2 Queenie Baby - Out of Office (9 page)

I nodded.

"Well, Queenie Baby," replied Roger snidely, "we didn't want you screwin' this up for us the way you did with Billy Prescott!"

I gasped. "I didn't do anything to Billy!"

"You introduced him to that accounting major in L.A. Do you know he's planning a wedding right now instead of touring? Oh, and not to mention I've got a twenty-two year old blond bulldog up my ass every week about the finances. Thinks she's fuckin' Donald Trump!" he snarled.

"That wasn't Diana's fault," Andre interjected.

"No," replied Phil, "you had a hand in that too, didn't you, Andre? You were so busy screwing around with Queenie Baby here—" He pointed rudely at me. "—you forgot to do your job. How's the wife and kids doin' these days?"

"Kids?" I said, turning to Andre. This was news.

"Kid," he said holding up one finger.

"Unbelievable." I shook my head. "All those lines you've been feeding me and not once did you mention a kid."

"What lines?" Mark snarled, waving away the medic who was looking at his chest.

I crossed my arms and turned away from Andre. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

Carlos stepped in, addressing Roger and Phil. "Diana is my musical sister. We will work together with or without your permission. However, I hope that we may come to an accord."

"I need a drink," said Roger, sitting down heavily on one of the bar stools.

I think I heard Phil mutter, "Accord my ass."

Police were coming and going, taking statements from witnesses and pictures of the "crime scene." Charles was in custody, and things were finally starting to calm down.

Roger had the bartender line up shots of rum on the bar top. It appeared Roger was already a couple ahead of us.

"Come and get 'em," he called.

Mark was still getting bandaged, and Andre was talking to the police, so Carlos and I took the liberty of drinking theirs as well.

"You know Diana, I don't have a problem with you per say," Roger said, taking another swig of rum. "However, you just have a way of attracting trouble. Phil and I believe in karma, and you've got some of the worst karma we've ever seen."

I pursed my lips. "Well, that's not really fair."

"Take this situation here," Roger indicated the general chaos of the bar. "Now I'm not saying this is your fault, but you're here. Like always. And I don't even know you that well, but I've seen enough to know I don't want to produce you. Nope, bad karma."

I looked dejectedly at my empty shot glass. Wow, I'd never had it put quite that way before. Clumsy, bad luck, sure. But was I really cursed with bad karma?

Mark came up to the bar and ordered a beer. His scrape had taken two Band-Aids. I gave him a kiss and inhaled his scent.

"Hey, now you can say you've been stabbed," I joked.

He gave me a look that indicated he was not amused.

"Oh, then again, maybe this isn't your first stab wound, secret agent man." I glared at him over my shot glass.

"What's this about Andre feeding you lines? Is this yet another boyfriend of yours causing trouble?" he asked with a healthy dose of irritation in his voice.

I shrugged. "I don't know what to say, Mark."

Andre came up behind us. "I'm in love with her, and I'm divorcing my wife," he announced.

Great, just great. I put my head on the bar.

"Why does this stuff happen to you?" Mark cried in exasperation. "What is wrong with you?"

Roger pounded on the bar top for another shot. "She's got bad juju."

It was another hour before the police finished taking statements from everyone. There was no sign of Tyrell. There was no record of him passing through airport security so the police assumed he was still in the area. Mark put a call in to the San Juan police with an update. It looked like Tyrell would try to head back to the States the way he'd come, by boat, which made it unlikely he'd be caught. I cringed at how he'd react when he realized the USB was worthless. Charles was being held on multiple assault and blackmail charges, pending extradition to the United States. David was flying home from San Juan tomorrow afternoon and had accepted Carlos' offer of a place to stay the night. Carlos' high profile lifestyle was exactly what David craved; David was also, as he'd mentioned, a big fan of "The Rum Song." Go figure.

Andre and Mark had stayed at opposite ends of the bar while I sat next to Roger, drinking too much and wondering how to rid myself of bad karma. Mark gave up questioning me about Andre after his third attempt earned him The Finger.

The thirty minute ride to the villa was even worse. I was drunk, and Mark was pissed. Not because I was drunk, although I'm sure that didn't help. He had turned on the childproof locks to prevent me from buying beer at the intersection. No, he was still sulking about Andre.

