Heartbreak for Dinner: It's Kind of a Long Story (8 page)

“Where did he get that long napkin from?” Adam mused.

I shrugged my shoulders and set my drink down, walking up to Teeko
and managing to snatch a piece of it from him. Only what I held in my hand a second
later wasn’t a napkin at all.

“Come here, little animal,” I said sweetly while my pounding
heart raced a mile a minute as everything came back to me. I went back to the kitchen
“for some water” and once behind the counter felt between my legs only to find no
consolation whatsoever. The toilet paper I’d used the night before must have fallen
out at some point and Teeko picked it up. I grabbed a real napkin and placed it
securely
you-know-where
to stop any bleeding when I heard Adam in the background
trying to play fetch with the dog. I quickly returned to the living room with a
smile. Maybe my hyperactive imagination was playing tricks on me but when I sat
back down on the couch, the dog was looking at me like this:

“There,” Adam startled me from my mental showdown with Teeko.
“I got it.”

I sat there, paralyzed in a state of fear and disgust for two seconds
as I saw him holding the toilet paper stained with my blood in his hand.

“I’ll throw it away!” I shrieked, quickly snatching away the paper
and holding back the imminent urge to vomit. “You should probably go wash your hands,”
I suggested, hoping to distract him from my manic behavior by saying something that
made sense. “God knows where he got that thing from.”

“It had some red stuff on it,” Adam mused and gave me an odd look,
which I would later interpret as
This bitch is crazy
when he never called
me again.

“Probably ketchup or hot sauce from those hot dogs Phillip was eating,”
I nervously replied.

He nodded and got up to wash his hands in the bathroom. I finished
my mimosa in two gulps and didn’t even bother to put on pants as I grabbed my purse
from Vera’s room and high-tailed it to my car before he came back out. I sent Adam
a text explaining my parents needed me urgently for a New Year’s brunch and I’d
call him that night. Later on I realized you can’t really have brunch with your
parents when they’re in another country, a fact I’m sure didn’t escape him, not
only classifying me as possibly bipolar, but a compulsive liar as well. It was then
I discovered that taking out one nail with another only works when you feel exactly
the same about both nails (totally and completely indifferent). Forgetting about
someone you love is a bit messier, even bloody sometimes.

That night I resumed my secure position on the couch after that bloody
incident with the only being I knew wouldn’t judge me. Partly because he was old
and ridden with Alzheimer’s. Partly because he ate his own poop and sometimes fell
asleep standing up. Mostly, because he only had one eye and it was ridden with glaucoma,
so even if I
did
do something horrific, he’d be completely oblivious to it.

And
that
is the meaning of true love, boys and girls: complete
and utter oblivion.

I woke up that morning to vague recollections
of
Olivia going with Jonah back to his hotel after we’d left La Kapital sometime after
seven. I’d waved them off at the entrance to the Westin Palace clutching my purse
in one hand and my heart in the other. There was no discernible reason for the sinking
feeling in my stomach and inability to move, except I knew in just a matter of hours
that meeting Jonah had shifted something from within that could never be reversed.
I recall having ordered room service comprised of toast and fresh juice but when
I woke to soft footsteps and whispering down the hall of our room, I looked to my
left to find it all on a tray, untouched.

“I feel really awkward about this,” I heard a male voice tentatively
say. “I kind of get this feeling I’m not her favorite person, so you should probably
ask her.”

“Annah’s cool,” Olivia replied dismissively to whomever had spoken.
“I already told you she won’t care.”

I brushed my hair out of my face and covered my naked body with sheets
as I pretended to be asleep and steps neared my bed. Olivia shook me softly and
I did my best to feign exhaustion. When I opened my eyes, she was sitting next to
me while Jonah stood in a corner looking uneasy, a bag in his hand.

“Babe,” she said to me and grabbed my hand. “Jonah’s going to stay
with us for the remainder of the trip, okay?”

“Why?” I asked to her surprised face and I heard him sigh loudly.

“Because I want him to,” she pinched my arm so I wouldn’t say another
word in protest. “It’s only two days anyway, and it’ll be more fun that way.”

I inhaled deeply and mentally convinced myself I could handle the
situation in spite of my gut telling me otherwise. “Welcome, Jonah,” I said to him
as warmly as I could muster with a smile, but when he nodded in my direction and
remained silent, my heart told me I’d made a huge mistake by agreeing.

