White Lines II: Sunny: A Novel (30 page)

“Where can I get more?” Sunny asked.

The short one spoke now. “How much more?”

Sunny wanted a lot more. She would be in Acapulco for nine more long days. She wanted enough to last her the entire trip. “Five hundred, U.S.”

Both women gasped. The short one shook her head. “We don’t have that much.”

The taller one pulled out a pen and wrote down an address on a paper towel. “Call Miguel,” she said, pressing the paper towel into Sunny’s hand. “Tell him Estella sent you.”

Sunny thanked the two women and they left the bathroom. She took another snort of the coke, felt her senses come alive and then rejoined Malcolm at the bar. She kissed him long and full, and he smiled at her afterward.

“Let’s go,” she said to him. “I’m feeling frisky!”

They went back to their hotel room and spent the rest of the night disturbing the peace.

19

SECOND THOUGHTS

They slept late the next morning and made love yet again. Sunny was glad when Malcolm announced that he was going to play some golf. He invited her to come along, but she refused, saying that she intended to do some shopping.

“I have to bring back souvenirs for everyone. So while you’re golfing, I’ll go to Zocalo.” She saw the look of surprise on Malcolm’s face. “That’s the main square,” she clarified.

Malcolm smiled, impressed. “Somebody’s been reading the brochures, I see.”

Sunny nodded and gave him a wink. “Golfing takes the whole day, so go and enjoy yourself. But don’t come back all tired! I want to have more fun tonight!”

Malcolm was excited. He had heard so much about the splendid Pierre Marques course, designed in the seventies for a World Cup Tournament. He was an expert golfer, and was secretly relieved that Sunny—a novice—had opted not to join him this morning. He dressed, gave her a lingering kiss and then left.

As soon as he was gone, Sunny snorted the rest of the coke she’d gotten from the ladies at the club the night before, jumped in the shower (singing loudly), and threw on a vibrant pink Vintage sundress. She threw her hair into a hapless ponytail and went down to the gift shop in the lobby. She walked over to the section with toiletries and bought a straight razor—and threw in some shaving cream so as not to arouse suspicion. She paid for her items, then went outside and summoned a taxi to take her to the address the Latina had given her in the club the night before. The driver smiled and nodded quickly, and off they went.

They drove until the tourist-heavy part of town was behind them. Dense forest-like brush surrounded them as they rode down one dirt road after another. They passed through several shantytowns and suddenly Sunny was having second thoughts. Before she could change her mind, the driver slowed down and pulled up in front of a row of businesses—a small shop, a café, and a bar.

He nodded toward the bar. “This is it, Miss.”

Sunny was nervous, and she nodded slowly. She gulped and asked the driver in Spanish to wait for her. “I won’t be long,” she said, praying silently that she was nervous for no reason.

She stepped out of the taxi and walked into the bar. It was noon, but already the place was packed with a bunch of very serious looking Mexican men. Sunny looked around and noticed that she was the only female present. As if on cue, several of the men started whistling and making provocative noises, rubbing their hands together and smiling at her, leeringly. One man, who Sunny couldn’t help noticing was kind of handsome, approached and spoke to her in English.

“What can I do for you,
morena
?” He had a low haircut, a muscular build, and a permanent smirk on his face. He exuded a cocky aura, and Sunny could tell instantly that he was not to be fucked with.

“I’m looking for Miguel.” She watched the man’s face closely, saw him raise one eyebrow slightly as if intrigued. “Estella sent me.”

The man stared at her without saying anything for a few long moments. Sunny shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to the other and waited. Finally, he spoke.

“You want to see Miguel.” He said it like a statement, rather than a question. Sunny nodded. “For what?”

Sunny frowned. She had expected that the name “Miguel” alone would tell them what she was looking for. “Estella said that I should just ask for Miguel.” She felt her heartbeat speed up and the audacity of what she was doing hit her all at once. She was in Mexico, alone in a bar on the wrong side of town, attempting to buy cocaine. If this went wrong, she was fucked. She slipped her right hand into the pocket of her dress and fingered the razor she had brought along. She knew that she was outnumbered. But if the shit hit the fan, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The man stared at her, watching her squirm. His expression was serious and he could tell that he was making her nervous. He was enjoying it. After several additional moments of silence, a slow smile crept across his face and he held his hand out to her. “I am Miguel. And what is your name?”

