by Livia Ellis
“Because you don't? Gloria's an MBA student at Colombia. Went to Stanford just like you. Lives on the same block I grew up on. Go figure.”
Henna gave Gloria and Inez a smile and a wave. “Hello.”
“I'm sorry Fatima was a total bitch to you,” Gloria said. “But that's her. A total bitch.”
“Fatima is being wholly herself,” Inez said diplomatically in flawless aristocratic English. Her English was absolutely perfect. Beyond perfect. No native speaker spoke so smoothly. “This sort of behavior was only to be expected.”
“Your English is absolutely perfect,” she complimented Inez.
“My mother was English,” Inez explained. “My father was Portuguese. I split my time between the two countries when I was growing up.”
“How did you end up in Colombia?”
“Love, my dear.” Inez smiled. “Love is a great motivator. Especially when it came to moving out of my London flat to the wilds of Colombia fifty years ago.”
“That's love.”
“Considering we didn't even have indoor plumbing when I got there? Yes. That was love.”
Henna laughed as did her father and Gloria.
Eduardo's voice rose above the other small conversations at the table for a brief moment. Just enough to capture her attention and keep it.
“What are they saying?” she asked her father.
“He wants to know what she's doing here because this is for family only. She told him that she's just as good as family and don't make a scene in front of Romeo's new in-laws.”
Gloria leaned in slightly. “She is not just as good as family. She's a total bitch and I despise her.”
“Gloria.” Inez looked at her granddaughter. “Language.”
“She is a bitch,” Gloria repeated. “I'm sorry, but she is.”
“Who is she?” her father asked.
“She's my father's girlfriend,” Gloria explained. “And by girlfriend, I mean they're lovers. She thinks they're getting married, but god as my witness, I'll put a bullet in that woman before I let her marry my father.”
Henna shot a look across the table to where Eduardo was engaged in a quiet conversation with Fatima. Gloria might have to beat her to a gun. She pulled her phone out of her bag and looked at it. Three texts from Simon. All wanting an update. She ignored Simon and moved on to Eduardo. Did you really think I wasn't going to find out you had a girlfriend? Do not ever speak to me again, you miserable lying bastard. She hit send then dropped her phone into her bag as the conversation continued around her.
“Now that's a loyal daughter.” Her father nodded in approval. “No woman good enough for your daddy?”
“That's right.” Gloria stared across the table at Fatima. “Especially that one.”
Henna watched as Eduardo reached into his breast pocket and removed his phone. His already dark face turned grim. He didn't bother to look up at her as he responded. When her phone chirped, she ignored it.
“Your father is never going to marry that woman,” Inez said. “If he does, I really will drop dead the day of the wedding and then come back and haunt him. I will. That's not just a threat. I love my son, but I've had just about enough of Fatima. That whole business with Don Juan Esperanza was the last straw for me.”
“Don Juan Esperanza?” Henna said automatically. Her phone chirped a second time in her bag. The temptation to look finally got the best of her. Two texts from Eduardo. The first one. She is not my girlfriend. The second. I am not a lying bastard and stop ignoring me. Her response. Bite me.
Eduardo had inherited his charm from his mother and his looks from his father. Where he got being a low down lying bastard from was still unknown.
“Don't ask,” Inez sighed. “It's too nice a morning to talk about Don Juan Esperanza. Now instead, you tell us about yourself. You are a doctor? You are intelligent like my Gloria. I always admire young women that realize their potential.”
She glanced at Eduardo as he read her infantile retort. There was no response. He put his phone in his pocket and continued his conversation with Midge and Leo. That couldn't be it. It wasn't possible he'd just do as instructed and never speak to her again. Or was it?
Henna turned all her attention to her father, Gloria, and Inez, Eduardo's mother. Even if she wanted to look at Eduardo, her eyes refused to look anywhere near him. So she enjoyed a conversation with her father and the two Salazar women.
The conversation around her spared her from having to look at her inactive phone. Eduardo didn't send another message during brunch. By the time she choked down what she could of her pancakes, she saw an opportunity to escape quickly and discreetly.
“Where are you going?” her mother asked when she started to get up from her chair.
“I...” She picked up her handbag and scooted around her chair. “I wanted to go to the perfumery. I want to see how the perfume is made.” Not true. She was going to go and sit in her room and feel sorry for herself, maybe have a cry, then try to figure out if it was her, the men she met, or a combination of both that always equaled tears.
“I was going to do this very same thing,” Eduardo said, rising from his chair. “I will join you. Would anyone else care to join us?”
She stared at him not certain if she should be angry that he would just assume she wasn't really mad at him or furious that he ignored her warning to stay away.
“I'd love to come,” Aunt Midge said, standing. “Lou and I went to the perfumery years ago. It's just gorgeous all of those fields of flowers. You'll love it.”
“Excellent,” she cheered. Aunt Midge would be an effective barrier to an awkward conversation.
“Aunt Midge,” Eden whined. “I need you to do my hem and my straps.”
“Or not today,” Aunt Midge said, sitting.
“I could stay,” Henna offered quickly. “I'm the maid of honor. I should be around today. In fact. I'm going to stay.”
