King Solomon's Journey (The Dominguez Adventures) (37 page)

BOOK: King Solomon's Journey (The Dominguez Adventures)
10.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

            “Figure it out, you thick-headed man. This is how we will go to Miami, safer and smarter. After that, you are more than welcome to manhandle me, because I liked it.” She went out of the room.

            “Amanda, where are you going?” She turned around.

            “You see, there is this man, he and I have a thing going. Each evening he brings me a bottle of wine without glasses, and we take a few drinks. Sometimes, we drink it all. Sometimes, we do not.

            You see, it does not matter. We are free to do it, because we like it. Anyway, he must have forgotten, so tonight I am going to bring it to him."  She left.

            Antonio rubbed his head again. Damn, she always did this to him. She was the reckless one. How did it always come out the other way around?

            He thought. Wait, she knows she’s reckless, she also knows I’m not as reckless as she is. Outsmart them, because we are not staying home.

            He rang Ruger.

            “I need to talk to you.”

            “Be right there, Antonio.”

            Down in the kitchen, Amanda was busy screwing-up the cork of a wine bottle. He took the bottle from her by the neck, and opened it. Throwing back a drink, he handed the bottle back to her.

            “Amanda, you’re not entirely dressed. Go upstairs and wait for me. Ruger is coming and I need to talk to him.” He was back to being direct.

            She took the bottle and went to wait on him.

            The box. She had almost forgotten. She went to the closet and grabbed the box she had hidden. Spotting the garment bag with his tuxedo for the party, she tucked the little box in one of the pockets. Aaron’s blessing, an appropriate token for the circumstances he faced in Miami.

           

 

 

 

 

Chapter 40

"Do not assume that she who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. Her life may also have much sadness and difficulty that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, she would never have been able to find these words."

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

 

            “Amanda, what is a Monatomic State?”

            “It is equal to the male combined with the female, in a third state.”

            It was afternoon, and tomorrow they would catch a plane to Miami. Finishing this document proved a huge feat, but the paper’s end was in sight. Their purpose to establish King Solomon’s credibility was only a small piece of the journey that spread before them.

With the office full of work clutter, Antonio attempted to put away the previously used materials.

            His phone rang.

            “José.”

            “Good, I understand…  I remembered Rosie’s fiesta de quince is in a couple of days…”

            “You should give that your attention…  José, we’re fine, Ruger is going to stay in the guest house.”

            “José, I’ll talk to you after you’re finished with Rosie’s party…  Give her my love.”

            “I know I should be there, but Pop...I don’t think…José he doesn’t want to see me.”

            “He would call if he did.”

            “José, have a great time.”

            He hung up. Amanda wrapped her arms around his waist.

            “Amanda, I didn’t see you.”

            “That had to be a strange call, knowing we are leaving in the morning to see him. All the while, he’s harboring a secret irritation because he thinks you won’t be at Rosie’s party.”

            “Yep, I almost felt guilty.”

            “I am so excited for you, Antonio, I’m about to bust.”

            “As long as you are with me, I’ll do it. I’m not sure what I would do if you weren’t going with me.”

            “I am, so it doesn’t matter. What is Maria doing in the guest house?”

            “Getting it ready for Ruger, and anyone else this project draws in for an overnighter.”

            He glanced at her. She was in a short cotton skirt with grey horizontal zebra-stripes, and a long shirt in matching gray. Her legs down to her feet were all bare. It was a nice switch from her normal hobo-style of comfy clothes. They had work to do here, yet still, he messed with her for a minute. Picking her up, he sat her on his desk.

            “Amanda, they are going to love you.”

            “Antonio, it’s not about me, I’m the back ground this time.” Leaned over, she kissed him. He began to get nervous, she reassured him. “Antonio, listen to me. I am telling you the truth. No matter what happens we are together, I will be there for you.”

            “Amanda...”

            “I’m not finished talking. You are a strong successful man with no reason for shame from your family, including your father. No one has a reason to punish you. I am not sure it is necessary that you apologize for anything. You have done what you left to do, fifteen years ago.” His kisses covered her face.

