Marbella Nights

by Camille Oster

  It had been a shock seeing one of Trish’s friends on the boat when they’d arrived. It meant the death knell to any kind of relationship with Trish, and maybe that was for the best.

  “You alright? You look a bit introspect,” Aggie said.

  “No, I’m good. This place is cool, isn’t it? Do you know who owns it?”

  “It’s this British couple Felix knows.”

  Cory wasn’t sure which of the guys Felix was, but he didn’t really care either. He was only here for the girl in front of him. Her bikini covered breasts were half out of the water and her skin looked pale in the turquoise water. She was gorgeous and had an open spirit he liked.

  “Come in,” she said and pushed away from him, shooting through the water. Cory pushed himself off the edge and sank into the cool liquid. His skin prickled, but it wasn’t cold enough to last more than a few moments. Pushing off with his feet, he swam after her as she made her way across to the other side. It was going to be a lazy weekend of swimming and hanging out, and it was right down his alley. “Do you want to go for a walk along the beach before dinner?”

  “Yeah, why not?” It was darkening around them, the sky turning pink with mauve hues above them. Aggie got out and Cory sank under the water, running his fingers through his hair. For a moment he felt a flare of sadness, again knowing he had firmly let go of anything with Trish, but it was for the best. He didn’t get sentimental about girls, and there was something about Trish that was scary. It wasn’t her as such, because she was an awesome chick, but it was how uncontrolled he felt around her.

  He emerged from the water and swam to the side, pulling himself up the ledge to standing. Aggie handed him a towel and he wrapped it around his shoulders. She already wore a beach wrap and sandals. Cory put the towel away and pulled on his shirt, which stuck to his mostly wet body.

  Wrapping his arm around Aggie, they walked down towards the beach.

  “Who’s cooking tonight?”

  “I think Felix has hired in one of the restaurants to do the catering.”

  Cory nodded, glad that food was sorted. He didn’t fare well skipping a meal. “It’s crazy that I live so close to here, but have never come across.”

  “It’s more developed than you’d expect. More and more people are buying vacation property here, although the legal system is a nightmare, I’m told.”

  The sea lapped gently on the beach, the water growing darker by the minute and more lights showing up along the coast.

  “You alright? You seem a bit quiet,” she asked.

  “No, I’m good. Just in a pensive mood, I guess.” He had to snap out of it if even she was noticing he was in a funky mood. He had no reason to be, he was in fucking Morocco with a cute girl, who was also really interesting. “It’s strange to think a huge continent lies down that way. Is Casablanca around here?”

  “No, it’s quite far.”

  “Shame. I might have to come back here and explore.”

  “It’s a beautiful coastline. Everywhere around here is beautiful.”

  Dinner was served along the large table by the pool, lamps hung from strings above them, making everything look soft and fresh. The food was lamb, cooking succulently and fragrantly. Wine bottles were opened and passed around the table. Cory had changed into a new shirt after showering and he accepted a bottle of red, which he poured into his own and Aggie’s glasses.

  The conversation was vibrant and fast, mostly talking about people they knew. This was definitely a circle of friends, who knew the same people. He supposed they weren’t so different from his mates at home. Maybe things weren’t different wherever you went.

  Trish’s friend and her guy came walking down the stairs, letting go of their clasped hands as soon as they walked out on the terrace. What was her name, Adelaide or something? She looked back at the guy, laughing at something he whispered in her ear.

  They sat down at the other end of the table and she made a bare acknowledgement of him. She didn’t like him, but he guessed he understood. She had to be loyal to her mate, but it wasn’t like they had ever been a couple or anything.

  Aggie tore a piece off a flat bread and popped it in her mouth, talking to this Felix guy she’d mentioned before. Felix didn’t seem to eat, just drank and smoked. He had an arrogance about him that grated, not that he’d say anything to Cory, because the guy was probably avoiding being punched in the face. His dark hair was slicked back with product and he sat with his ankle over his knee.