“Go,” Eden said with a wave of her hand. “When was the last time you actually had a day off and did something other than clean your stove or have your car serviced?”
“You need me more than I need to go to the perfumery. And I’ve missed you and I’d like to spend time with you.”
“It’s fine,” Eden said. “We are booked in for a big spa day tomorrow and can catch up then. I’m busy today with Romeo, finalizing arrangements with the hotel’s wedding planner.”
“You really don’t need me?”
“Go with my father,” Romeo said. “Have a good time.” He turned to his father. “Take Henna to the caves. The caves are incredible.”
“We will go to the caves,” Eduardo said. “We might even have time to go to the fort. We may be gone all day.”
“No. We will not be gone all day.”
“Go,” her mother said. “We just have to get Eden's dress sorted out. You'd think living in Italy she might have found a seamstress to get her hem done.”
“I told you I was really busy,” Eden said. “Planning a wedding is stressful.”
“Stressful? The hotel did everything and the two of you sent out an email. Where is the stress in that?”
“You really can’t understand how hard it was to find the perfect dress.”
“You mean the dress you didn’t get hemmed?”
Eduardo reached for the pitcher of Mimosa’s on the table and refills her mother’s glass.
“Smart man,” her father mumbled. “Judith. Never mind. I’m taking you golfing then for lunch. Eden and Romeo don’t need you flipping out. Eden and Romeo, do whatever you need to do to make sure everything goes according to plan. Henna, you go to the perfume thing with Eduardo. Eduardo, don’t take Henna to any underground caves. The last time I did that, she had a panic attack and puked all over my shoes.”
“I was eight.”
“Midge you sort out the dress.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Aunt Midge called out with a salute.
“Clever. Leo.”
“Yo.”
“Plan a tasteful and appropriate evening out for the men.”
“You mean a bachelor party?” Leo hummed in anticipation.
“No,” Eden shrieked. “No bachelor party. Especially a bachelor party planned by Leo.”
“Eden…” Hanna’s father raised a hand. “Appropriate evening out for the men. Those men including me, Eduardo, Enrique, and Father Paulo. Okay?”
“Fine,” Eden said.
Her father looked at Leo. “Do I need to tell you no strippers or hookers?”
“No,” Leo said. “I’m a little offended that you would think you might have to.”
“Do I need to remind you about your cousin Bobby’s bachelor party?” Her father stared down his middle child and only son.
“No,” Aunt Midge, the mother of cousin Bobby, growled.
“Anyone over the age of fifty who will not mention wedding plans and dresses and wants to go play golf with me and Judith, raise a hand.”
Enrique and Father Paulo each raised a hand.
“Perfect,” her father said. “We have a foursome. That’s all of us sorted. We meet back here at seven for cocktails.”
The people at the table began breaking off into their groups and disbursing.
“I'll go with you,” Fatima said to Eduardo. “But I really would rather go shopping, just us.” Fatima looked at Henna. “You go do your tourist thing by yourself like you wanted.”
“There you go,” Henna said to Eduardo. “Take her shopping.” Maybe buy her something that fits over her boobs.
Henna smiled at Fatima then turned and walked in the direction of the elevator. Whatever Eduardo said to Fatima as she walked away sounded forceful and unpleasant. She didn't need to look to know Eduardo was behind her. A small swell of victory rose inside her. He might have ignored her invitation to engage in a texting battle, but he hadn’t given up and walked away without giving her the satisfaction of a lame excuse and a bit of groveling.
Henna watched Eduardo out of the corner of her eye as she waited on the elevator. From the stand filled with brochures for sightseeing trips and points of interest, he picked up four. He handed her the pamphlets, and she glanced at them. The Crystal Caves, the maritime museum, the aquarium, and the perfumery.
“I am not going anywhere with you,” she whispered to him as he stood next to her and they waited on the elevator. “I am especially not going to any caves.”
“Worried you're going to vomit on my shoes?”
“I was eight. Where is your girlfriend?” She looked at the brochure for the aquarium. She made a mental note to get there before leaving Bermuda.
“She is not my girlfriend.”
“Does she know this? Because Gloria told me that you two are lovers.”
“Being my lover, does not make her my girlfriend.”
Henna stared up at him for a moment before purposefully ignoring his presence. The elevator door opened, and she entered with him next to her. Fatima was approaching across the lobby. Her enormous breasts waving in sync with her hand.
Henna looked up at Eduardo. “What did you tell her?”
“That she annoyed me, and that I’d rather scoop my eyes out with spoons than take her shopping.” He rapidly pushed their floor number then punched the close door button. Fatima almost made it, but not quite.
“She is not my girlfriend,” he repeated. “We were lovers, but it's over. It was over a month ago, and she knows this perfectly well. Believe me. The entire staff of the hotel we stayed at in Buenos Aires and a few cab drivers knows that it was over between us.”
Part of Henna wanted to be a witness to what a fight between Fatima and Eduardo looked like. She imagined a lot of screaming, finger pointing, and a fair amount of broken crockery. Eduardo’s passion filled him until it spilled out in his lovemaking. She’d avoid getting him truly angry. Assuming she decided to believe him. “Why do I have the feeling you are not a pleasant man to be around when you’re angry?”