            “Your Pop will see a man stand where a boy once stood. For a moment, his aching heart will welcome pride. He will see that the man is everything, and more than a father would ever want in a son.

            Now they both shared misty eyes. “Your father will see a strong, masculine man - beautiful outside, and more beautiful inside. He will think, this man is a stranger to me, until he touches you and realizes, he will say, ‘You fool, this man is your son, the son I loved to the point it hurt…it hurt a lot of people. Today, I am given a second chance with my son’.”

She took a breath.

            “He will want that second chance, Antonio, I promise.” He buried his face in her chest.    “You know what hurts me?”

            “What, Sohu?”

            “I will never make you a father.”

            “I made all of my own choices earlier in life. I’m happy with you, and it’s better than having a kid I never see because I didn’t love his mother enough to be his dad.”

 

 

 

Chapter 41

“You can't wring your hands and roll up your sleeves at the same time.”

— Pat Schroeder

 

            Antonio stood and watched Amanda; she was awed by the beauty of the Art Deco architecture that lined Ocean Drive in front of the Savoy Hotel. From the shining chrome trim around the Savoy's overhang, to the waves and straight lines that added a touch of classic elegance to its front view, the lovely old hotel carried on the tradition of elegance from the past.

            “Amanda, you’re in the Art Deco capital of the world, South Beach.”

            “I love Art Deco...” She was amazed.

            “Right here is the world’s largest collection of streamlined modern architecture.”

            “Really, in Miami?”

            “South Beach.”

            “Wow, I did not know that.”

            Antonio had canceled all of their previous reservations. They changed everything at the last minute. There was a man on them constantly, and it wasn’t always the same one. Caution was important, especially after the intruder incident at the estate.

            They had scheduled a later flight. Instead, they rushed to an earlier one. Antonio switched hotels. He claimed that they would, at least, stay at a hotel Amanda would love. It wasn’t his first choice, but it qualified as unpredictable.

            With stalkers on their tail, Antonio declared they would make a habit of being erratic.

Now, they were on Ocean Drive in South Beach, trendy with a capital T.

            “Antonio, I cannot fathom growing up in this place.”

            “It’s changed a lot since I left. Actually, I haven’t lived here since about 1981. This was a retirement area, with some poor crime-ridden sections.”

            “I see. I have stayed on the Biscayne side.”

            “You’re in for a real treat.”

            “I love Miami, except for the humidity. It leaves me unable to breathe for 24 hours after I get here.”

            “The humidity even bothers me, after living so long in New Mexico.”

            “Amanda, not far from here, is a restaurant with one of the best chefs in the world, the Ola. I’m taking you there tonight. They use top quality food. I’m sure it’s chemical and hormone free. Okay? Trust me.”

            “I trust you.”

“If you eat there, afterwards, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

            “Is that a bribe?”

            “You bet.”

            The Savoy was a time tunnel that walked you back into the 1920’s, when things were good. Antonio was right. It was a splendid example of Art Deco design with a strong European influence. The lobby furniture possessed true style from the era, with the use of black, white, and beige. The designs had clean straight lines. The atmosphere emanated a happy and uncomplicated time. It was Zen style, with flair.

            Antonio had secured a suite with an ocean view. As they stood side by side gazing down over the rear of the hotel, the pristine blue of the water was accented perfectly by a strip of pure white sand.

            Amanda spotted the pool, "Antonio, even the pool is a work of art.”

            “It’s spectacular. Not exactly a lap pool, but a nice freeform design.”

            The bed was all fluffy, with layers upon layers of white cotton linens. Nice terracotta tile floors, another glimpse into the past...

            Amanda stood on the balcony and surveyed the surroundings, as Antonio left to answer the phone. She heard him say; "I'll be right down."

            “What is it, Antonio?”

            “You’ll see. I’ll be right back.”

            Antonio walked down to meet the guy Ruger had assigned to deliver the pistol. Ruger had them put the pistol in the bottom of a sack full of damn organic yogurt. The guy passed Antonio the bag.

