Chapter Twenty-Two
MICHAEL
Suddenly, the idea of going back to the hotel seemed like a huge waste of time. Neither Camila nor I knew where to start our investigations, and we hadn't even talked about it before we got there.
We decided to start where it all began, retracing our steps that day. So, we first went to the lobby bar.
This time, however, we decided to order two Cokes. No alcohol, for our own safety. The last thing we needed was another drunken situation.
We were served by a woman, which led to my first observation.
“There was a guy serving us that day, wasn't there?”
“Maybe he only works here at night,” Camila said, taking the first sip of her soda. “So, that day I came here shortly after you arrived. Before you joined me, I had only exchanged a few words with the bartender, I didn't talk to anyone else.”
“Well, I talked to a lot of people, but I didn't notice anyone having any intention of spying on me. How much do you remember from those drinking hours?”
“Very little. But I was still lucid when you sat down next to me, and we started talking.”
“Were you lucid when you said I was an asshole?”
“Alcohol gives us some courage to say whatever comes to mind. Well, it doesn't matter... After a few minutes of talking, I only have flashes of memories.”
“Remember the part about the beaded ring?”
Her face turned red, and I have to admit, I found it amusing how shy she got with anything, let’s say, more intimate.
She’d probably remembered the argument that led us to 'get engaged.' She had said she wouldn’t sleep with me because we didn’t have a serious commitment, so I decided to solve that by creating a serious relationship for us.
If beaded rings exchanged during a drunken binge could be considered serious.
She looked around, pointing somewhere. I followed her eyes in the same direction, finding a very colorful booth, decorated with hundreds of trinkets.
“That's where we bought the damn ring, wasn't it?”
I nodded. I downed the last sip of soda and stood up, grabbing Camila's hand and pulling her with me.
We went to the place and, luckily for us, I recognized the attendant.
She was a woman in her early forties, wearing a light, colorful dress that reached her feet, where she was wearing flat sandals.
Her blonde, curly hair reached down to her waist, and she made a noise as she walked due to the number of bracelets she was carrying on her arms.
As soon as she approached us to serve us, she looked at us curiously, taking a few seconds to recognize us.
“You're back! Wow, what joy to meet again the most passionate couple I've ever met.”
This time, I was the one who felt a strong wave of embarrassment.
Passionate? Where had that crazy woman gotten that from?
Camila immediately let go of my hand, only seeming to realize at that moment that she was still holding it.
I cleared my throat, trying to maintain the lie.
“We're glad you still remember us. That night was very... intense.”
“I noticed.” She gave a small smile. “I hope you came to invite me to the wedding, like you promised you would.”
“We don't have the invitations yet, but we'll be back as soon as we do.”
I made a mental note to include the young lady on the guest list. Even though the wedding was scheduled to be canceled months before it took place, the invitations would be sent out before then.
I just hoped no one would bother to buy gifts in advance.
Camila took the floor:
“You know, we were a little drunk that night, and even though everything was beautiful and magical, just like we always dreamed it would be…” She paused, seeming to choke on her own lie.
‘Beautiful and magical?' She was really saying that. “We’re really sorry we don’t remember the details. I thought you could help us with that. You know, it’ll be important for us to write our vows. ”
And wasn't she good at that? And I was the son of an actress...
Camila seemed to be convincing enough for the woman, who smiled excitedly and began to recall the facts.
“Well, you were very excited when you got here. You were even singing.”
“Singing?” Camila frowned. Apparently, she didn't remember that fact.
Me neither, to tell the truth. I started thinking about what song we must have come in singing, and whatever option came to mind was far from what the girl reported.
“Yes, you were singing Endless Love.”
“What?” we both asked in unison.
" Endless Love . You know... Lionel Richie and Diana Ross ? ‘My love... There's only you in my life. ..’" she sang softly. And she wasn’t even that off-key, but it still made my head hurt.
Michael Turner had gotten engaged to a woman while Endless Love played in the background. How rock bottom was that for a former heartthrob like me?
“Okay, I get it, we know Endless Love ,” I cut her off. “And after that?”
“You said you wanted to buy rings that matched your image to formalize your commitment to the most seductive woman you had ever seen in your life.” She let out a sigh and I thought again about all the tackiness of those attitudes.
“So, I showed you the rings and you chose the ones you liked the most.”
“How much did they cost?” Camila’s question had no relevance to our investigation, but I understood her objective.
Well, she said she would have sex with me if we made some kind of commitment. I think that after a condition like that, knowing the price of the agreement must be important to her.
“Oh, they were the cheapest. They cost eight dollars each.”
"Eight dollars," Camila repeated slowly, shooting me a less-than-friendly look right after. "Very fitting for someone like me..."
What was she even complaining about? She hadn’t held up her end of the deal. I spent eight bucks for nothing—she fell asleep as soon as we got to the room.
And later, I gave her a ring with a massive diamond, worth more than everything on that entire hippie stand combined.
The girl continued, “You were in doubt between that one and another model. It was your best man who helped you choose.”
Camila and I looked at each other, both of us on alert at those words.
“We had a best man?” I asked.
The girl laughed.
“Wow! You really don’t remember that? You were really drunk. You invited Julian to be your best man.”
“Julian?” What the hell, I didn't know anyone with that name.
But, to my pleasant surprise, he was not a stranger to the woman.
“He usually worked in the hotel kitchen, but that night he was assigned to be a waiter.”
“Does he work here?” Camila asked.
“He used to. He resigned, or was fired, I don't know, a few days ago. What a shame, he was a very nice guy.”
I paused, trying to organize the information in my mind. Camila and I had actually talked about the possibility of some hotel employee acting as an accomplice in all of this, and now it was as clear as day.
I had no idea what to ask from there, but Camila was smarter than me:
“Don’t pay attention to my fiancé, he’s really absent-minded. Of course we know who Julian is, he was so nice to us that night, we couldn’t help but invite him to be our best man. We really wanted to get him a wedding invitation too, it’s a shame we don’t know where he lives.”
“He lived nearby, it would be easy to find out where, but now it will be more difficult because he moved. I think he even left Los Angeles.”
“Where did he go?” I asked, hoping she had the answer.
To my dismay, she didn't. “I have no idea. Julian was friendly, but he never really opened up to any of his coworkers.”
We tried to ask a few more questions, but the saleswoman didn't have anything else that could help us.
So, we thanked her for everything, she hugged us, waved an incense stick around us saying that it would bring us happiness in love and much fertility so that we could have many children – which left Camila completely red again – and we said goodbye.