Bare In Bermuda (16 page)

“I grow coffee.”

“I thought most coffee planters in Colombia were small producers.” Her father gave Eduardo the eye. “You seem to be doing okay for yourself.”

“You are correct,” Eduardo said. “Most producers are very small, single family operations. We are the largest individual producers in Colombia. Our plantation has been in our family for nearly two hundred years. It is a family business that I will be turning over to my daughter one day.” He gestured to Gloria who sat next to her father. “Gloria lives in New York City. Perhaps you can have a conversation with her about the number of parking tickets she gets and the need to pay them in a timely fashion.”

“Papa!” Gloria cried out. “I don't get that many tickets.”

“You'd probably pay more attention to the number if you were the one paying for them.”

Henna’s father stared at Eduardo for a moment then laughed loudly. “I'll see what I can do,” he said then turned away from Eduardo to Gloria who sat next to him.

“Good morning,” Eduardo said politely to Henna. His knee touched hers under the table, sending a wave of tingles through her body.

“Hello,” she said, returning the smile.

Aunt Midge leaned in, pulling her close to mumble in her ear, “That's one sexy daddy.”

Henna giggled. “Stop it.”

“I'm just saying,” Aunt Midge whispered. “You think he might like older women?”

“You're bad,” she said.

“I know, honey,” Aunt Midge said, patting her on the hand then giving it a small squeeze. “Just remember you get it from me.”

“Hola!” A woman wrapped in a leopard print dress that looked practically painted on waved and walked like a beauty queen across the terrace. “Hello!”

“Look at the knockers on her,” Aunt Midge whispered. “If those are real, then I'm the Pope.”

Henna looked down at her own bust then back up at the cleavage of the approaching woman. “We can only hope she has back problems,” she whispered to Aunt Midge.

“Amen.”

On her other side, Eduardo mumbled something in Spanish. She looked at him briefly as he watched the woman approach. There was a tightness around his eyes, and he was not smiling.

“Fatima,” Romeo said warmly. He rose to greet the woman who hugged him and kissed his cheeks.

There wasn't another place at the table, but that didn't stop Fatima from joining them. A waiter brought another chair, and it was wedged at the table between Gloria and her father. It was impossible to understand what was being said between the Spanish speakers, so when Fatima came to Henna, she was prepared to let Eduardo do the talking for her.

“You go sit over there,” Fatima told her. “I sit next to Eduardo. Go on. Over there.”

“Okay,” she said. “Whatever.”

“Fatima,” Eduardo said, followed by a string of incomprehensible Spanish. By the time he was done telling the woman whatever it was he had to tell her, Henna was seated between her father and Gloria, and Fatima was in her seat.

“I got bumped.”

“She's a pushy one,” her father said when she was seated. “Sweetheart, meet Inez, Romeo's grandmother and Gloria, his sister. The one with too many parking tickets. The two of you have a lot in common.”

“Really daddy?” She stared at her father.

“Because you don't? Gloria's an MBA student at Colombia. Went to Stanford just like you. Lives on the same block I grew up on. Go figure.”

Henna gave Gloria and Inez a smile and a wave. “Hello.”

“I'm sorry Fatima was a total bitch to you,” Gloria said. “But that's her. A total bitch.”

“Fatima is being wholly herself,” Inez said diplomatically in flawless aristocratic English. Her English was absolutely perfect. Beyond perfect. No native speaker spoke so smoothly. “This sort of behavior was only to be expected.”

“Your English is absolutely perfect,” she complimented Inez.

“My mother was English,” Inez explained. “My father was Portuguese. I split my time between the two countries when I was growing up.”

“How did you end up in Colombia?”

“Love, my dear.” Inez smiled. “Love is a great motivator. Especially when it came to moving out of my London flat to the wilds of Colombia fifty years ago.”

“That's love.”

“Considering we didn't even have indoor plumbing when I got there? Yes. That was love.”

Henna laughed as did her father and Gloria.

Eduardo's voice rose above the other small conversations at the table for a brief moment. Just enough to capture her attention and keep it.

“What are they saying?” she asked her father.

“He wants to know what she's doing here because this is for family only. She told him that she's just as good as family and don't make a scene in front of Romeo's new in-laws.”