  You can’t really pick your wider social circle; they come with your circumstances, just like his had been a circumstance of his friends at school. Still, he sat back and watched them talk, sipping his wine after he was done eating. He was content with the night. Obviously, some of the people here he didn’t want to know better, some he knew from the club, but he was happy to hang out with Aggie for a weekend. If she had any expectations for them beyond this weekend, she hadn’t made any indication. He liked hanging out with her; she was easy and fun, but he wouldn’t be crushed once they finally drifted apart.

  Chapter 31

  With her bowl of cereal, Trish lay down on the sofa and crossed her legs, watching one of the English channels on TV. She felt too lazy to actually cook something, so resorted to cereal. It was Amber’s turn to washing the dishes, which wasn’t something she could do quietly.

  “God, this is so boring,” Hannah said. “I hate Sunday nights, they’re not quite the weekend, just a slow anticipation of having to go to work tomorrow.”

  “Do you want to go out and do something?”

  “Nah, I’m broke.”

  A key was shoved into the door, which was strange as it was too early for Chrissy to come home, who was back at work as her sprained ankle was healing nicely. Adelaide walked in, shoving her key back in her pocket. “Hey,” she said and sat down on a spare seat. “What are you watching?”

  “Some reality thing. I’m not really getting into it though.”

  “That’s the thing with reality shows, you have to either be all in it or not at all. How was your trip?” Hannah said.

  “Good. Morocco was nice.”

  “Just nice.”

  “I didn’t get to actually see much of it,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “Just the inside of Quentin Cartright’s pants?”

  “There might have been a bit of that,” Adelaide said, rubbing the back of her neck.

  “So are you like a couple now?”

  “No, well, yes, maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to be?”

  Adelaide shrugged. “I like him, but you know, we’re so different.”

  “Different can be good.”

  Adelaide twisted her fingers together. “Cory was there with that English girl.”

  Trish chewed the inside of her cheek and shrugged. “I don’t care.” She was being way more nonchalant than she actually felt. That bastard. Just ran between them however he felt. Fuck him. Anger flooded along her body. Seriously, the next time he comes along, all smiles and charms, she was going to tell him where to shove it. Bastard.

  The cereal suddenly turned to cardboard and she put it down on the coffee table. She could feel the other two girls watching her and hated being under such scrutiny, like they were looking for a reaction. “I’m going to bed,” she said, wanting to be on her own.

  She wasn’t crushed; she was just angry. It wasn’t like it was a surprise; he’d done it before. Bastard. She trudged up the stairs and shut herself away in her bedroom, clutching a pillow to her stomach. Guys sucked. There was no way around that. They had the emotional maturity of a potato. Why the hell did she put up with them?

  Trish felt better the next day, vowing to put that whole thing behind her. She was even better the following day and the one after, their planned night off soon rolled around.

  They’d been good girls for days, working, sleeping and lying low. Now it was time to go out and they all went through their getting ready ritual, including making vodka cocktails d
own in the lounge before the taxi came.

  Emperor was crowded as it always was on Wednesday nights. Trish wore a white mini dress. It was Chrissy’s dress actually and it was a tad too short, making Trish stop every few minutes to tug it down her legs. Maybe this dress hadn’t been the best idea, but she’d wanted to feel sexy that night and so what if the dress rode up a bit? She was still conservatively dressed compared to some.

  They stayed at the bar until they had drinks, then made their way out to the outside bar in the back, where large hurricane lamps lit the space.

  “Crap, Nathan’s here,” Chrissy said as they walked towards the back.

  Trish bit her lips together. If Nathan was there, Cory probably was too, unless he was hanging with his British girl. “Let’s go back inside.”

  “Yup,” Chrissy said with a sharp turn, almost spilling her drink. “I have zero interest in sitting by those arseholes all night.”

  They walked back into the crowded building towards the open, elevated balcony where a group was just vacating a table. “Chips, anyone?” Chrissy called.