“Because I’m not. I am tempted to be angry with Romeo for inviting Fatima, but I can’t be. I never got around to telling him that Fatima and I were finished. This is why she is here. That, plus the fact she is Romeo's godmother. He had to invite her regardless of my personal feelings.”
“She's Romeo's godmother?”
“She was Pilar's best friend.” At least he had the decency to look embarrassed.
“You're sleeping with your dead wife's best friend? Tell me honestly. If Pilar were alive, would she kick your ass on principle for being such a...” The right word escaped her. Then it came to her. “Such a man? Let's be honest. Those giant boobs had to factor in your poor decision making somewhere.”
“If Pilar were alive, then I wouldn't ever take another woman to bed.”
“You know what I mean.”
“She'd beat the shit out of me. Repeatedly. Not just because Fatima was her best friend or because she's Romeo's godmother, but because she's so outrageous and kind of annoying.”
“I think I would have liked Pilar.”
“You two would have gotten along very well. You are both very strong women that clearly have no fear when it comes to putting me in my place.”
“Fatima is not your girlfriend. You swear she's not your girlfriend?”
“She's not my girlfriend. She never was. We were just lovers. As you pointed out precisely, I am a man. I have needs. The enormous breasts were a selling point. I probably could have made a better choice, but when she stuck those in my face, my resistance crumbled.”
“Ass.” She chuckled despite herself.
“You have already told me that you like my ass, so I will take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn't.”
“I know.”
She forgave him. Fatima wasn't a part of their story as a couple. If such a designation could even be applied to what they had. Lovers, as old fashioned and somewhat clandestine as it sounded, fit.
“Do you think anyone knows?” She looked up at him and saw the same delicious profile she'd woken up to that morning.
“That we're lovers?” he asked. “No.”
“You're not going to tell anyone about what happened between us, right?” She stared at him.
“Henna,” he said. “I do not know what kind of men you spend your time with, but they must not be very well mannered if they spend their time talking about their romantic involvements.”
The elevator stopped at their floor, letting them out.
Henna walked down the hall to her room and opened the door with the card. She heard Eduardo close the door behind them, flicking the security lock in place.
Immediately, she went to the balcony and closed the sheers against the sunlight pouring through the open doors. The sheers pushed back the bright light and offered privacy, but flickered gently in the perfumed breeze that floated in.
“It is a beautiful place,” Eduardo said, coming up behind her. His hands lighted on her waist, drawing her back against his body.
“It is,” she said. His hands slid around her body and lay flat against her stomach as his mouth found her neck. “What are you doing?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” she said. “I don't.”
“Then I am trying to entice you to come to bed with me.” His hands slid over the silk of her dress to cup her breasts. “While everyone thinks we are being tourists, we can spend the day making love.”
“I rather like that plan,” she said. “But what do we say when they ask what the perfumery was like?”
“We tell them that it was beautiful.” He slid his hands down her body to the cloth belt that held her tank dress together. “And that they should go.”
“That would be fibbing,” she said as he quickly unknotted her belt with his nimble fingers.
“I would do more than fib to have you in my arms.” His fingers edged inside her dress opening it up and slipped it off of her shoulders.
Henna laughed a little as she stood in her shoes.
“Am I f
unny?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “You are unreal. I didn't think men like you existed.”
“What kind of man am I?” His fingers found her nipples through the filmy lace of her bra and began pinching and plucking. He then nudged the lace of the cups under the curves of her breasts, freeing them to receive the full benefit of his attention.
Part of her just wanted to reach behind her, unhook her bra and toss it to the side. But one night with Eduardo was enough to know he was a man who liked to be in charge of his own seduction and he didn't need her help.
“Charming,” she said, pressing her lips together as she thought. “Sexy. Handsome. Seductive. Masculine.”
“These are all very good things.” He released her nipples and his hands traveled down her body to her panties. The way he stood behind her meant there was little she could do to him while he continued to methodically stimulate and disrobe her. A voice inside her head told her to let go and let herself be made love to. Henna gave herself permission to simply be and not have to do.
One hand cupped her sex massaging the lace material into her aching mound. A moan escaped her throat as she began to rub against his hand.
“Don't be so eager,” he chided, giving her pussy a gentle slap.
Henna gasped at the shock of pleasure his unexpected swat gave her.
“Did you like that?” His laugh was low and liquid like melted chocolate. “Maybe I'll do it again later. But now...” His hand returned to massaging her pussy. “Just be patient. We do not need to be anywhere. There is no need to hurry.”
“If you keep that up, I'm going to come.” Her knees started to wobble. “Hurry or no, what you're doing is exquisite.”
“You are eager,” he said continuing to massage her. “I think you have never had a lover who you could trust to give you pleasure, so you've always taken it as quickly as you could get it.”
Her immediate reaction was to feel offended. Then she thought about it. “Actually, you're absolutely right.”
His hand stopped massaging and rested on her hip. “I am not a selfish lover,” he whispered. “Your pleasure is my pleasure.”
One foot started to slide out of her shoe.
“Leave them on,” he said. “Just for now.”
