Bare In Bermuda (24 page)

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. “I'll see you both later.”

Eden said something to stop her, but Henna didn't wait around to hear what that might be. Instead, she rushed to the open elevator outside of the spa entrance and made it inside just before the doors closed. Her phone rang in her bag. Eden. She sent the call to voice mail. Her phone rang again. Eden. She refused to answer.

Eden was the one who expected men to buy her expensive gifts, and when they didn't, she dumped them. That sort of behavior had earned Henna’s disapproval since Eden had emerged from her teen years as a young woman who had to be treated like a princess. Henna had never gotten comfortable asking for gifts let alone expecting them. The one time previously she'd tried her luck at being the sort of woman that expected expensive gifts as her due, she'd found herself alone on New Year’s Eve.

Her phone rang again as she stepped into her room. Eduardo was gone, but bouquets of flowers had been delivered with a card, waiting for her on the desk.

“Hello.” This time she answered because she knew it was Simon. The card, from Eduardo, of course, just had his name. The flowers made her smile. Eden made her want to punch something.

“I'm going to preface this conversation by saying this is the last time I get in the middle of a Hirsch girl pissing match. But first, did you sort out whatever that thing with Tony Martinez was? Because I'm going to say, that was a little weird.”

“Never mind. It was just a misunderstanding. Eden called you.”

“This is why I'm happy I only have brothers,” he said. “Men don't act like this. Men just ignore each other until they can have a few beers together and pretend nothing ever happened. So. Hold on.” He spoke in the background. “Just a moment, Eden. I have her on the phone. Yes. Just—I will call you back.”

Henna considered hanging up but waited. She wanted to talk to Simon anyway.

“Now,” Simon said. “What is the problem?”

“Eden was mean to me.”

Something that sounded like thumping came over the line.

“Are you banging your head against a wall?”

“No,” Simon said. “I am banging my head against the door. Eden was mean to you. Did she make fun of your hair, borrow some random piece of clothing without asking, or steal your doll?”

“Eduardo bought me earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet, and she asked me if I was a dominatrix who got paid in jewelry.”

Simon started out chuckling, which turned into a full belly laugh. “Are you kidding me? How much did he spend on you?”

“I don't really know,” she said. “I do know he bought me four dresses that were pretty pricey and spent as much as I make in a week on lingerie. Considering he's torn two pairs of my panties into shreds, he sort of owed me that. Why didn't you ever buy me anything nice?” She looked around the room and counted. “He left me five bouquets of flowers. You never bought me flowers.”

“How did this become about me?”

“Why don't men buy me nice things? Why do they buy me blenders? Why does Eden get jewelry and marriage proposals and I get accused of being into bondage?”

“That's a tricky one,” he said.

“Because you don't know the answer?”

“Oh, I do know the answer. I just don't want to tell you.”

“Just tell me. I think I need to hear this.”

“I'd really rather not go down this road with you. Ask Leo. You can't refuse to speak to him ever again for being just a touch too honest.”

“Just tell me.” She bent her head to a bouquet of roses and inhaled. They were fully scented and looked almost delicious enough to eat.

“Because you don't expect them to. I'm not saying you’re a cheap date. I'm just saying you don't make men work for it.”

“Meaning what?”

“Using Waverly as an example.”

“Must we?”

“Let's just call her the extreme example and then we can pull it back in from there once you have my point.”

“Fair enough.”

“Waverly makes me work like a bitch for her love. If I ever gave her a blender for her birthday, she'd chop off my dick and puree it. You, on the other hand, not only thanked Oliver when he gave you a blender, you made him smoothies.”

“I was trying to be nice and appreciative.”

“What you should have done was thrown that bastard at him and told him to fuck off.”

“I would never do that. He would have broken up with me.” She sat on the bed and started to remove her shoes.

“Sweetie,” Simon said. “He did break up with you two months later, and I'm pretty sure if he ever bought Emily a blender for her birthday, she'd pack it for him along with the rest of his shit and tell him to get out.”

Her arms fell over her head as she stretched as far as her body would go. A moment later, she popped to her feet and went to the bags Eduardo had carried back to the room after their shopping trip. “That's really hard to hear.”

