Chapter 8
On our way back to the restaurant, Mia turns the car radio volume to its max.
Queen’s We Are the Champions spills from the speakers as Mia energetically moves along with the music.
I was deeply aggravated right after the encounter with Elias, but now I just feel empty and sad.
I’m caught off guard by my disappointment at the revelation that this man I met only once, turned out to be a first-class jerk.
He might not have literally said that he owns a diving academy, but he also conveniently left out what he does aside from diving.
Or maybe by diving, he actually meant that he likes to plunge head-first into his cash vault like Scrooge McDuck. That seems more probable, to be honest.
Where do you want me to put this tree trunk? Juan gives me a wondering look. He’s holding a huge slice of tree as if it’s no heavier than a baby mouse. I still spot the blue veins in his flexed biceps, though.
I rub my sore back. Turns out you should spend more time lugging Olympic-grade weight plates before qualifying for two thousand pounds of wood.
Okay, maybe it’s not actually two thousand pounds, but it’s definitely enough to leave the heavy-object-lugging to people who spend a little more time at the gym than I do.
I point at the restaurant, where another one of Mia’s friends, Felix, is hard at work sanding and staining the tree trunk slices.
Sofía, also a friend, is unscrewing metal legs from tabletops.
She has already produced quite an impressive pile of metal, stopping once in a while to wipe the sweat from her forehead.
I watch as Juan hauls the slab of tree inside.
He took off his shirt earlier and his back muscles are flexed tightly under his suntanned skin.
His worn jeans hang loosely from his hips and his butt looks like it’s seen an intense squat session or two.
Mia wasn’t lying when she told me he was hot.
His messy, dark blonde hair and baby blue eyes would elevate any red-blooded woman’s heart rate.
That said, he’s no Elias, but... Ugh! I silently tell myself off.
I need to stop obsessing about that stuck-up crook.
I’m interrupted by Beatriz who’s relaying new orders to Mia in an annoyed tone.
Three That’s Bananas, five of the Going Coconuts and four of the Mango No. 5.
Mia eagerly chucks fruit into blenders as Beatriz whines that her tray is getting too heavy to carry.
Ever hear about health and safety regulations? She rolls her shoulders, exaggerating the movement, then stretches out her arms. I could herniate a disc, you know.
Unblinking, Mia stares directly into one of the blenders and I can tell she’s starting to lose her cool. Beatriz is oblivious and takes a seat on one of the bar stools.
I mean, eleven drinks... That’s probably, like, fifteen pounds.
Mia bangs a smoothie down on the tray, orange liquid sloshing around inside the glass.
You’ll just have to make an extra trip, then, she bites out. If you’re not interested in doing the job you were hired to do, I won’t stop you from leaving. She plops a colourful little cocktail umbrella in each glass and hooks mango wedges onto the rims of the Mango No. 5s.
Beatriz mumbles something unintelligible, but otherwise keeps quiet.
Juan passes by again with a sexy smile on his face. He gives me a deliberate wink when he realizes I’m studying him. Weirdly, my cheeks don’t flush bright red and I manage to smile back like a normal human being with a functioning circulatory system.
Yesterday, Felix repainted the restaurant’s window frames, creating a much-improved impression for people passing along the main road. The walls could use some love and attention, too, but we just don’t have the time or money right now.
We’ve taken a pressure washer to the wooden boards that make up the patio flooring, then sanded and stained them.
The staircase that leads from the beach to the patio got the same luxury spa treatment.
The wood looks as good as new now, and the thatched roof lends a tropical vibe to the whole thing.
In each of the patio corners, the guys built some seating out of wooden pallets.
In my own attempts to wrangle the pallets into furniture shapes, I nearly screwed my thumb to the wood, so the seasoned carpenters jumped in and got it done in no time. Piece of cake.
I’m a firm believer in developing your natural talents and not dumping energy into things you’re terrible at, so Abuela and I made a run to IKEA to pick up some pillows and cushions.
I’m definitely more talented in the interior design department than the DIY department.
The oversized cushions are cream-coloured and create a beautiful contrast against the dark varnished wood.
We’ve artfully scattered throw pillows around the furniture and draped dark teal blankets over a few seat backs.
Even on warm summer days, the lower temperatures on the beach at night can cause a bit of a chill.
We finished a bunch of low tables earlier and placed them in the middle of the lounge areas. Once that was done, we spread out tea light holders across the table tops and hung lanterns from the cross-beams of the pergola above.
To liven things up a little in the lounge nooks, we also bought three large banana leaf plants to add to the décor.
Things are looking bright, cheerful, and stylish. And best of all, there’s a stunning view of a wide stretch of white sand and clear water. I can already picture the new lounge furniture packed with vacationers toasting to their few weeks of carefree summertime relaxation.
The tables are slowly starting to take up more patio real estate now.
All the chairs that used to be a variety of rainbow colours have been painted white and we’ve added a colourful cushion to each of them.
The menus are almost ready and we’ve installed large chalk boards on the walls where we can advertise our daily specials.
All these changes are starting to stir up some real excitement with Abuelo and Abuela. I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw them with smiles this big. It might be premature, but I feel a sense of triumph at how much we’ve accomplished in this short time.
When Beatriz walks her whiny self onto the patio again with a twenty-eight-drink order, I decide it’s time to grab an apron from the little hallway and lend a hand. It couldn’t hurt to brush up on my serving skills ahead of our opening night party for the renovated restaurant.