CHAPTER 17
Doctor Church
One week later
“There goes another one, bro!”
“Look at that one!”
“That ass! Aye mami!”
I turn and look at the two clowns sitting next to me who are watching scantily clad hoochies walk by. I didn’t even notice them.
I don’t notice much these days. Those girls could be naked for all I care. I wouldn’t even look up from my magazine, not that I remember a single word of what I just read.
It’s just another travel magazine full of destinations I hope might make me forget about her. But I know if I keep running from my past it will only make matters worse.
But I’ve tried hobbies since I arrived. Polo. Surfing. Golfing. They should be providing me with a rush, mental and visual stimulation that “gets me out of my own head” but they don’t work. I’m still focused on one thing and one thing only.
Her.
“Una mas cerveza, señor?” the waitress teases.
“Sí,” I say, trying to be cordial.
“You know,” she says. “It’s more fun when you don’t drink alone.”
“Probably so,” I say.
“Well, if you’re not busy my friends and I have rented a boat tomorrow.”
“Weather is supposed to be nice. I’m sure you’ll have a good time,” I say.
“Yeah. It’s supposed to be hot tomorrow. Hot and really sunny. You know what that means?”
“That sunscreen will be a good idea.”
“You’re so funny,” she says, as she playfully slaps my arm. It’s too obvious and I wish she wouldn’t touch me, but at least she doesn’t leave her hand on my arm. If she did I’d have to ask her to move it away. Thankfully that didn’t happen and I don’t have to embarrass her or cause a scene.
“No silly,” she continues. “Those little triangle tops we wear will be too uncomfortable and they’ll leave tan lines we won’t be able to get rid of.”
“What a shame,” I say, clearly not interested in continuing this conversation.
“So we’ll most likely have to take them off,” she says. She pauses. “We’ll have to take our tops. All five of us girls,” she says in a louder voice.
The two guys at the table next to me spin around so fast I’d swear their chairs were on a swivel, or at least they’re necks. If I was a whiplash doctor I’d have two patients not more than a couple arms length from me.
“Looks like these two fine gentleman might be interested in joining you and your friends,” I say, trying to get rid of her.
“But I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in you,” she says as she leans in and whispers in my ear. “And I know my friends will be too, if you catch my drift.”
“I think it’s time for me to drift on out of here,” I say. I stand and place the money on the table. “I’ll have to take a rain check on that last beer.”
“Maybe tomorrow? We’ll have beers on the boat.” She won’t give up.
Most guys would give their right arm for a few minutes with a girl who looks like her, let alone her and her five friends naked on a boat…or whatever it was she was offering. I missed most of it.
But for me?
I’d give anything for five minutes again with Matilda. Clothed. Naked. On a boat or on the North Pole. It doesn’t matter because I know we’d have fun anywhere, any time, any place.
But where is she?
And when will I see her again?
If I can only figure out who, or what agency, placed her abroad.
I walk back to my beach bungalow and I already know what I’m going to do next.
Fire up the internet and search for my lost angel.
I won’t stop until I find her.