  “I could actually eat something more,” Hannah said and pulled the menu off the table.

  “This time of night, it will take them an hour to get the food out.”

  “Doesn’t bother me. Plus we can hit it on the dancefloor. You guys might not be so keen, but I want to dance,” Hannah said, already getting into it.

  “Fine, we can dance.” Dancing for the sake of it was very different from podium dancing, and it would be nice to not have to think about it, and just move. She shouldn’t have worn these shoes, Trish thought, looking down at her heels. But maybe she was just being a little precious worrying about comfortable footwear on a night out.

  A harried-looking waitress turned up, wearing a black apron over her jeans and tank top. They ordered chips and a club sandwich, and a pitcher of Sangria.

  They danced until the food arrived, keeping an eye on their stuff in case someone tried to steal their table away, which they reclaimed as soon as their chips arrived. Hannah ate her sandwich and the rest picked at the chips. It wasn’t perhaps a grand meal, but it would do. The Sangria was nice with bits of fruit floating in it.

  “Such gorgeous ladies to feast one’s eyes on,” a guy said, sitting down at the spare seat. He was British of some variety. Trish wasn’t good enough at distinguishing their accents to make out where he was from, but he had guts to approach a table of girls and sit down uninvited. “Where’re you from?”

  “Manly in Sydney,” Amber said. Adelaide raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue because being from New Zealand was often a moot point in Europe.

  “Aussies,” the guy smiled. “Alright. I’m Johnny.”

  “You here on your own, Johnny?”

  “Naw, here with the guys, but they’re shy.” The guy was fishing for an invitation.

  “On holiday, I take it?”

  “Just a few days. We’re from Leeds.” It was one of those places Trish had heard of but never quite knew where it was. “We’re vet students.”

  “Really?” Chrissy said. “That’s cool.”

  He waved the guys over and they eagerly came. They seemed alright, better than some of the slime balls that came to this place. Better than the slime balls in the back area.

  A guy sat down next to Trish. He had brown hair and eyes, and rosy cheeks on otherwise perfect skin. “Rohan,” he said.

  “You a vet, too?” Trish asked.

  “Yeah, but unlike these clowns, I do large animals, while these guys do poxy pets.”

  “That means you’ll work with farms, then?”

  “Yep. Bovine and Equine mostly.”

  Actually that was quite cool. Looking up, Trish saw Nathan standing with his hands on the backs of two of their chairs, leaning down to speak to Chrissy, who was shaking her head to whatever he said. “Hey girls,” he said.

  A luke warm reply came from the girls, before he walked off.

  “He asked if we wanted to join them.”

  “Like hell,” Trish said under her breath.

  “I said no,” Chrissy continued.

  “Can’t leave us now,” one of the vets said. “Not when we’ve just met you. So what do you do?”

  “We live here, actually,” Hannah said. “I work in a medical office.”

  “We’re dancers.”

  “I work on a yacht,” Adelaide piped in.

  “Cool. Locals,” one of the guys said.

  They chatted for a while and Nathan returned, whispering in Chrissy’s ear again, who sighed. The other guys followed behind and all of a sudden their group grew as Nathan’s crew introduced themselves with guarded bravado to the British vets.

  Cory stood by a couple of guys, holding a bottle of Heineken in his hand. He nodded when he made eye contact with Trish, but didn’t approach, for which she was grateful. As much as she hated it, he looked good in those jeans.

  Trish felt like swearing when he later sat down opposite her. “Where’s your girlfriend tonight?” she asked tartly, trying to keep it light so pure bitterness didn’t flow out of her mouth.

  “We’re not a couple; we just hang out.”

  “So I heard,” she said, taking a sip of her sangria. Okay, you can leave now, she wanted to say, but held her tongue.

  Cory looked uncomfortable for a minute. Good, Trish thought, but it wasn’t like it mattered. Nothing about him mattered. Trish turned her attention to Rohan, who was talking about the drive they’d done coming here. They’d chosen to drive instead of fly, even though it was longer and more expensive.

