Getaway Girlz (11 page)

They arrived at the bar and grabbed four stools together. “Round of margaritas
por favor
,” Lucy said to the bartender when he approached.

“Look.” Wendy pointed to the shelves of liquor bottles. “The only tequila up there is that Tiempo Loco stuff everyone keeps selling us.”

“I wonder if the whole town has ownership in it or something and that’s why they keep pushing it,” Vivian said.

As they waited for the bartender to serve their drinks they couldn’t help but notice and overhear the couple next to them talking, mostly because the couple was loud, but also because the woman was very animated, and sparkly.

They were quite the pair. He wore a shimmery, expensive-looking blue shirt, strategically buttoned to emphasize his gold chain and a thick tuft of salt-and-pepper chest hair. She was petite and younger by at least 20 years, and busted out of her hot pink, rhinestone-studded top. Her platinum-blonde hair had been mega-teased and must have been sprayed with industrial strength hair spray. It hardly moved in the ocean breeze, and when it did, it moved as one unit. The humidity held no challenge for that hair. Her lips and nails were the same shade of hot pink, and she was dripping in jewels — diamonds for every accessory: earrings, necklace, bracelet, rings.

Vivian couldn’t stop staring and figured she might as well make small talk with them when they paused for a breath.

“Hey! How are y’all tonight? Isn’t this hotel wonderful?”

“Oh yes, we love it here,” the woman answered.

Vivian then introduced herself and the girls.

The man spoke up, “How you ladies doin’? I’m Al Russo and this is my wife, Adrienne.” He started to keep going, but his phone buzzed. He glanced down at it, gave a smirk and said, “Gotta take this.”

“Nice to meet you,” Vivian called after him, then turned to Adrienne. “Y’all sound like you’re from Chicago, maybe?”

“Al’s third generation in Chicago, but I’m from New Orleans originally,” Adrienne said.

“I thought I heard a hint of Louisiana in your accent,” Vivian said.

“Give me a few more of these,” she said and held up her daiquiri, “and I’ll sound like I just stepped out of a cup of filé gumbo.”

“Oh, that’ll really throw the locals off.” Vivian laughed and then continued, “It’s so beautiful here, don’t you just want to live here?”

“Oh my god, Playa is fabulous!” Adrienne said. “I could live here permanently. Are you girls staying out of trouble down here?”

“Never! We bring trouble wherever we go!” Wendy said. “We practically swung ourselves into the oblivion at the Purple Peacock last night. Right, Lucy? Then we went to Jungle Fever and discoed the night away. We are having a blast.”

They proceeded to tell her about Lucy’s swing incident the night before, Vivian’s birthday serenade, the ever-so-gorgeous Pasqual and of course, soap-stud Jon.

“I think I’ve seen him now that you’ve described him. I didn’t know he was an actor. Al and I are down here taking a break from the family and the business,” Adrienne told them, “although Al can’t seem to tear himself away from his phone.” She used her hands as she spoke and the glare cast off her wedding ring blinded Vivian a few times.

“Damn, girl, that is quite the rock you’ve got there,” Vivian couldn’t help but say. She decided to be safe and put on her sunglasses.

Kate raised her eyebrows and said, “Which one? The earrings, necklace or wedding ring?”

“The ring,” Vivian answered.

“Oh honey, this is nothing,” Adrienne said. “I don’t like to be too flashy on vacation.”

Nothing
?
Her bling is blinding
! Vivian thought.

Al returned with his phone in his shirt pocket, which made it droop and expose even more chest hair. He said to the girls, “What are you ladies up to?”

They didn’t get a chance to respond because Adrienne replied, “They’re fabulous, and so much fun! They’ve been catching rays and catching men, all while catching a buzz.”

Al stepped back and ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, really?”

“We went deep sea fishing today, and I caught the big one,” Kate said. “It was huge and took me forever to get him in the boat.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard stories like that before,” Al said then raised his right arm as if to measure the length of a fish. “I caught one this big…”

“No, really, the chef is cooking the fish for us tonight and there will be plenty,” Kate said. “Y’all should join us.”

“Appetizer and sides included,” Wendy said. “It’s gonna be delicious.”

Adrienne looked at Al with a smile.

“Whatever you want, baby.” His shirt buzzed and he walked away to answer it. “Excuse me again, ladies.”

