it hot out there?”
“Not too bad.” Carlos stepped out of the van and walked to the passenger side. She still hadn’t answered him about whether she wanted to play miniature golf or race. Speaking of, he should bring Choco here for batting practice. Maybe she was done with studying for the day.
Julia was still applying sunscreen when he opened the passenger door, so he dashed a text message to Choco: Julia and I are at Bombers. Wanna take a swing at the batting cage?
“Who are you texting?” Julia jumped from the van.
“Your cousin. I thought she might want to meet us here. She needs batting practice.”
“I’ll say. Isn’t she the strike-out queen?” Julia laughed.
Somehow her laughter didn’t sound like tinkling bells to him. Instead it rattled his inner ear, especially since the object of her amusement was Choco.
“Choco’s going to get a hit someday. You’ll see. How about we play a game of miniature golf?”
“I’m not good at miniature golf.” Julia scanned the worn structures set up to look like an old Western town, complete with real peeling paint and weathered wood.
“You want to race instead?”
She craned her neck at the row of sputtering go carts. “Uh, too noisy. Can I ride with you in a two-seater?”
What was the point of riding together and not racing? Only the kids who weren’t tall enough to drive had to ride with an adult.
But when Julia looped her hand around his arm and cuddled up to him, Carlos figured it wouldn’t be so bad to drive with her in a two-seater.
# # #
Their car was the slowest on the track and got lapped by a group of gleeful teenaged girls. Julia had been scared to go fast. She was also worried about being bumped. Carlos had driven sedately without fits and starts around the winding race track. If Choco had been here, she’d be cutting him off and jeering at him. He could almost hear the “ha, ha, turtle face,” she’d lob at him whenever she’d zoom by.
The miniature golf game didn’t fare any better. He won easily, but it took Julia more than six shots for each hole and she dragged herself from each hole to the next in slow motion. The people behind them had been impatient and pointed to the rule: Maximum of six shots allowed.
“I don’t care anyway,” Julia said as they handed the golf clubs back. “You’ll always be better than me in any sport.”
“Didn’t you have fun?”
She tiptoed and kissed his chin. “Yeah, it was fun watching you measure your shots like you’re Tiger Woods.”
Ouch. He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but the kiss was a sweet surprise.
“I’m hot. Let’s go inside.” Julia fanned herself.
Carlos opened the door to the air conditioned arcade. Two screaming children streaked past them, one almost knocking Julia down.
He steadied her with a hand on the small of her back and led her to the token machine. Noise filled the darkened caverns with zapping, shooting, and roaring sounds.
Carlos bent to speak in Julia’s ear. “Do you like dancing games, driving games, or shooting games?”
“Uh … actually I’m not really good at video games either.” Julia shrugged and slipped her smartphone from her purse, glancing at it.
“Let’s eat something then.” Carlos pointed to the food section. “They’ve got great hot dogs here. I always get the original all beef with all the trimmings, and Choco likes the Italian garlic supreme, no sauerkraut.”
Julia crossed her arms and jutted her lower lip. “I’m her cousin, not her clone.”
Huh? How was he supposed to know what hot dog she liked?
He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. “I bet you like the mango chicken habanero one. That one’s for fancy types.”
Julia lowered her sunglasses and her jaw dropped. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing. Just tell me which one you like.”
“No, wait.” She slapped her hands on the counter. “Were you making fun of me? I’ve been a good sport, riding in the go cart with you and playing along with you on that golf game, and now you’re calling me a fancy girl because I don’t like Italian garlic supreme, no sauerkraut?”
“Uh, no, really. You should try the mango chicken habanero. It’s spicy and you might like it.”
“Why? Because I have a hot temper?”
Carlos wiped his forehead. He was beginning to see why Julia might have been left at the altar. Whew, maybe Steve had a lucky escape.
“No, really, you’re very sweet. Would you prefer pizza?”
The compliment seemed to calm her. Julia primly replaced her sunglasses and smiled, her perfect teeth lined up in a row. “Actually I’d like a small salad, no dressing, hold the cheese, and artesian water, Fiji, if they have it, with a twist of lime.”
Carlos relayed Julia’s order to the attendant.
“Sorry,” the man said. “We don’t have Fiji water. Would fruit punch be okay? We even have diet punch.”
“Diet punch? Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Julia said. “I’ll take filtered water then.”
The man filled a glass of water from the tap and handed it to Carlos while Julia studied her phone. They walked toward a high table with chrome bar stools.
Julia’s eyes flitted over the stained table surface. Scrunching her nose, she grabbed a napkin and wiped off the cracked vinyl seat.
“Need a lift?” Carlos placed his hands just inches from her tiny waist.
“Sure, big boy.” She winked and wiggled her shoulders as an invitation.
He picked her up easily and set her on the bar stool. S
he was so light and petite.
There was still hope.
Chapter 13
Carlos rubbed the inside of a suckling pig carcass with salt, pepper, and soy sauce while yelling at Victor to prepare the fire pit.
Danny cut out bunches of lemon grass, and Carlos stuffed the belly with saba bananas, anise, scallions, crushed garlic, and laurel leaves. They stacked stalks of lemon grass into the pig before sewing the belly tight.
Carlos held the pig so Danny could skewer it with a long iron rod. He brushed the skin with olive oil, and the two of them carried it to the pit.
His boss, Rey Sánchez, hollered from the doorway. “Carlos, have you seen Choco?”
Carlos programmed the skewer rotation speed, start and end times before turning to Rey. “I thought Johnny’s responsible for driving her to work. She didn’t show up at the softball game last night.”
Rey stomped to his side. “And you didn’t find out why she was missing?”
“Uh, no.”
Why was everyone acting as if he should keep track of Choco’s whereabouts? She’d made it plain to him that she was tired of his surveillance and had ignored all of his calls and texts.
“You aren’t the least bit worried?” Rey flipped him a sideways glance.
“No, she’s an adult.” An adult who’d told him in no uncertain terms that she did not want him looking over her shoulder.
“Well, she’s late for work,” Rey grumbled, looking at his cell phone.
Sorry, not my responsibility. Carlos took a brush and dipped it in olive oil to brush the next pig Victor and Danny had prepared.
“Still no answer.” Rey closed his phone and tapped Carlos’s shoulder. “Let’s talk in my office. Your visa expires in a few months, and they increased the filing fees.”
Heat broiled under Carlos’s collar. He took off his black chef’s bandana and wiped his forehead. Why was Mr. Sánchez tying worrying about his daughter to his visa? It had always been this way. “Watch over Choco.” “Take care of Evie.” “Chaperone Genie.” “Find out about that guy hanging around my daughters.”
Claiming Carlos Page 8
