House of the Blue Sea (26 page)

As Mark moved toward the bar, he considered how best to greet her. Had he not recently become acquainted with the wretchedness of rejection, he might walk right up, wrap his arms around her from behind and plant a kiss on the tanned shoulder left exposed by her pale green dress.

“Señor Mark!” Arturo had spotted him. Sandra turned on her stool and smiled as he approached.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Not quite as demonstrative as his first idea but it would do. “I thought I might find you here,” he said.

“The bar right below my hotel room is a pretty safe bet.”

“True. So much for being the next Sherlock Holmes.” He took the stool beside her. “May I join you?”

“It seems you already have.”

He smiled at her without saying any more.

“A drink?” Arturo was still standing opposite them.

“Yes, please. I will have a beer—whatever is coldest.” He continued to look at Sandra.

“But, they are all cold ...”

Mark looked to Arturo. “Of course they are. Bring me a Sol, please.” Maybe the beer would help settle his nerves. “So, you have come back to us. How was your final day with Alejandro and his fine horses?”

“It was perfect, once my stalker cleared out.” Her expression was serious.

Mark felt his face flush.

“I’m teasing.” Sandra leaned toward him and placed a hand on his thigh, immediately pulling it back and reddening a little. “And did you get your new script?”

“No, not yet. Wednesday, I’m told. I’ll read you an excerpt over dinner.”

“A sneak preview. I feel special.”

“So you’re still coming to dinner then?”

“I am, and looking forward to it.” Her eyes reflected the tiny lights strung behind the bar.

He felt his face flush again. “Well, good then. So am I.” He took another drink.
Really Jeffery, try not to sound like a nervous school boy
.

Paul came through the swinging door from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist. “Ah, my two favourite customers!”

“I’ve heard you say that to every table in this room,” Sandra said.

“Perhaps yes, but not with such feeling as I did just now.” He put his hand to the left side of his chest and bowed.

“Oh please, Hutchings.” Mark snorted. “I feel as though I’m back in drama school.”

“Still in a fine mood, are we?” Paul leaned to Sandra as if in confidence. “You should have seen him last night, in here watching the door like a dog waiting for his master to come home, getting more and more bearish as the hours went by.” He flashed a smile at Mark.

“Mark, a bear? I can’t imagine. He seems quite pleasant this evening,” Sandra said.

“Ah, then perhaps what he was waiting on has finally arrived?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Mark asked. “The place does look rather busy tonight. I’m sure some of these other guests might enjoy a visit from their wonderfully entertaining host.”

“I’ll get to them. For the moment I think there’s more fun to be had here.” His eyes were bright as he leaned on the bar, settling in. “So, Sandra, I hear you had uninvited company while you were away on your little ranch sojourn? Did he manage to embarrass himself from the back of a horse? He is so very good at it.” Paul grinned at Mark.

“It was actually me who fell off my horse,” Sandra responded. “Mark rode quite well, even without his stunt double.”

Mark gave a nod of his head. “Why thank you, my lady.”

“I’m just thinking back to when he was working on
Jane Eyre
and the stories he told about having to work with the
monstrous
black horse that frightened the daylights out of him.” Paul was snickering.

“Mesrour,” Sandra said.

“Excuse me?” Paul asked.

“Mesrour, the name of Rochester’s horse in
Jane Eyre
. It was a fabulous animal they used in the series, but I can see how he might have been intimidating. They needed one with some size and fire to portray the horse according to Bronte’s description.”

There she was, going to his defense again. He wanted to kiss her. He watched her as she spoke, describing the horse during Rochester’s opening scene where it rears and he falls off. She was quite lovely. He couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought her average-looking. Her smile put creases at the corners of her mouth and her eyes that somehow made her whole face lift and brighten. The creases were a mark of age but on her they only seemed echoes of the many smiles that had come before this one.

“Isn’t that true, Jeffery?” Paul was speaking to him.

“Sorry. What?”

“That you turned down a part because it required a lot of ... equestrian activity.”

Mark was tiring of Paul’s efforts to embarrass him. “That is true, but I also turned it down because you were trying for the same part and I felt my declining would be best for our friendship.”

Paul’s smile faded.

“Is that true? You did that?” Sandra asked.