Adrienne rolled her eyes. She must have heard that a lot on this trip. “We’d love to join you for dinner,” she said to the girls. “Thanks for the invite. I could use some girl talk.”

They clinked glasses to that, chatted while they finished off their drinks, then walked to the hotel restaurant. It, too, was filled with tropical plants, but it wasn’t quite as jungle-y as the lobby. The walls were painted a light terra cotta, which reminded Vivian of Santa Fe. Very soothing.

The waiter arrived with a bottle of Champagne. He popped the cork and said, “Compliments of the man in the blue shirt.”

The waiter asked Adrienne how she and Al would like their fish prepared, then walked off without taking any other orders. No need as they knew what they were having.

The five girls raised their glasses to toast to new friends.

A few minutes later, Al returned and Vivian asked, “How long are y’all here?”

Al took a sip of champagne. “As long as it takes to relax.”

“Must be nice to have an open-ended vacation,” Wendy said. “I’m a mortgage loan originator and there’s no time for lunch some days, much less a vacation. This is the longest vacation I’ve had in four years.”

“What do you do for a living Al?” Kate helped herself to the just-delivered shrimp cocktail.

“I own an Italian restaurant in Chicago’s Little Italy neighborhood,” he said. “Family business. My Poppi opened it in the ’40s.”

“Best cannoli this side of the Atlantic.” Adrienne raised her glass to toast Al.

“So are y’all in the mob?” Lucy asked.

Kate nudged her. Lucy had seen too many episodes of
The Sopranos
.

Adrienne sucked in her breath but Al shook his head and said, “Nah, I try not to get involved in anything like that. I’m just a guy who owns a little Italian restaurant and goes to mass on Sunday.”

Adrienne coughed lightly and rolled her eyes.

Vivian didn’t quite believe Al’s story. Mass or not, he looked like he had a devilish side. To break the tension, she gestured with a shrimp, “Wow, this cocktail sauce is excellent.”

Al flagged down the waiter and ordered a bottle of Vouvray, Vivian’s all-time favorite white wine.

“So are you Cubs fans or White Sox fans,” Wendy asked, “and why does Chicago have two teams?”

“Sox fans all the way.” Adrienne held up her champagne glass as a toast. “There is no other team.”

Al’s face turned red at the mention of the Cubs. Okay, that discussion was closed. His phone rang, and he was off to answer it. Three rings in less than an hour.

What’s with that
?

“Al works really hard at the restaurant,” Adrienne said. “He came down here to relax but he’s been on the phone non-stop. That damn thing might as well be duct-taped to his face. I feel like tossing it in the ocean.”

“I understand how hard it can be to leave work behind and totally relax.” Wendy rolled her shoulders. “It must be hard for him to leave the restaurant in the hands of others while he’s away. Maybe you should try a couple’s massage?”

“He’s got his cousin running the restaurant and shouldn’t be worried about it,” Adrienne replied. “I already tried the couples massage, and he refused to turn his phone off. It rang twice and ruined my massage. Pisses me off.”

“The longer it takes him to relax the longer you get to stay in paradise,” Vivian reminded her.

“Cheers to that!” Adrienne held up her glass again.

Wendy excused herself, needing to powder her nose. As she left the restroom, she stopped to dig a pebble out of her sandal and overheard Al talking on the phone in the men’s room, in Spanish. “
Vamos a la fiesta de la noche del Viernes
.”

Wonder whose party he’s going to Friday night? Wendy thought as she walked back to the table.

“So Al can speak Spanish?” Wendy asked Adrienne as she sat down.

“No. He can barely manage ‘
hola
’,” Adrienne said.

Huh
, Wendy thought.
I thought that was Al’s Chicago accent mixed with Spanish, but maybe it was someone else I overheard
?

Al returned to the table just as the waiter arrived with the Vouvray.

He tasted the wine, nodded his approval then asked, “What are you ladies up to tonight?”

“A friend of ours suggested Club Caliente.” Vivian drained her champagne glass. “We wanted to go salsa dancing, and it’s supposed to be the best place in town. Y’all should join us.”

Al started to shake his head, but Adrienne said, “We’d love to. I don’t know how to salsa dance, but it sounds like fun!”

Al gave her a look so she put on her puppy dog face.