She wanted to laugh from relief and cry from anguish at the same time. “Sunny.” She immediately wondered if she should have given him a fake name. She wasn’t thinking straight due to her nervousness.

“Okay, Sunny.” Miguel circled her, taking in her appearance and deciding instantly that she was his type. Her long legs, nice ass and pretty face were making his dick hard. He completed his circle and stood in front of her once more. “What can I get for you?”

She reached in her purse and pulled out the cash. She looked around at the other men in the room and wondered why they didn’t do this in private. She couldn’t imagine that all of these men were part of Miguel’s gang, but she was probably wrong. No doubt they were all members of his organization, and were all enjoying watching him toy with the American girl.

Miguel smiled at the sight of the money, then noticed the diamond rings on her fingers as they caught the scant light coming in through one of the windows. Her earrings were diamond encrusted, also. Her sunglasses were Gucci. “Take off your shades,
chica.
I like to look people in their eyes when I talk to them.”

Sunny complied, removing her sunglasses. She wondered how long she had been in here and prayed that her driver was still waiting for her outside. She looked Miguel in his eyes and tapped her iced-out Cartier watch impatiently.

“I’m in a rush,” she said. She lowered her voice, hoping that only he could hear her.

“
Yeyo
. I need it.”

“You
need
it?” He laughed. So did the other men in the bar.

“Yes. I do. Can I have it or should I go someplace else?”

Miguel frowned. “There is no place else.” He looked offended. “You should be more patient,
mamí
.” He snapped his fingers and one of the men brought over a large bag of white powder.

Sunny handed Miguel the money and took the coke, stuffed it in her bag. “Thank you,” she said, and turned to leave. Another man blocked her path. She heard Miguel laughing behind her.

“You should stay for a while. Have a drink.”

Sunny realized again how stupid it was for her to be here alone in a foreign country surrounded by a room full of men—dangerous men.

Just as she started to panic, the door flew open and two men came in dragging a third one by the collar. The duo threw their catch on the floor and started speaking to Miguel in angry Spanish. Miguel’s attention shifted from Sunny to the man who had just been brought in. The thug who had moments earlier blocked her exit was now kicking the victim. It didn’t take Sunny long to figure out that this was her cue to leave. Without a second thought, she slipped out the door and ran to the taxi waiting for her.

As she climbed inside, she wondered if Malcolm was enjoying this trip as much as she was.

*   *   *

The next three days passed quickly for the loving couple. They had a blast! They went horseback riding, sunbathed and Jet Skied. They explored historic cathedrals and visited a small local museum. Sunny found herself enjoying things that she had never imagined she would. They took long walks by the beach, and had romantic dinners and late breakfasts on the terrace outside their suite. She tried telling herself that she wasn’t falling in love, that she was having so much fun because of the intoxicating combination of the tropical locale, great sex, good food, and pure Mexican cocaine. But deep inside, she knew that she had fallen for Malcolm long ago. That became abundantly clear when they lay together in the huge bathtub in their suite, surrounded by candles and with a light breeze blowing in through the open window.

Malcolm stroked Sunny’s hair as she lay on his chest. She had her eyes closed and felt as though she was floating on a cloud of pure bliss. She was feeling like a million bucks, and she wasn’t even high anymore. She hadn’t snorted since early that morning, and the high had long ago worn off. She was drifting now on happiness alone.

“So tell me … why did you fall out of love with your wife?” she asked.

Malcolm kissed her forehead, stroked her hair and sighed. “I didn’t fall out of love with her, I think it was the other way around. We got married when I was a first-year associate and she was just getting her feet wet as a lobbyist in D.C. In the beginning, we were really in love. At least I was.” Malcolm poured another glass of the merlot they had chilling in an ice bucket beside the tub. He took a long sip and continued. “We had a good thing in the beginning. We got married, honeymooned in Hawaii, and then three months later she was pregnant. It was nice.”