“I know,” he said. “Have you had enough? Because I have.”

“Do you think it's possible I'm so afraid of losing a boyfriend once I get one that I try too hard and push them away?”

She picked up one of the bags from the lingerie store and dumped it out. The two bathing suits she'd dithered over were set to one side. The six Eduardo had liked and tossed at the saleswomen to ring up with the rest were set to the other side. “Yes. I think men thrive on the fear that they could lose their girlfriend in a moment if they somehow make the mistake of letting another man make her smile. I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about it, but I suspect Waverly has me by the nuts because she's pretty well convinced me that she's doing me a favor by lowering herself just enough to have me in her life.”

“Are you advising me to act like that?” All of the price tags had been removed from the bathing suits. Was this standard procedure in swanky shops? Did the women working the cash register know to remove the prices when a man like Eduardo was handing over his credit card?

“God, no. What I am saying is, it's fine to expect more from a man than a blender, and if he doesn't deliver, you are well within your rights not to make him smoothies. It doesn't make you a bitch to expect a certain level of consideration. Next time, throw the blender.”

“Throw the blender?” She held up the borderline slutty yet sexy white one-piece they'd both liked but she had considered a bit too, what she liked to call
Brazilian supermodel,
for a thirty-six year old gynecologist from San Francisco. Eduardo had bought it anyway. He clearly thought more of her body than she did if he thought she could get away with wearing the white bathing suit she examined.

“Throw the blender. If a man buys you a blender, you throw it at him.”

“You bought me a wok and Chinese cooking classes for my last birthday.”

“You don't blow me.”

“Point made.” The white bathing suit was put to the side. She'd try it on again. Why not? Eduardo liked it. She liked it. She just didn't think she had the body for it.

“Tell me what happened with Eden.”

She told him, not omitting anything and including editorial on Gloria, the shotgun, the machete, and the dirty looks.

“Eden knows something is up,” Simon said. “That's clear. Especially if the
Caballero Caliente
was on you like a rash last night. She was just teasing you. I know both of you well enough to know she wasn't trying to be vicious. She might painfully misjudge a situation, but she's never purposefully mean. Always keep in mind that Eden views the world as it revolves around her. This is the curse of really beautiful people. They think the rest of us have been put on the earth for their distraction and amusement. She also just doesn't know when to stop sometimes.” Like Eden had done with Simon. Painfully misjudged the situation. Saw the world only from her perspective.

“You got that right.” She moved on from bathing suits to lingerie. The two bags filled with bras, panties, nighties, and about a dozen boxes of snug-fitting stretchy boxers that Eduardo seemed to like were dumped on the bed. His things were put in one pile, and then she began to pair up her things.

“Gloria sounds pretty scary. I'd avoid her until after the wedding at the very least. Maybe it's just Fatima setting her off, or maybe she really does have a problem with her father moving on with his life. Either way, you don't want her to start engaging in attention seeking behavior at your sister's wedding just because she doesn't like the fact you're doing the nasty with her daddy. Bottom line, stay away from her and stick to the weather and everyone's health if you get caught in a conversation with her.”

“I can do that.” She laid out a set of pale pink silk with caramel lace underwear on the bed. Eduardo was forgiven for shredding her panties.

“When the moment comes to go public, let Eduardo deal with her. Make it clear to him that if she's going to flip out or threaten you, that you're done. I don't care how much you like him, if his daughter is a psychopath, walk away.”

“I can do that, too.”

“Word of advice?”

“Shoot.” She went to the drawers and began carefully putting everything away. Her things went into one drawer. Eduardo's went into another drawer. As his drawer slid shut, she realized she'd given him a drawer. Not even a week into knowing him, and he'd gotten a drawer in her space. That gave her a moment’s pause.

“Be the woman you want to be with Eduardo. Don't be the woman you think you're supposed to be or the woman that everyone expects you to be. He found something sexy and exciting in you when you stepped out of your box, and I think you liked being that person. I think you're bored as shit being good little Henna that does her taxes in January and never misses a dental check-up. You like being sexy wild Henna who has sex in airplane toilets.”