The next 12 hours were a whirlwind of tapas and museums held
together by copious amounts of wine that killed all awkwardness between us, bringing
three strangers closer than best friends at fat camp during summer. As promised,
I pushed past my feelings for Jonah and resolved to enjoy my time left in the eternal
city of sunshine and discovery that is Madrid. Between the art and food and perfect
weather, I was intoxicated with happiness by the time we reached our hotel that
balmy night. It was evident we’d never see each other again once we parted ways,
and that was a fact that brought some sense of peace to my otherwise conflicted
soul. Youth was the only thing that clung to us, and everything else slipped away
quickly in dismissive bursts one only possesses when they’re on hiatus from reality.
I’d just returned to our room from the spa when I saw a note on the bed that read,
“At the rooftop bar with Jonah. Get ready and meet us there.”

I must have fallen asleep while in the bathtub because the next thing
I remember was the piercing sound of the old rotary phone in our room resuscitating
me back to life.

“Hello,” I answered while dripping water and soap on the plush rug.

“Where the fuck are you?” Olivia hissed frantically. “We’ve been waiting
for 45 minutes.”

“I completely dozed off,” I admitted. “Be there in 20.”

The slamming of the phone marked the beginning of my race to look
beautiful in just 1200 seconds. I chose a fuchsia pleated dress that tied around
the neck as my outfit, which contrasted beautifully with my brunette locks. I paired
it with silver heels that boosted me up to six feet and accessorized with rhinestone
earrings and a matching bracelet. When the whole look came together and I looked
in the mirror, a proud woman in the making stared back at me. I finished the champagne
I’d been sipping in the tub, stuffed all my belongings in a sparkly clutch, and
was just about ready to go when the phone rang again.

“I’m coming, God damn it,” I answered as soon I picked up.

“Um, hello?” Someone cleared their throat on the other end.

“Hello,” I retracted in embarrassment. “Who is this?”

There was hesitation before the male voice finally spoke, “This is
Gabriel. Is Annah available, please?”

I pondered for a moment if I could pretend to be someone else and
then change my voice, but figured that entailed too much work and a level of sobriety
I likely didn’t possess at the moment. Gabriel was a Spanish guy I’d met the night
before at La Kapital while attempting to get a drink and stepping on his foot by
mistake. We’d danced for most of the night while Olivia clung to Jonah. I’d given
him my room number as an attempt to be courteous, not thinking he’d actually use
it to locate me. Apparently we’d made plans to meet that night at a Spanish club
that played salsa music, and he was calling to ensure plans hadn’t changed.

“Of course we’re still on,” I said enthusiastically, even though I’d
completely forgotten about my handsome Spanish stranger. “I’ll see you at Azucar
in a couple of hours.”

“
Estupendo
,” he beamed. “Kisses.”

When I arrived at the lounge, the hostess directed me to another
space separate from the restaurant. The Asia Gallery bar is one of those places
that looks like a cigar room straight out of the Titanic. The décor is what I like
to call old school rich, with leather chairs surrounding mahogany tables and a fake
fireplace off to the side. The lighting is low and sexy, transporting its patrons
back to a time when people actually took pride in the way they looked, men wearing
suits and women in dresses that weren’t made of raggedy cotton. I caught sight of
Olivia and Jonah sitting at one of the round tables by the fireplace and walked
over to them with measured breaths. When Jonah spotted me, he immediately sat straight.
I was expecting another one of his glares but instead received a smile as he motioned
to an empty chair at the table.

“What are you drinking?” he asked as I took my seat.

“Vodka tonic, please.”

He got up and went to the bar, leaving me and Olivia to gossip excitedly.

“Oh my God, he’s so hot I don’t know what to do with myself,” Olivia
gushed as soon as he was out of earshot.

“He’s cute,” I said half-heartedly, and Olivia handed me a strange
look.

Jonah came back with my vodka tonic and another drink for himself.
He sat down next to Olivia and slid my cocktail across the table. I’d never felt
a gravitational pull as powerful as the proximity to his presence, and in spite
of his obvious beauty, it was evident my interest extended to something far beyond
the physical. I wanted to ask a million questions in a matter of seconds. How old
was he? Where was he originally from? Did he like children and how many did he want
to have? Did he prefer the missionary position or girl on top? I chuckled lightly
at my foolish thoughts as Olivia and Jonah looked at me, puzzled expressions on
both their faces.

“Are you drunk already?” Olivia teased me across the table.

“No,” I giggled. “I was simply remembering something. So Jonah,” I
turned to him and changed the subject, “tell us about yourself.”

“What is it that you want to know?” he looked at me, a flirtatious
stare that made my heart bounce to the moon and back.

“You know, the usual stuff. Where are you from, what do you do, yada
yada yada,” I said casually, hoping he didn’t realize how incredibly intrigued I
was.

