Chapter Two
Adrián
“Hey, are you coming through tonight?” Julín asked me. Damn, he was my best friend, but he could be annoying with the demands.
“Later, I’m picking up the Tropics’ job in ten minutes.” I attempted to say that with no inflection. Maybe it would spare me his comments on the matter.
“Ah, I see. So, you couldn’t call dispatch and ask them to pick her up, even though her usual pickup is at six, and it’s eight right now?” So, no chill. Alright. The suspicion in Julín’s voice didn’t faze me. Anytime I got remotely attached to someone, it raised Julín’s hackles. Let him think what he thought. I’d stopped having this particular conversation with him a while ago.
“Oh, so you’re just gonna ignore me? Instead of accepting this woman has you out here, doing transfers, which you said you didn’t want to do anymore now that we had enough drivers?”
The goal of reaching ten drivers for our little company had been arduous, two years in the making. Julín and I were now making enough money to pay the bills and our team. We still had time to be with our loved ones, which remained the company’s main objective. When we’d decided to do this together, I had been desperate to cut back on long hours and all the sacrifices that had cost me precious time now lost. So, Julín wasn’t wrong in calling me out, but his concern was misplaced. I never planned to let my career ambitions dictate my life ever again.
“What’s your point?”
“My point? What’s my point? I mean, I don’t know. I’m just saying you have the hots for her,” Julín said, sounding deflated.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t hidden my attraction for her, which is why I’m going to pick her up and take her home instead of calling dispatch.” Julín was well familiar with my admiration for Ms. Raymond. At first it had all been physical—a beautiful woman, tall, voluptuous, dark brown skin that glowed in the early morning light when I picked her up. Demure smile that transformed into a full leg-disabling grin whenever she was excited about a topic of conversation.
And did I mention her curves?
Have mercy.
Her innate elegance intrigued me because as the days passed, she opened up, and we started talking, I noticed a shyness that I never would have guessed existed. But that shyness dissipated as our conversation grew deeper, from trivial tips for Black people visiting the country, to intense discussions of the diaspora’s future, and how we could grow our communities and families to be strong and self-reliant.
Ms. Raymond was the type of woman who didn’t mince words, but had a deep understanding of their weight, so she deployed them with care. That spoke to me, to the person I strived to be. Care of your fellow person placed on the same level of importance as your own feelings was a rare sight.
“Damn, it’s not fun if you accept it.” Julín sighed. I stifled a laugh; Julín sounded as if I smacked an iced raspao out of his hand.
“I’ll come thru for dominos after I drop her off. It won’t take me more than thirty, forty minutes,” I said and heard Julín’s grumble.
“Don’t flake,” Julín warned.
“Never.”
Julín’s frustration wasn’t unprecedented. It was Friday night, and we didn’t need to be working right now. Based on my new philosophy in life, work was only a means for living. When the job became living, adjustments were required. So having to drive at eight at night on a Friday would be a sign for a quick adjustment, but not tonight.
Not this time.
I pulled up the fancy driveway of the new hotel, admiring the final project. Filled with pride, I studied the steel structure’s sleek lines with glass encasings forming an arch across the valet entrance. The overall design and structure were sound and gave a feel of opulence with a welcoming warmth that wasn’t supposed to work, but it did. With a sense of closure, I acknowledged things past and accomplishments deferred. This building was the last thing I’d designed before leaving a career that no longer served me to live the life I wanted to embrace.
The career that had given me the seed to rebuild my parents’ dying little hostel and our humble town. The career that had taken me away from my parents in the last years of their lives, with demands that now seemed insignificant.
Many would think me a fool for leaving a career just at the cusp of success. Many would think me irrational for putting the money I earned into my family’s guesthouse, which barely saw any guests, and rarely made any profit.
But I needed my family, friends, food, and a bed to rest my head at night. To be there to lend my hands and strength to my sister, brother-in-law, and their kids, to be there for my cousins and community as we fought to exist every day.
All those boxes were ticked.
Only one tick was missing, but I was a patient man. First, I needed to ensure I was whole before giving my heart to anyone.
When I had ambitions of my own, I’d lost myself, lost my sense of place and community. My reacquaintance with the person I’d become after losing my parents had been a slow, perfidious road, but I began to like who I saw in the mirror once more.
Shaking away thoughts of the past, I hopped out of the Escalade, gesturing to the approaching valet attendant.
“Yo! I’m just picking up a guest. Can I leave it here?”
“Dale, manito!” The driver dapped me up, smoothly taking the five I slid into his palm.
The brand-new hotel smelled of jasmine. The inside was equally stunning, and I loved what the interior designer had done with the beautiful murals depicting the fauna and flora of the country in patterns of blue, green, and white.
Resting along one of the entrance walls, I settled to wait. There hadn’t been a day that I’d picked up Genevieve Raymond from work and she’d been on time. In the morning, she’d been ready: usually outside the condo her company had arranged for her, waiting with her cell phone in hand, already working. But when the time to leave for the night arrived, it was as if she couldn’t detach herself from the building.
I didn’t envy her the position she was in. She’d explained the amount of work it took to open this building, to make it habitable, to train the team, to set the new procedures. Ms. Raymond took her work seriously and I profoundly admired that, but she also thought all of it fell on her. My familiarity with that belief ran deep, and I wish I could help her get rid of it.
I remembered similar occasions in my past, when leaving for the night was a struggle, and I ran my arm over my chest, glad for the sense of calmness that accompanied me.
That calmness dissipated the moment she descended the stairs.
Damn, she was stunning.