  “You have to appreciate the journey. We’ve seen things we’d never get to see if we flew.”

  “I’m with you. There’s so much to see in Europe; it’s almost better to take the slow route.”

  “Well, it helps if you have two weeks off. So how come you ended up in Marbella?”

  “Accident, really. Like most of us here, it’s just something you fall into.”

  She felt more than saw Cory get up and leave, refilling her glass once he was gone. Good. She’d shown him that he, and what he did, didn’t matter in the least. Smiling, she took a sip.

  Nathan was still trying it on with Chrissy, but she was sitting with her arms crossed, pouting as she listened to him. She should just tell him to fuck off, or ignore him until he went away. It was a tactic that worked just fine. Not perhaps the most mature, but effective.

  Rohan went away and came back with a couple of drinks, which was good since the last of the sangria had gone. Two of the vet guys were dancing with Hannah, and Trish smiled, glad Hannah was getting her dancing lust exercised. And then she was kissing one of the guys. Okay, that had taken a left turn rather suddenly.

  “So you’re from Manly,” Rohan said, leaning on the table. His rosy cheeks had grown a little rosier and his eyes a tad bit glassy as the alcohol was apparently hitting him.

  “North shore girl,” she confirmed.

  “I love Australia. You know they recruit a lot of vets from here—England, I mean. To work in the outback.”

  “I’m not surprised. They have pretty high turnover. People come and do it for a while, then move on. It’s a harsh environment.”

  “I’d love to go to Alice Springs—this town, stuck in the middle of nowhere, days away from anything else. Us here in Europe can’t quite wrap our mind around the isolation. We’ve been talking about doing a trip down to Australia next year.”

  “You should go.”

  “I think we have these romantic notions of Australia.”

  “It’s a really different lifestyle. I’m not, like, from the outback, but even in Sydney, it’s a different lifestyle than here.”

  “I can imagine.”

  The alcohol was starting to loosen her tongue, too. Rohan was really easy to talk to and she felt this comradery with him, both foreigners in this place, from completely different backgrounds, but still finding so much in common.

  She needed to go to the bathroom and got up, wa
lked past Cory who was standing a bit further away, talking to Lachlan. His eyes were on her as she walked past and she physically felt herself bristle. What right did he have to be there, judging her? No one in their right mind would blame her for moving on—he had, after all.

  It might be true that she was a little light on her feet and her head felt like a balloon floating on top of her head. This drama was killing her; she just wanted to have fun, and Cory was anything but fun. The constant tension she’d felt in the last couple of weeks, with the repeated disappointment because he was such a dog, was getting to her. No, she was done with him—completely and utterly.

  Rohan was chatting with one of the other guys when she got back to the table.

  “Do you want to dance?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said and got up. She grabbed his hand and they moved onto the dance floor, into the crowd. Trish had some moves to show him and immediately had his attention.

  “You’re awesome at this,” he said, stepping closer to her.

  “Aww, thank you. If nothing else, I can dance.”

  “Can you what.” They got closer, enough for her to put her hands on his lower arms. Closer still; he was coming in for a kiss and Trish felt her stomach clench. A first kiss with someone and he was really cute. Nothing heavy or gut wrenching, just a couple of strangers hitting it off on a night out. This was flirting at its purest, them just standing there, moving, showing, slight touching. It was easy and fun. No expectations existed. He would go home in a few days and this was just for fun.

  And then it got too warm in the crowd, the steam of hundreds of bodies descending like a blast furnace. “Drink time?” she suggested.

  “Lead the way.”

  They headed back to the table. Trish first, her hand entwined in Rohan’s. Would she actually consider going home with him that night, she wondered. It would definitely be a one night thing, but it would be sweet and light.

  Cory made a snorting noise when she passed.

  “Excuse me?” she demanded. “Have you got something to say?”