Unfortunately, I forgot one of the first rules of the so-called pickup laws, which is ignore that which you want to attract. The girl followed me, splashing through the water to catch up to me. "My name’s Tiffany," she said, giving my arm a touch. "My friend and I were kind of wondering if you'd like to have a drink."
I glanced over and had my suspicions confirmed as it was the same girl that I'd seen her with before. She’d been here about as long as I had I think. I’d seen her around. From what I could tell, she was here to see if she could engage in enough debauchery to make a porn star blush. Obviously, Tiffany was here for the same purpose.
"No thanks," I said dismissively. “I’d prefer to keep my kidneys."
Tiffany laughed at my joke, which wasn't as much of a joke as I'd let on, and grabbed my bicep. "Come on, stud. You can get yourself some stories to tell the boys back at work."
I turned and fixed Tiffany with a withering stare. “Look, I’m normally not the rude type, but you don’t seem to be getting the message so I’ll try it a different way,” I said softly, pulling my arm out of her grip. "I wouldn’t let my dick anywhere within ten feet of your diseased, stretched out bodies if aliens invaded and you two were the only chance we had for repopulating the human race."
Tiffany's face went from shock to sullenness to rage in the course of about five seconds. She probably didn't get rejected often, and I doubt anyone had the guts to say something to her like I just did. She was certainly a country-club type girl, whose father probably allowed her to want for nothing. "What are you, some fucking faggot?"
I ignored her and walked away, heading out of the water. She hurled insults at my back, the usual litany of a spoiled child who didn't get her way, but I didn't really notice the diatribe except for the splash of cool water across my back. "Fucking prick!”
Making my way up the beach, I exchanged amused glances with the staffer I passed. He’d seen it all and just shook his head. I guess at a resort with a new reputation for being a bit wild and sexy, he'd seen a lot.
Checking out a cruiser bike from the shack, I decided to do a quick couple of miles around the island. While the total amount of tracks was probably less than three-quarters of a mile total, the island did have a large hill that dominated most of the terrain. Going up that thing was a great way to get my heart pumping, and after about forty minutes or so of going up the hill, cruising down and circling back around, I was feeling good about things.
I made one last trip up the hill, finding a clearing area that gave me a nice view of the main portion of the resort. I could look miles out into the sea, letting me clear my mind. I sat down on the loamy earth, assuming a lotus pose on the forest floor and starting my deep breathing. It's an important part of my daily routine.
"Einz, zwei, drie, vier....." I started in German, reaching twenty before switching over to Chinese. Chinese gave way to Finnish, then Icelandic, and finally Spanish before I reached one hundred. I was centered and opened my eyes to just sit back and observe the natural beauty of the resort.
This was a heck of a place for my yearly retreat, I thought to myself as I leaned back against a tree trunk. A lot better than last year.
It was true. Last year I'd settled for two weeks in the Sangre de Cristo mountains around Taos. Beautiful, but too austere for the inner peace that I sought. I'd spent too much time in desolate places.
I admired the flew for a few more seconds, then got to my feet. I had just enough time to enjoy a light lunch and some reading in my room before it was time to get ready for my date with Melina. I hadn't been on a real date in a while, I couldn’t afford to get too attached. With the secrets that I knew, anyone that got close to me could be in danger. But there was something about Melina, in her eyes, that made me forget, that made me want to get to know her. I actually felt a little bit of anxiety as I rolled down the mountain toward the main part of the resort.
Chapter 3
Melina
I had no idea what the hell I was doing, dressing up for dinner. I hadn't been on an actual formal date in months, at least, being so busy with my work, and the last boyfriend I had wasn’t the sort of guy who got dressed up. Jeans and a polo shirt was about the best I could expect from him, and a romantic dinner was a trip to Olive Garden. Nothing against Olive Garden, I loved the place, but would it hurt to go somewhere a little nicer every now and then?
Finally, at about five forty-five, I got frustrated as I couldn't decide for the fifth time between the skirt I'd packed and the one dress I'd slipped into my suitcase on a last minute whim. I picked up my room phone and dialed room 275. The phone kept ringing, and I was just about to hang up when Cameron picked up. "Hello?"
"Cam? It's Melina, you know, from the beach today?"
“Of course, hi Melina," Cam said. “I was hoping you’d call. What’s up?”
"Well, I have a problem," I said.