“Well,” he began, “my name is Jonah Hunter. I am 25 and a Libra. I
like long walks on the beach and candle lit dinners . . .”

“Fine,” I frowned at him and pretended to examine my nails. “Mock
me all you want.”

“Alright, seriously. I’m 25 and from Texas, born and raised. I have
two brothers and a sister. Uh,” he searched for other things to say. “I don’t like
watching sports, but I like to play ‘em. I’ve been here for almost a month now,
doing the whole Europe thing for the first time. I earn a living on the family business,
but that’s boring and I don’t want to talk about it. Asides from that, nothing else
to say, really. Just a good ol’ country boy.” He flashed me a boyish smile and at
that moment, I knew.

“So who do you live with over there?” I asked.

“I use to live with my girlfriend, but we broke up a year ago, so
now it’s just me and my dog, Rex,” he replied and seemed wistful for a moment. “What
about you, Miss Know-It-All. What’s your story?”

Being that I was unemployed and single, I didn’t have much to contribute
in the way of conversation, yet Jonah kept firing questions at me as Olivia looked
on, a reflective look in her eyes. I was sure they’d already gotten to know each
other during the day, yet I still felt uncomfortable being in the hot seat. The
questions came one after the other:
Where did I live and with whom? Did I have
any siblings or pets? What did I want to do now that I had lost my job? How come
I gave up on the idea of a master’s degree?
I didn’t really understand why he
cared as he hung on to my every word, laughing at my jokes and idiotic answers.
After about five minutes of that I felt self-conscious, while Olivia tapped her
heel impatiently on the marble floor.

“We should go,” I offered, getting up from my chair. “I’ll get the
tab.”

“It’s already paid for,” said Jonah, and we all got up to head for
the first floor. After about five minutes of frantically waving our arms at passing
taxis, we finally caught one.

“Azucar,” I told the driver as I sat in the front seat. He nodded
and drove off in silence.

“What does that mean?” Jonah asked.

“Sugar,” I turned around and winked at him as Olivia held on to his
hand tightly.

One hour later, we were all leaning against the bar at Azucar
sipping mojitos and immersing ourselves in the rhythm of the beats bouncing off
the speakers. For a moment, I forgot the electricity I felt from Jonah standing
next to me, and I allowed my eyes to follow the flawless salsa dancing happening
on the floor. I felt ashamed of calling myself a Cuban and not being able to dance
half as well as Europeans. A guy came up to us and stretched out his arm to me,
grabbing my free hand and gently pulling me toward the moving bodies. I felt Jonah
tense up to my right and shook my head no. I then turned to Jonah and playfully
tugged on his ear, making funny faces at him as he laughed good naturedly and took
out a cigarette. Just then I realized Olivia wasn’t around and inquired where she’d
gone.

“She’s at the bathroom,” he looked at me and I felt myself melting
slowly to a puddle of lust. “So I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he paused and leaned
closer so I could hear over the music. “Why is it that a girl like you has a huge
tattoo of a naked chick on her arm? You don’t exactly strike me as the trailer park
trash type,” he said as he looked at the tattoo in disapproval.

“It’s actually a naked Betty Boop,” I corrected him and chuckled,
enjoying his closeness more than I should have. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got all night,” he smiled coyly and leaned in closer.

“Well, it’s a fake,” I said, taking a step back. “I got it at a fair
with a friend right before coming to Spain. I’ve been meaning to get a real one,
but my parents would have a coronary. I actually find tattoos beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” he countered, taking my breath away. “You don’t
need any of that.”

A quiet despair brewed inside me as he smiled, his face proof that
God existed and heaven on earth was possible, even if only for a moment. If I stood
there transfixed for another second, I would not be held accountable for my actions.
I painfully tore my gaze away from his and looked toward the entrance, spotting
Gabriel walking through the door at that very moment. He looked dashing in slacks,
a button down shirt, and sports jacket. I smiled and waved my hands in the air so
he could see us. Jonah’s eyes followed my gaze and his smile immediately faded.

“What is
he
doing here?” he snapped, obviously annoyed.

“What do you mean? He’s my date.
I can’t be all alone while you and Olivia are honeymooning for the next two nights,
buddy,” I playfully teased him.

“I thought he was just a one night thing,” he took a drag from his
cigarette and looked at me expectantly.

“A one night thing?” I smirked. “There was no
thing,
Jonah.
We just danced.” Relief shone brightly in his eyes as he stood there, the smug look
in his face infuriating me to levels I didn’t think were possible. “But I can assure
you there’ll be more than dancing tonight,” I added defiantly as I left him fuming
at the bar and walked over to greet my date.