Gloria leaned in slightly. “She is not just as good as family. She's a total bitch and I despise her.”

“Gloria.” Inez looked at her granddaughter. “Language.”

“She is a bitch,” Gloria repeated. “I'm sorry, but she is.”

“Who is she?” her father asked.

“She's my father's girlfriend,” Gloria explained. “And by girlfriend, I mean they're lovers. She thinks they're getting married, but god as my witness, I'll put a bullet in that woman before I let her marry my father.”

Henna shot a look across the table to where Eduardo was engaged in a quiet conversation with Fatima. Gloria might have to beat her to a gun. She pulled her phone out of her bag and looked at it. Three texts from Simon. All wanting an update. She ignored Simon and moved on to Eduardo.
Did you really think I wasn't going to find out you had a girlfriend? Do not ever speak to me again, you miserable lying bastard.
She hit send then dropped her phone into her bag as the conversation continued around her.

“Now that's a loyal daughter.” Her father nodded in approval. “No woman good enough for your daddy?”

“That's right.” Gloria stared across the table at Fatima. “Especially that one.”

Henna watched as Eduardo reached into his breast pocket and removed his phone. His already dark face turned grim. He didn't bother to look up at her as he responded. When her phone chirped, she ignored it.

“Your father is never going to marry that woman,” Inez said. “If he does, I really will drop dead the day of the wedding and then come back and haunt him. I will. That's not just a threat. I love my son, but I've had just about enough of Fatima. That whole business with Don Juan Esperanza was the last straw for me.”

“Don Juan Esperanza?” Henna said automatically. Her phone chirped a second time in her bag. The temptation to look finally got the best of her. Two texts from Eduardo. The first one.
She is not my girlfriend.
The second.
I am not a lying bastard and stop ignoring me.
Her response.
Bite me.

Eduardo had inherited his charm from his mother and his looks from his father. Where he got being a low down lying bastard from was still unknown.

“Don't ask,” Inez sighed. “It's too nice a morning to talk about Don Juan Esperanza. Now instead, you tell us about yourself. You are a doctor? You are intelligent like my Gloria. I always admire young women that realize their potential.”

She glanced at Eduardo as he read her infantile retort. There was no response. He put his phone in his pocket and continued his conversation with Midge and Leo. That couldn't be it. It wasn't possible he'd just do as instructed and never speak to her again. Or was it?

Henna turned all her attention to her father, Gloria, and Inez, Eduardo's mother. Even if she wanted to look at Eduardo, her eyes refused to look anywhere near him. So she enjoyed a conversation with her father and the two Salazar women.

The conversation around her spared her from having to look at her inactive phone. Eduardo didn't send another message during brunch. By the time she choked down what she could of her pancakes, she saw an opportunity to escape quickly and discreetly.

“Where are you going?” her mother asked when she started to get up from her chair.

“I...” She picked up her handbag and scooted around her chair. “I wanted to go to the perfumery. I want to see how the perfume is made.” Not true. She was going to go and sit in her room and feel sorry for herself, maybe have a cry, then try to figure out if it was her, the men she met, or a combination of both that always equaled tears.

“I was going to do this very same thing,” Eduardo said, rising from his chair. “I will join you. Would anyone else care to join us?”

She stared at him not certain if she should be angry that he would just assume she wasn't really mad at him or furious that he ignored her warning to stay away.

“I'd love to come,” Aunt Midge said, standing. “Lou and I went to the perfumery years ago. It's just gorgeous all of those fields of flowers. You'll love it.”

“Excellent,” she cheered. Aunt Midge would be an effective barrier to an awkward conversation.

“Aunt Midge,” Eden whined. “I need you to do my hem and my straps.”

“Or not today,” Aunt Midge said, sitting.

“I could stay,” Henna offered quickly. “I'm the maid of honor. I should be around today. In fact. I'm going to stay.”

“Go,” Eden said with a wave of her hand. “When was the last time you actually had a day off and did something other than clean your stove or have your car serviced?”

“You need me more than I need to go to the perfumery. And I’ve missed you and I’d like to spend time with you.”

“It’s fine,” Eden said. “We are booked in for a big spa day tomorrow and can catch up then. I’m busy today with Romeo, finalizing arrangements with the hotel’s wedding planner.”