“Sounds like a plan then,” he said, giving in.

Vivian suggested a toast with the wine: “To spicy-hot salsa dancing
aye aye aye
!” Clink!

A swarm of servers removed their appetizer plates and delivered dinner. Everyone was quiet while they dug in. The fish was perfectly grilled, and the sides complimented it well. Vivian loved it in combination with the Vouvray.
This is hands down the best dinner I’ve had since I don’t know when. It’s not like Rick ever took me out for something like this
.

After they finished dinner the waiter offered soufflés for dessert. They couldn’t eat another bite so they politely declined.

As the group left for Club Caliente, Wendy saw a scowl cross Al’s face. She glanced over at the poolside bar and saw the creepy guy with the ponytail. He had a clear view of their table from where he sat. Wendy glanced at Al, their eyes locked for a moment but then he looked away.

THE GIRLS, Al and Adrienne strolled down the sandy streets of Playa del Carmen, making their way to Club Caliente. Children still played in the street, though it was well after dark. A few other tourists were out, in search of libations.

“So how did y’all meet?” Vivian asked Al and Adrienne.

“I was a Luvabull,” Adrienne began the story.

“A whattabull?”

“A Luvabull,” Adrienne said. “It was 15 years ago. I was a cheerleader for the Chicago Bulls, they’re called Luvabulls. Al is a huge Bulls fan so he hosted a charity event at his restaurant. The Luvabulls were the grand finale auction item. He bought me in the auction and we went on a date. I knew the first night he was
the one
.”

“He bought you in an auction?” Vivian asked.

“The single girls agreed to be auctioned off to the highest bidder for a date. All of the money went to charity so I agreed to be in it. It was the best decision of my life — I met my sweetheart.” She took his hand as they walked.

“I bet you cost him a pretty penny. What’d you go for?” Vivian asked.

“Viv!” Kate yelled at her. “That’s not nice.”

“It’s okay,” Adrienne said. “He bought me for $5,000, and I’m totally worth it!”

Al brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “You are worth it, baby,” then he let her hand go and smacked her ass.

“Trust me; he’s paid for a lot more over the years.” Adrienne not-so-subtlety adjusted her boobs.

They all laughed.

A few minutes later they arrived at Club Caliente and Vivian thought it was aptly named. It was just that,
hot
. The a/c was broken, non-existent, or they didn’t turn it on. Geez! The thick humidity turned Vivian’s hair into a frizz-ball and kicked her sweat glands into overdrive. No sweat circles, though, cuz she was spaghetti strappin’ it.

All of the people in the club looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine. Young, sexy, beautiful.
They must stay in shape walking up the gazillion stairs to get in here
, Vivian thought.

Though hot and humid inside, the music invigorated Vivian and made her want to dance, but she was nervous because she’d never been salsa dancing and was afraid it would be apparent.

Al grabbed a great table close to the dance floor and ordered a bottle of Champagne. The girls didn’t notice its arrival because they were mesmerized by the dancers, who looked like professionals. Vivian heard the pop of the cork and suddenly someone landed in her lap screaming, “Get down! Get down!”

Momentarily startled, but quickly recovered, Vivian found Arturo’s grinning face between her boobs.

“What, did it sound like a gunshot?” Vivian asked sarcastically.

He looked at her sheepishly and said, “False alarm.”

False alarm, my ass
.

Arturo looked pretty fantastic out of uniform. His jeans fit just right and his Guayabera showed off bulging biceps. His arms reminded Vivian of a boyfriend in college. Good memories flooded in.

She cracked a smile and was brought back to the present when Lucy introduced Arturo to Al and Adrienne. “I see you’ve got good instincts,” Al said to Arturo with a smirk. He looked at Vivian and said, “I think he just wanted to get a closer look at your ladies.”

Arturo grinned. “You can never be too careful.”

“You speak pretty good English,” Al said.

“I lived with my aunt in San Diego for four years when I was a kid,” Arturo answered. “And my English helps me get to know the ladies who vacation here.”

Lucy glanced toward the bar and smiled. “Well, well, looky who else is here.”

Vivian turned to see Jon and Pierre.
Speaking of nice bodies
!

“Those Canadians are totally stalking us,” Lucy said with a smile.

“I’ve seen them at the hotel,” Al said. “They’re hard to miss in those shirts.”