Bare In Bermuda (30 page)

“You sent daddy golfing with Eduardo right after telling him we're sleeping together,” she said.

“Good point,” Eden said. “Perhaps a touch evil of me, but ever so funny.” Eden smiled then leaned closer. “I want you to tell me the truth.”

“If I can,” she said.

“Does Eduardo have a massive cock?” Eden leaned back and held her hands about shoulder width apart. “Because Romeo...”

Of course. Only Eden. “I am not even—I'm just going to pretend you didn't ask me that. I'm just not—no.”

Eden laughed loudly as she sat back in her chair. “He does. He totally does. You're blushing. You never blush. I wonder if that's a genetic thing like brown hair.”

“You are such a child,” she said.

“I'm not. Just so you know, I do feel bad about Simon. I didn't know he liked me liked me.”

“Would it have made any difference?”

“I don't think so. I probably wouldn't have had sex with him in the rumpus room if I'd known. He's not a lousy lover. I don't know what you're talking about. He rocked my world.”

“I don't want to know,” she said.

“I really do feel bad for Esmeralda. She and Romeo were together for years. I'm threatened by her even though I shouldn't be. Sometimes that comes out as meanness.”

“He's marrying you. Not her.”

“Are you happy for me?”

“I am happy for you. I get why you've fallen for him. He's very handsome, and Latin men can be very seductive.”

“That they are.” Eden sighed.

“Maybe I'll try thinking with my heart rather than my head sometime in the future.”

“Really?” Eden asked, looking at her with pursed lips.

“Really,” she said. “I'm thirty-six years old. I'd like to get married and have a baby. Maybe I need to rethink the value of listening to my heart.”

Chapter Twelve

Henna swiped her key card and opened her hotel room door. The shower ran and a black Italian wool crepe suit lay draped over a chair. Eduardo had let himself into the room. After a moment’s reflection, she found she didn't mind his presumption. In fact, she rather liked the idea of his presence in her life.

A quick glance at her watch let her know she had about an hour to get dressed. Her hair, make-up, and nails were done. A distinct ringing noise came from her handbag as it gently flew from her hand to the chair she tossed it into.

“Simon,” she said, answering her phone.

“Hola.” He chuckled. “
Commo estas, chica
?”

“Do I have any privacy?” She sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes.

“None,” he said. “I called the bride to wish her all the best. Got an earful. So, everybody knows by the way. I was calling to give you a heads up.”

“I hate all of you,” she said.

“I’m done teasing you. Tell me about
abuelo
.”

She rolled her eyes slightly. “He's so…I don't know…nice.”

“Nice? I'm nice. Try again.”

“He's...” She sighed a little. “He's everything I've ever wanted in a man and never knew it. He's macho. I swear to god macho. Who would have thought I would like a guy who is macho. How crazy is that?”

“Pretty crazy but kind of awesome. The kind of men you usually go after never work out for you, so thinking out of the box might just be the way to go.”

She thought about that for a moment and had to nod in agreement. In the background on Simon's end, she heard the distinct sound of the hospital where they worked. “Are you at work?”

“Yes.” Simon's voice betrayed the level of irritation he was feeling. “They found out I didn't go to Bermuda.”

“How?”

“Well,” he said. “Waverly, after kicking me out of our apartment because the sight of me vomiting was just a touch too icky for her, decided the best way to really punish me for taking vacation days she didn't approve of was to call the maternity ward looking for me. She let them know I hadn't gone to Bermuda and that I was still in town. She claims I had my cellphone turned off and didn't know where to reach me, but I think she is just that diabolical.”

Say nothing! Simon had to make up his mind about Waverly on his own. The one time she'd stuck her nose in, she didn't speak to Simon except for professional nods at work for nearly a year. It wasn't worth losing her friend over Waverly. “Why are they calling you in?”

“Because they know I won't say no,” he said. “All your patients have popped. It's like an epidemic. The second you're gone...boom!”

“I owe you one,” she said.

“Actually, you owe me five,” he said. “But I'm not counting. Talk to me. I'm hanging around until patient number six is dilated another centimeter. If I go lay down, I'll never get up again.”