“You really don’t need me?”

“Go with my father,” Romeo said. “Have a good time.” He turned to his father. “Take Henna to the caves. The caves are incredible.”

“We will go to the caves,” Eduardo said. “We might even have time to go to the fort. We may be gone all day.”

“No. We will not be gone all day.”

“Go,” her mother said. “We just have to get Eden's dress sorted out. You'd think living in Italy she might have found a seamstress to get her hem done.”

“I told you I was really busy,” Eden said. “Planning a wedding is stressful.”

“Stressful? The hotel did everything and the two of you sent out an email. Where is the stress in that?”

“You really can’t understand how hard it was to find the perfect dress.”

“You mean the dress you didn’t get hemmed?”

Eduardo reached for the pitcher of Mimosa’s on the table and refills her mother’s glass.

“Smart man,” her father mumbled. “Judith. Never mind. I’m taking you golfing then for lunch. Eden and Romeo don’t need you flipping out. Eden and Romeo, do whatever you need to do to make sure everything goes according to plan. Henna, you go to the perfume thing with Eduardo. Eduardo, don’t take Henna to any underground caves. The last time I did that, she had a panic attack and puked all over my shoes.”

“I was eight.”

“Midge you sort out the dress.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Aunt Midge called out with a salute.

“Clever. Leo.”

“Yo.”

“Plan a tasteful and appropriate evening out for the men.”

“You mean a bachelor party?” Leo hummed in anticipation.

“No,” Eden shrieked. “No bachelor party. Especially a bachelor party planned by Leo.”

“Eden…” Hanna’s father raised a hand. “Appropriate evening out for the men. Those men including me, Eduardo, Enrique, and Father Paulo. Okay?”

“Fine,” Eden said.

Her father looked at Leo. “Do I need to tell you no strippers or hookers?”

“No,” Leo said. “I’m a little offended that you would think you might have to.”

“Do I need to remind you about your cousin Bobby’s bachelor party?” Her father stared down his middle child and only son.

“No,” Aunt Midge, the mother of cousin Bobby, growled.

“Anyone over the age of fifty who will not mention wedding plans and dresses and wants to go play golf with me and Judith, raise a hand.”

Enrique and Father Paulo each raised a hand.

“Perfect,” her father said. “We have a foursome. That’s all of us sorted. We meet back here at seven for cocktails.”

The people at the table began breaking off into their groups and disbursing.

“I'll go with you,” Fatima said to Eduardo. “But I really would rather go shopping, just us.” Fatima looked at Henna. “You go do your tourist thing by yourself like you wanted.”

“There you go,” Henna said to Eduardo. “Take her shopping.”
Maybe buy her something that fits over her boobs.

Henna smiled at Fatima then turned and walked in the direction of the elevator. Whatever Eduardo said to Fatima as she walked away sounded forceful and unpleasant. She didn't need to look to know Eduardo was behind her. A small swell of victory rose inside her. He might have ignored her invitation to engage in a texting battle, but he hadn’t given up and walked away without giving her the satisfaction of a lame excuse and a bit of groveling.

Henna watched Eduardo out of the corner of her eye as she waited on the elevator. From the stand filled with brochures for sightseeing trips and points of interest, he picked up four. He handed her the pamphlets, and she glanced at them. The Crystal Caves, the maritime museum, the aquarium, and the perfumery.

“I am not going anywhere with you,” she whispered to him as he stood next to her and they waited on the elevator. “I am especially not going to any caves.”

“Worried you're going to vomit on my shoes?”

“I was eight. Where is your girlfriend?” She looked at the brochure for the aquarium. She made a mental note to get there before leaving Bermuda.

“She is not my girlfriend.”

“Does she know this? Because Gloria told me that you two are lovers.”

“Being my lover, does not make her my girlfriend.”

Henna stared up at him for a moment before purposefully ignoring his presence. The elevator door opened, and she entered with him next to her. Fatima was approaching across the lobby. Her enormous breasts waving in sync with her hand.

Henna looked up at Eduardo. “What did you tell her?”

“That she annoyed me, and that I’d rather scoop my eyes out with spoons than take her shopping.” He rapidly pushed their floor number then punched the close door button. Fatima almost made it, but not quite.