“It wasn't me.”

“Really? Are you totally sure about that? Or maybe it was the you that you've always wanted to be but were afraid of taking a chance. Tell me something. When you're alone with him getting your funky on, do you feel more like your genuine self than you do when there are other people around?”

“Yes.” She opened his drawer again and inspected the contents. Twelve unopened boxes of underwear.

“Be that person. Give yourself a mental makeover. Wear the ridiculously expensive jewelry and tell Eden to fuck off the next time she asks you if you got it for spanking the shit out of some guy. Or better yet, just tell her to call you mistress.”

A phone rang on the other end. “That's Eden,” Simon said.

“I'm not going back to the spa if Gloria is there. I don't want her drowning me in the hot tub.”

“Fair enough,” Simon said. “I'm going to get this. Just let it go for the moment. I'll call you as soon as I have Eden sorted out.”

After they hung up, she went to the bed and picked up the white bathing suit. It was cut in such a way as to accentuate rather than hide what it covered. “I'm not going to let them bother me,” she said. “I'm not.” Did women wear expensive jewelry to the pool? “I do.”

She wrapped a pareo around her body, slipped on a pair of stupidly tall red strappy shoes, gave her hair a big shake then a tease, pinned it on her head in a messy pile, and grabbed her bag and her sunglasses.

There was no sign of Eduardo at the pool, but she did find Midge, her mother, and Leo sitting at a table under an umbrella.

“Don't you look like a million bucks,” Aunt Midge told her.

“Aren't the shoes a bit much?” her mother asked. “You know what your grandmother used to say? Only children and whores wear red shoes.”

She looked at her mother. “You know it's really hurtful when you say stuff like that. I'm certainly not a child, and I don't look like a whore. Before you tell me that wasn't what you meant, that was precisely what you implied.”

“What has gotten into you?” her mother huffed. “You used to be so pleasing, and the past couple of days I'd hardly recognize you.”

“I'd be willing to take a guess,” Leo said. “About what's gotten into her, that is. Multiple times I imagine.”

Aunt Midge swatted him. “Shut your mouth.”

“Nice rocks,” Leo chuckled. “What did you do to earn those?”

“Things your perverted brain could only ever dream of.”

Her mother huffed. “Nasty talk? But seriously, where did you get those?” she asked examining her earrings.

“They were a gift,” she said.

“Aren't you supposed to be at the spa with Eden?” her mother asked.

“She pissed me off, and I really don't feel like dealing with her right now,” she said.

“Henna!” her mother scolded. “This is Eden's wedding week.”

Leo snorted. “Since when did a wedding day morph into a wedding week? Or is this just Eden being the world's most super special girl in her own mind again? Wedding week, my white ass.”

There were times she could strangle her brother with her bare hands, but that was not one of them. Instead, when he offered her a hand for a high five, they smacked palms in a show of unity.

“You are acting like infants.” Her mother rose from her chair. “I'm going to start getting ready for tonight. Get over your snit in time for dinner. All of us ladies are having dinner while the men do their thing.” She walked off without a backward glance.

“What's her problem?” she asked.

“She's really hung-over,” Leo chuckled. “Hilarious.”

“Judith could never handle her booze,” Aunt Midge said. She rose from the table. “I'm going to have a nap. I'll see you tonight.” She walked off in the direction her mother had gone.

Henna looked at Leo who was gulping down a nearly empty giant bottle of water. “So what happened to you last night?”

The bottle came away from his mouth with a pop “I was abused repeatedly by Fatima. At one point, she had me on my back and was smacking me. She made me feel dirty, which I'm sure you know says a lot. I'm telling you, she is one crazy bitch. This morning, she kicked me out of her room and told me she'd cut me if I ever told anyone. You know, I actually think she might. Those Colombians really know how to turn up the volume.”

She looked up as a shadow fell over their table. Eden, Romeo, Hector, and Gloria were helping themselves to chairs. Before one of the four had gone for an additional chair at another table, she was up with her bag in her hand. “Take my chair.”