That she understood. She'd been where Simon was. One baby coming on top of the next and no chance to catch a nap. “What are your thoughts on destiny?”

“My, huh? Destiny? Are you kidding me?” Simon's voice was low and serious.

“I'm serious,” she said. “What do you think about destiny?”

“Okay,” Simon said. “I'm going to preface my comments by saying I've been up for twenty hours straight and I'm still not wholly recovered. Cool?”

“Cool,” she said. “Destiny. Thoughts?”

“I'll play along.” His tongue clicked a continent away. “Destiny. You mean like soul mates?”

“Sure,” she said. “Why not? Soul mates.”

“Crock of shit,” he said. “But I do believe in chemistry. I don't think people are destined to match up, but I think that there are some people you can simply have that magic
it
with.”

“
It
, like good chemistry?”

“Exactly. Look at us,” he said. “On paper, we're perfect for each other. We're intellectual equals, we have similar religious and socio-economic backgrounds, our interests and dislikes are compatible, but yet, we just never clicked emotionally or physically. I love you, but the sex was shit. I'm just going to assume you've improved in the past decade and leave it there.”

“You were no great shakes either,” she snipped. Should she tell him that Eden spoke highly of his skill as a lover? Probably a bad idea.

“So we're agreed. We just didn't have
it
in the sack.”

“Sex doesn't make a happy marriage.” Even as she said it, she knew how ridiculous her statement sounded. Good sex didn't necessarily make a great marriage, but it certainly helped when the going got tough.

“Really? Okay. Whatever. Moving on. Honestly, if we'd settled with each other, we probably would have been happy enough. But, being honest, we just didn't have it. You get what I'm saying?”

“I think I've got
it
with him,” she said. “I know how crazy this sounds, but he just makes me feel like no one has ever made me feel. Is that crazy?”

“Yes,” Simon said.

“Do you have
it
with Waverly?” She already knew he didn't. What Simon and Waverly had was so far from
it
, it was in another universe.

Simon snorted out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? No. I've given up on finding
it
and have turned to settling for someone that will have sex with me at least twice a month and toss me an extra one for my birthday.”

“Why don't you just end it with her?” She'd never asked the one question that was taboo in their friendship before. Waverly didn't like her and she didn't like Waverly. The one thing that made Simon's life a little less difficult where his girlfriend was concerned, was that his best friend never had an opinion about the woman he supposedly loved.

“Fear,” he said. “Who the hell else would put up with my life? Waverly is willing to put up with what it really means to be married to an obstetrician and not just the fantasy of being married to a doctor. In fact, I think she prefers my being exhausted most of the time. It makes me docile and easy to control.”

“Because this is what you want in a relationship.”

“Did you know we're getting married? She finally got me to agree to setting a date in exchange for letting me back into our apartment. Do you think I can hire eight men of a uniform height and build to be my groomsmen? I told her that you, Oliver, and my brothers would stand up for me, and she nearly kicked me out of the apartment again.”

“That's pathetic,” she said. Another taboo opinion, but the seal had been broken so there was no stopping her. “You are pathetic and I am pathetic.”

“Got it,” he said. “We are pathetic.”

“We are. My fear of being with the wrong person and your fear of being alone have turned us into a couple of people that make bad choices. I'm on the edge of being cat and coffee mug collector, and you're seriously considering marrying a woman who you don't like going home to. You know it won't last with Waverly. It can't.”

Simon just breathed silently on the other end of the line, letting her unload on him.

“If we continue on this path, in five years we're going to be living together eating frozen dinners on TV trays, and arguing over whether or not we watch
The Bachelor
or
Love Boat
reruns. That is what the future holds for us, and I don't know about you, but that scares the hell out of me.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” she said.

“Are you having some kind of mental breakdown?”

“Possibly,” she said. “I'm falling for this guy, and I've known him three days. That's insane. That's not me. That's someone else. I follow my dating plan. We haven't even had first date
casual lunch
or second date
fun yet still intellectually stimulating outing
. We skipped directly to post fifth date sex.”