Mark continued to look at his friend. “I did, fool that I was in those days.” His bottle of Sol landed on the bar with a clunk, its fizzy contents climbing up the neck.

A minute of silence felt stretched into five. “Well ... I’m going to take a walk on the beach. Goodnight, gentlemen.” Sandra lifted her glass toward them and swallowed the last of her margarita. She slid off her stool and left the restaurant.

“Nicely done, old
friend
.” Mark said as he watched Sandra disappear into the night outside Pablo’s. “What the hell was that about?”

“Nothing. Just making conversation. Helping her get to know you.”

“By embarrassing me?”

“If need be,” Paul said.

“And what is it you think I’m up to with this woman?”

“I don’t think you’re
up to
anything, only that you’re good at hurting people, especially women, whether you intend to or not.”

“So that’s what you think of me, that I’m some insensitive lout who goes around stepping on the hearts of others.”

“Yes, but not because you are ill-intentioned—you’re just used to getting everything you want. I’m not sure you can appreciate something, or someone, of genuine value anymore.”

“Well, I know I’ve certainly come to appreciate the value of Sandra. I confess, I didn’t at first, she was simply a nice diversion, but that’s changed.” He looked down the neck of his beer bottle and sighed.

When he looked up, Paul was examining his face. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“I do indeed.” Mark nodded slowly. “I’m afraid I’m coming to understand all too well some of the characters I’ve played, the ones all muddled up over someone who seems less than interested.”

“Well, I’m enjoying this even more then. Mark Jeffery, arse over tip. How delightful.” Paul was grinning.

“You are a cruel man for one’s best friend, you do know that.” He pushed his empty bottle toward Paul. “I might as well have another beer.”

“Might I suggest a walk instead?”

“A walk?”

“Yes,” Paul inclined his head toward the entrance, “a walk. For such a worldly individual, you really are quite thick when it comes to matters of the heart. She’s probably not far off at this hour of the evening.”

“Right, good thought.” Mark stood. “Depending on how this goes, I may be back for that second beer very soon. I forgive you for being such a bastard.”

Paul laughed. “Go!”

***

T
he moon was three-quarters full and well above the horizon as Mark left Pablo’s behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the diminished light, he made out the shape of someone walking at the edge of the waves. As he got closer he could see she was holding her calf-length dress up above her knees, kicking the water out ahead of her as she walked. The splashes lit up like diamonds in the moonlight. She stopped walking and stood still as a wave rolled up her legs, climbing to just below the fabric of her dress. She’d seen him and started to move in his direction. When she reached dry sand she let her skirt fall back around her legs and waved.

As they approached one another, again he had that urge to take her in his arms.

“Hi,” she said when they were ten feet apart.

He stopped. “Hello.” It was like he had a scene from one of his romance movies playing over and over in his head, but the actors refused to follow the script.

“It’s tough to tell in this light but no bruises? No black eye? I thought your little chat with Paul might come to blows the way it was going.”

He snorted. “No, we got it sorted. We always do.”

“It seemed he was on a mission of mockery.”

“Good way to put it.”

“I hope it wasn’t on my account.”

“Well, it was.” He met her eyes, not sure how much to reveal. “But not to worry, we’ve come to an understanding.”

She waited but he didn’t know what else to say. What was he going to tell her, that he’d compared her to vanilla ice cream but changed his mind, or that Paul thought him destined to break her heart? There didn’t seem much he could share that wouldn’t extinguish the tiny flame he was doing his best to shelter.

“Care to join me for a walk in the waves?” she asked.

Mark looked down at his socks and shoes.

“Oh, don’t let those stop you. My shoes are back at the first palapa.”

“All right.” He bent down and pulled off his shoes and then his socks, stuffing the socks inside the empty loafers and rolling his pant legs up to just below the knees. “Shall we be off then?” He held his shoes in one hand and offered the other to Sandra.

She hesitated a moment but then accepted it. Her hand felt small and warm in his as they walked the edge of the waves without talking. There seemed so much to say and yet nothing that was ready to leave his lips. He turned his head to observe her walking alongside him, the moonlight casting a shadow over her down-turned face. Her full skirt had become a snug mini the way she had it pulled up around her thighs away from the rising and falling water. She looked up just then, directly at him, her expression difficult to read. He felt her hand loosen its grip for a moment before it tightened again.