My stomach took a swan dive, and my heart raced faster than Julín in his Sunday night drag races. She wore her relaxed hair in a high ponytail, the silky strands bouncing side to side as she descended the steps. Her balance seemed off today. Usually, she emanated elegance and powerful strides, but she clutched the railing, gingerly taking each step as if afraid of falling. Her face, usually impassive, boasted a self-satisfied grin, and my breath hitched at the sight.
Damn, I loved seeing her this playful. But was Ms. Raymond tipsy?
She’d gone from a dreamy smile to a preoccupied scowl when her gaze met mine. It took everything out of me not to smirk.
Her lush lips parted, and the tip of her tongue touched her top lip adorned in a burgundy color to match the burgundy strapless cocktail dress she wore. She stole my breath; that tongue of hers long and dexterous. What would it be to taste those sweet lips?
Her dress deserved to be studied by scientists because of the mystery of how it could handle her abundant cleavage. The fabric wrapped perfectly over her thick hips and luscious legs, a slit showing some of her thigh. The slight hint of her belly underneath the silky dress made me ache to feel the combination of soft and compact strength of her. Some men would cower at the type of woman who exuded confidence and had a body to match. Tall, thick curves, with a deep brown complexion that still managed to flush dark when embarrassed, as it did now as I met her heated glance with a challenging stare.
Warning bells flashed, and I remembered I was working. My word and name were all I had. Pulling it together, I tempered my attraction.
“Buenas noches, Ms. Raymond.”
Her eyes fluttered, then she looked back at me with the same polite smile she’d given me every day of the four months she’d been in the country.
“Hola, Adrián, I’ve asked you so many times to call me Genevieve. Tonight is our last night. Can’t you grant me that gift?” She grinned, her stance fluid. The sound of her husky voice and how she pronounced my name produced images of sweaty nights and entangled legs. For tonight, I decided to lean into my attraction just a little, I had nothing to lose and a lasting memory to gain.
“Okay, Genevieve.” Saying her name did odd things to my insides.
Her toothy grin in response confirmed she was tipsy, and if I wasn’t a hundred percent certain, the fact she’d come down with no bag bolstered my assumption.
“Where’s your laptop bag?”
She turned around, searching behind her as if it would appear from thin air.
“Damn, I left it in the office. I don’t really want to go back to get it. I’m tired,” she complained and shifted back and forth on her heels. If she were mine to care for, I’d remove her heels and carry her to the car. But she wasn’t mine.
“I can get it for you and drop it off tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t ask that of you. Tonight is the last night.” She waved her hand haphazardly, the reminder that I wouldn’t see Genevieve Raymond again souring my mood.
“I know, but I can do a solid for you.” I shrugged, stepping aside so she could lead the way.
The balmy air engulfed us in the humidity of the night. I wished this was a date instead of me taking her to her apartment. Opening the door, I waited until she entered the SUV, her sweet and spicy scent, mixed with the smell of alcohol, lingering around her as I closed the door gently.
The drive to Costa del Este, the condo’s location, was a short one at this time of the night. We were uncharacteristically quiet on the ride home—no exchange of anecdotes or recounts of the day. No questions from her about today’s local news, or how my day went. No signs of our easy banter. A silence eerily like the first day surrounded us, making my stomach knot in protest.
I’d only known this woman for four months, and the knowledge was superficial at best, but the ache in my chest as we approached our goodbyes didn’t sit well. The urge to say something to her, to prolong our time together, ate me up inside, but I wasn’t certain what I could say to change this situation. Genevieve had a life in the US, and I had a life here. On top of that, our aims weren’t compatible. Genevieve had a long-term career plan that would put me too close to the type of goals I’d eschewed for myself and didn’t plan to ever retake. And of course, there was my family. There was always my family.
“I’m going to miss riding with you,” she whispered in the quiet car as we arrived at her building. Her sadness punched me in the gut.
“I told you I’ll bring the computer for you tomorrow morning, so you don’t have to go out before your flight.”
“Oh, I’m not flying away yet... I’m leaving tomorrow for Colón for a two-week vacation.” Her words ignited a spark of hope.
“Really? Where in Colón?”
“A bed-and-breakfast. Anita, the general manager at the Tropics, recommended it. She knows the owner. It’s in Aguaimar?” She said, taking care to enunciate the town.
Aguimar? Home?
My heart skipped a beat at the news, but I held my peace for now. Just because she planned to visit my hometown didn’t mean she would want to spend time with me.
“Aguaimar is beautiful. I’m sure you’ll be able to relax there,” I said instead.
“Really? Oh good,” she said in a dreamy voice. “Well, I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” Soft lips pressed against my cheek, the scent of her so close making my mouth water. She’d crept up, sneaking between the passenger and driver seat, to press the chaste kiss. There was nothing chaste about the way my body reacted to her. Everything told me to whip around and crash my lips with hers.
Then I remembered this was work.
“Do you want me to leave the computer bag downstairs with the receptionist?” I asked, with no hope of my pulse slowing down, giving her an out but hoping for the best.
“No, I want to see you again, give you a proper hug. I’m really going to miss you, Adrián.” The husky words crashed into me, disturbing my equilibrium, even though she’d whispered them.
“Okay, I will see you tomorrow.” I cleared my throat to get out the words.
“See you tomorrow.”
Before she could exit, I jumped out of the car and opened the door for her. The swing of her hips acted as a pendulum on a clock until the glass door closed behind her, dislodging me from my trance.
I had less than twelve hours to figure out how to insinuate myself in Genevieve’s plans for her last two weeks in the country. We might not have a long-term future together, but we certainly could explore a short-term one. People like Gen came only a few times in life and I’d learned the hard way not to ever waste those moments.
I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by.