            “Hey man, thanks.”

            “You bet.”

            Amanda was busy, arranging her things when Antonio returned with the yogurt.

            “Here, catch this.” He threw her a container of yogurt, before putting the rest in the fridge. The pistol was at the bottom of the brown bag. With the bag crunched up around the pistol and Amanda busy eating yogurt, he went into the bathroom to hide the pistol. She started to talk to him from the other room.

            “Antonio, you are so sweet to be concerned about my yogurt. I cannot imagine how you thought to have it delivered right when we got here.”

            “Antonio, please come here.”

            Her face flushed from her obvious embarrassment over a question she wanted to ask.

            “I despise sounding precocious, but it seems I will anyway. Do you have any clout around this town?”

             “Amanda, I’m shocked. This is way out of character. Why in the world would you be interested in such a superficial social element? A concept that is responsible for defiling human relationships everywhere.” It was hard not to laugh. Anxious, he waited for her reason.

            “I wanted you to take me to a popular spot in South Beach. It is next to impossible to gain entry unless you are...”

            “Are you going to finish?” She shook her head no.

            He continued the game. “Let me see, Amanda. Oh, wait. I can’t answer. You haven’t given me the name of this Social Hot Spot.” His tone intentionally radiated with a dramatic sarcasm.

            “The Florida Room.”

            “You said, The Florida Room, what happens if I escort you to this prestigious scene?”

             “Antonio, I want to experience once, the sight and sound of a transparent grand piano.”

            “Damn it, Amanda! You love piano music and forgot to tell me?” The issue ignited a temporary change in his demeanor. Her failure to inform him of things she valued or enjoyed annoyed the hell out of him. Getting her to ask for something was like pulling teeth.

            “Should I plead the fifth?” The sound of her voice was sheepish.

            “If you know what’s best for you. I hate it when you sandbag.”

            “Antonio, I did not know we were playing a game.”

            “The price is getting higher, Amanda.”

            “I will be indebted to you.”

            “Good!”

            Antonio scanned through his cell phone directory for the number. He needed to give her the night she wanted. The phone number he required had sure as hell better be in his phone. It was necessary after the ordeal he played out with Amanda. Without it, he would feel like an arrogant ass. Finally, he located it and pressed send. 

            “Hey Lenny...This is Antonio Dominguez.

            “Great…You …I’m in town for the weekend.”

            “Listen, I need a favor. There is someone I want to bring down tonight and I would appreciate your placing my name on the list.” Amanda wanted to punch him. The expression on her face was amusing.

            “Two.”

            “Funny, Lenny. Yes, I am bringing a woman. I know it’s taken a long time.”

            “That’s enough Lenny. It’s not that hilarious…  Thanks man.” He hung up.

            Caught up in the plans, he went over to the closet to retrieve the dress he wanted her to wear. “This dress will be perfect for your reflection in a transparent grand piano.” His laugh was light and easy, and it thrilled Amanda to hear it.

            The short, strapless brown dress with large, geometric circles in dark-turquoise and varied shades of brown would reveal a desirable amount of her flesh.

 

 

Chapter 42

“We ought to dance with rapture that we might be alive... and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.”

— D.H. Lawrence

 

            Antonio was right. The Ola restaurant was fantastic. It may have rated as Amanda’s best dining experiences ever. Antonio was happy to eat a traditional meal in a real restaurant.

            As they left, Amanda held Antonio’s arm and leaned towards him with a proclamation.    “Antonio, Chef Rodriguez has created a Monatomic State.”

Other books

Let It Snow by Suzan Butler, Emily Ryan-Davis, Cari Quinn, Vivienne Westlake, Sadie Haller, Holley Trent
ReCAP: A NORMAL Novella by Danielle Pearl
Swords From the Sea by Harold Lamb
The Complete Dramatic Works by Samuel Beckett
Pray for the Prey by Saxon Andrew
Alive by Chandler Baker
Death Was the Other Woman by Linda L. Richards
With Heart to Hear by Frankie Robertson