Sunny thought it all sounded so perfect. “So what happened?”

He shrugged. “I think sometimes women say that they want a certain type of man—stable, committed, faithful, attentive. But then they get a man like that and they say ‘he’s too nice.’ What they say they want isn’t really what they want at all.” He shrugged again. “About a year after our daughter was born, we started drifting apart. Or maybe it would be better if I said that
she
started drifting. We moved to the West Coast and then it got better for a while. It was fun again. But I had to focus on my career. I was trying to make partner, and she was bored being a wealthy housewife. The next thing I knew she got caught up in the whirlwind of L.A. She started making friends with some real superficial people and I felt like I didn’t know who she was anymore. I did everything I could to make it work—we went to counseling, I started cutting back my hours at work—but over time it became clear to both of us that her heart wasn’t in it anymore. She got bored with the relationship and she wanted out. So I didn’t fight her. I let her have the house, the cars and primary custody of Chance. Now I’ve moved to New York to start over.” He sipped his wine again.

“And that’s when I found you.” Malcolm kissed her and smiled at her. “Everything happens for a reason.”

Sunny smiled back. “Wow,” she said. She thought about everything she’d just heard and wondered if, like Malcolm’s ex-wife, she was taking a good man for granted. She thought about her life before him. She had been bored, lonely, and longing for exactly what she had now—a man who was romantic, trustworthy, fun and had a hint of a hard edge (Malcolm’s roughness exhibited itself in the bedroom, which was where Sunny preferred it most.) She had that now, and yet she still slipped away to get high every chance she got. She looked at him with new eyes, admiring his attempt to make his marriage work. She decided that she would do whatever it took to keep from breaking his heart the way his ex had.

“I love you, Sunny.” Malcolm looked into her eyes as he said it.

She smiled at him, took a deep breath, and jumped out the imaginary window in her heart.

“I love you, too,” she said.

The smile that spread across his face told her that she had just made him the happiest man alive. That night, after they finished the entire bottle of Merlot and made love until Malcolm lay beside her snoring softly, Sunny quietly slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. She retrieved the cocaine from her makeup bag. She decided that in order to love Malcolm the way that he deserved, she had to come clean in more ways than one. She squeezed her eyes shut, emptied the coke into the toilet, and flushed it all away. It was time that she gave love a real chance.

20

MISERY

The blues crept in and overtook her on day seven. Sunny knew that it was due to her withdrawal from the drug she’d gotten accustomed to over the past several months. Being without it always made her melancholy and she made up her mind that this time she wouldn’t give in to it. Her life was as close to perfect as it would ever be. She wasn’t about to fuck it up for the sake of a high, no matter how euphoric it made her feel.

Malcolm noticed the shift in her mood and wondered what was wrong. He assumed that she was homesick, since the vibrant and fun woman he had been with for the past few days was replaced by a sulking and sad one who wouldn’t crawl out from under the covers despite his attempts to excite her again.

She managed to pull herself out of bed at close to noon and took a long, hot shower. She closed her eyes as the steamy water poured over her face, and told herself that she didn’t need any drugs. She should be high from life, since there was so much to be thankful for. She told herself that she had been throwing it all away each time she snorted some blow up her nose. She was starting over, giving Malcolm the chance that he deserved. And as she exited the shower, she felt ready to make the first step toward a new beginning.

When she reentered the room, wearing a jade green, one-piece bathing suit with cutouts on either side, Malcolm’s smile lit up the room. She tied a pale yellow sarong around her waist and slipped her feet into a pair of thong sandals. Sunny smiled at him, and he was relieved to see that she was emerging from her funky mood. He hoped that the bright colors she wore would translate into a cheery disposition.

Sunny was determined to get past this spell of the blues. Having convinced herself that she could kick her coke habit on her own, she felt that it was a case of mind over matter. If she thought about happy things, she believed that the longing would leave her.