“Okay,” Simon said. “First of all, I'd never argue with you about watching
The Bachelor
over
Love Boat
reruns because there is always an episode of
Star Trek
on somewhere, and if there isn't, I have them all on DVD. Second, I'm allergic to cats. Third, I think we'd be more take out people than frozen dinner people. Fourth, what exactly is a fun, yet still intellectually stimulating, outing? Have you ever really examined your dating plan and compared it constructively with how many repeat dates you've been on?”

“Well, a fun yet intellectually—”

“Stop talking,” Simon cut her off. “Please actually don't answer that. I remember our fun, yet intellectually stimulating date, and to this day, just the thought of Kabuki theater is enough to give me the chills. As for the mugs…I have no comment other than, you can never have too many of those big mugs like you get at Starbucks. Those are fantastic. Will you please just tell me what's really going on?”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked. “Why now and why like this am I finding someone who makes me feel the way he makes me feel?” The shower stopped running, followed by the sound of the shower door opening and closing.

“You want my advice or do you want to tell me what I know you want to hear?”

She thought for a moment. From the bathroom, she could hear the water running in the sink. “What do you think I want to hear?”

“Have a nice time in Bermuda,” he said. “Get to know
Senior Fantastico
, get his number and email address, and when you get back home to San Francisco and you've had some time for the dust to settle, you can examine thoroughly and completely what you truly were feeling. If it was nothing, you can forget about him until Eden has a baby and you all have to see each other at the next family gathering. If it might be something, give him a call and invite him for a brief weekend visit.”

“Okay,” she said. “What's your advice?”

“Go for it, Henna,” he said. “I've never heard you talk about any guy like you're talking about
Senior Fantastico
. Grab onto him and just hang on for the ride. Who knows? In three months, I might be going to your spontaneous wedding.”

“That will never happen,” she said. “What if it doesn't work out?”

“Shit doesn't work out all of the time,” he said. “You can't put your life on hold waiting around for a sure thing. I didn't and look where I wound up.” Simon had the decency to laugh at himself. “I hate my life sometimes. Anyhow, if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. Honestly, what could possibly happen that you couldn't get yourself out of with a Visa card and an American passport? Honestly?”

The bathroom door opened, and Eduardo walked into the room. The crisp white towel wrapped around his waist contrasted delightfully with his summer-bronzed skin. She looked at him and just wanted a piece.

“Normally, I'm sure, I'd probably be able to give you at least a dozen examples,” she said as her eyes tracked Eduardo.

“Try at least a hundred,” Simon said.

As Eduardo walked past her, she reached out and hooked a finger around the top of his towel, stopping him before he moved past her. He stopped and looked down at her briefly before bending down and dropping a kiss on her forehead.

“Eduardo's out of the shower,” she said. “I'll call you later.”

“You do that, pumpkin,” Simon laughed. “I love you. Make me proud and live a little. Don't worry about the minutia. Just have an adventure. Fall in love. Make me so jealous I actually get off my ass and do something about Waverly before I really do end up hiring eight guys to pretend to be my friends.”

“I think I will.” She said her goodbyes then tossed the phone in the chair.

“Your friend Simon?” Eduardo asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Jealous?”

“I'll admit it doesn't make me comfortable to know your best friend is a man,” he said. “Is he gay?”

“No,” she said. “I thought we already cleared all this up.”

“Why is he not in love with you?”

“Because,” she said, grabbing his towel and pulling it off. “You're my destiny.”

Eduardo turned to her, his semi-flaccid cock practically at eye level as she sat on the bed. Instead of just diving in with her mouth, she used her lips and peppered his lower abdomen with small kisses. She wrapped her arms around his body and sank her fingers into the smooth contours of his ass.

His skin smelled of the lime and vanilla shower gel he used and was still slightly damp from the shower. When his fingers went near her hair, she backed off. “Do not touch my hair. I just spent two hours getting it done.”

Eduardo pressed his lips together to prevent a smile, or worse laughter, from appearing. “Of course.” He understood. It was not the first time in his life he'd been warned to leave freshly coiffed hair alone. “I will keep my hands to myself.” To show his determination to be respectful of what two hours in a beauty parlor meant, he placed his hands behind his back.