He had to say something. “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing.” Not exactly profound or heartfelt but it would do.

Sandra ruffled the fabric of her bunched skirt forward and back. “Thank you. It’s nicer when it’s not balled up in my fist.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It certainly shows off your legs like that.”

She smiled and he was relieved. Good. She didn’t think he’d jumped from schoolboy to letch. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so careful of every word he uttered.

“Just don’t go tumbling off into the waves on me, as I know you’re inclined to do,” he said.

“True. Ian and Tormenta can both vouch for that.”

“Ian?”

“Oh, I surprised him with a dip in the ocean when we were out walking one night. I think he was worried I’d drown myself in my rather margarita’d state.” 

“Ah, I see. And he rescued you, no doubt?” Mark felt the muscles tighten around his jaw.

“He came out after me, but I wasn’t in need of rescuing. He was quite upset with me, actually.”

Mark had forgotten about Ian. Here he’d run off to Rancho Azteca worrying about the Mexican cowboy when there was someone right here in San Leandro that posed more of a threat. Alejandro was married, Ian wasn’t. 

“So. Ian. You’ve known him long?”

“Since my first trip to Baja. We’ve been keeping in touch ever since, and of course I see him here in the winter. He’s a good friend.”

“Seems to me he behaves like more than a friend.”
For God’s sake, Jeffery, try to maintain some dignity.
He’d never been the jealous sort and had no idea why it was happening to him now. What was it about this woman that brought out these ridiculous adolescent tendencies?

Sandra didn’t seem to notice. “Ian? No, he’s just a flirt. I’m far too blonde and Canadian for his tastes. He usually has a Mexican girlfriend, but not this year, for some reason.”

“Perhaps his interests have gone elsewhere.”

Sandra missed his meaning. “Possibly. He does seem to be focused on his songwriting at the moment. There’s a Canadian country singer who’s planning to record one of his songs. Did he tell you that?”

“No, but we’re not exactly mates.”

“Anyway, it could mean big things for his career. He seems to be more and more inclined to be at home these days so a steady stream of royalties would be a big help.”

“Is he planning to return to Canada?” Mark could hear the tightness in his own voice.

“I doubt it. He’s far too happy down here. And that, I completely understand. He was talking to me about buying property.”

“With him?”

Sandra stopped and looked at him. “No, of course not with me. I told you—he and I are just good friends.”

“So you keep saying.” He wasn’t caring anymore if she heard jealousy in his words.

She squeezed his hand and continued walking. “But I’m not interested in buying property in Mexico. I love my home and have no plans to move to Baja. Besides, how could I come here and not stay at Mar Azul?”

They continued on in silence until they were in front of the hotel. “Well, I have a painting to get to in the morning so I think I’m going to call it a night. Thank you for the walk.” She let go of his hand as they moved up the beach, smoothing the fabric of her dress down over her legs. When they reached the palapa, he sat down to brush the sand from his feet before putting on his socks and shoes. He stood and offered his arm and she put her hand through the triangle it made at his side, dangling her sandals from her free hand. They walked up the stairs past Pablo`s and stopped outside the entrance to the guest area.

Again, the movie played in his head, this time the goodnight kiss scene. Sandra pulled her arm from his and stepped toward the door. “So, good night then. I guess I’ll see you Wednesday for dinner.”

He wanted to move toward her but his feet refused to move; once again, the screenplay falling apart. “Yes, Wednesday.”
At least there’s that
, he thought, as she turned and disappeared into Mar Azul.

E
ven though it was feeling very much like a first date, something she’d been avoiding for years, Sandra was looking forward to dinner at Mark’s. Officially, it was payment of a debt, but she knew there was more to it than that, on both sides. She felt she’d crossed some sort of threshold when he’d offered his hand on the beach and she’d accepted. A man offering his arm seemed like chivalry, a hand felt intimate. And it had been nice, even romantic, walking hand-in-hand with him through the waves in the moonlight. She couldn’t deny it anymore; she was drawn to him and it wasn’t just a movie star crush. In fact, the more she got to know him, the more he became Mark the man instead of Mark Jeffery the actor. She was still feeling nervous about the evening, but mostly due to the date factor, not because of who or what he was in life.