We had just passed a sign welcoming us to Rincon, the surfing capital of Puerto Rico. What wasn't particularly comforting were the tsunami signs showing a guy carrying a surfboard and running away from a giant wave. We drove through the town square made up of tight streets with old homes built right up to curb. Mark consulted his G.P.S. I followed his line of sight up a steep road. There was only room enough for one car; however, the signs indicated it was two-way traffic. He waited for the cars coming down to pass and started up the road. A car coming towards us had to back up and pull off onto a sidewalk.

"This is a crazy road," I said to make conversation.

"This whole island is full of crazy roads," he grumbled.

We continued our ascent up the side of the mountain. The road widened, but the twists and turns and cars careening wildly towards us kept the excitement factor high. Or it could've been the booze.

"Wow, look at the view," I said, staring at the blue ocean below and the green mountains all around us.

"The description mentioned a hill top villa with amazing views," Mark replied.

"Do you want to talk about things now?" I asked hesitantly.

"Not really."

"Well, I just thought we should get it all out in the open now, so we can enjoy ourselves at the villa," I reasoned.

He glanced at me. His 'yeah, right' look almost caused a head-on collision. "What's the point?" he asked. "There'll probably be a tsunami to interrupt us or some other act of nature."

Picking the mountain top had been a good choice if that was his thinking. "I just want to put this behind us."

"How?" he asked. "We can't go anywhere or do anything without running into an old boyfriend of yours. Oh, and I forgot to add, who is now madly in love with you again."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not true. Up until three weeks ago I hadn't even had a date in six months. And," I said raising my voice, "I might add it has also been six months since I've had sex. Which is getting really frustrating!"

"So no explanation for all the sudden excess of boyfriends?"

"Maybe I'm giving off a bunch of pheromones."

We pulled into a steep driveway. He leaned over and sniffed me. "Nope, smells like liquor to me."

"Roger says I have bad karma."

Mark parked the car and hooked a finger at me. "That I buy."

The villa was opulent to say the least. Everything was white and sleek with a giant wraparound veranda overlooking the valley below. There was an outdoor hot tub and swimming pool. Palm trees and other tropical plants decorated the terra-cotta tile floor. I tripped over a throw rug on my way back into the living room from the veranda and landed face-down on a plush white carpet.

I could feel Mark staring down at me. "Don't say a word," I growled into the rug.

"You need to sober up and clean up. You're shoes are all muddy. What the hell have you been doing?" he asked.

I decided to stay where I was. I propped my hands under my head and turned over to look up at him. "Swimming in a secret waterfall."

"If it was so secret, then how'd you find it?"

"Carlos had a pirate map," I replied with a yawn.

Mark raked his hand through his hair and grumbled something.

When I opened my eyes, the sun was setting behind me. I was still lying on the white rug. So much for gallantry, I thought. I sat up and took a quick inventory. Muddy feet and pounding head. Yep, just like I expected. I stumbled into the professional stainless steel and marble kitchen and found a bottle of water. Might as well find Mark and get this over with, I thought, as I took a swig of ice cold water.

I walked out onto the veranda. Mark was sitting in a lounge chair, sipping something that I suspected was Jack. Now I was driving him to drink. That sure hadn't taken long.

"You left me on the floor," I complained, as I sat down in the chair next to him.

He glared at me. "Well, I might have been tempted to carry you to bed if you'd been naked. But muddy and drunk wasn't doin' it for me."

"Well," I said, standing up and taking off my shirt and shorts revealing the bikini beneath, "I'm not drunk anymore, and in about two seconds I won't be muddy either."

I walked slowly over to the water, giving him the full rear view before diving into the pool. I broke through the water and swam up to the edge, resting my elbows on the side and leaning my head on my hands.

"Not muddy anymore," I called.

"Yeah, but I think I'm drunk now," he called back.

"The water's wonderful," I said. "Come on in with me."

He set his drink down and walked over to the pool. He waded in and floated on his back for a few seconds. I watched him, wondering if a break-up talk was coming. Although I don't think that technically he could break up with me, since we really hadn't been that serious yet.

"You can't break up with me you know," I teased when he floated over to me.

"Why not?" he asked more seriously than necessary.

Uh-oh. This
was
serious. "Well, we haven't had sex yet. So technically we're not officially together," I explained.

"I don't think you have to have sex with someone to break up with them," he said matter-of-factly. "And," he added, "I've seen you naked."

He had me there. I turned to face him. "Mark, I am sorry about everything that's happened. I didn't plan this all, you know."

He ran his hand along the side of my face. "I know," he said softly. "I just don't think I have the energy or the patience for all this. Being with you is exhausting."

"But things just happen. I don't plan them," I cried.

"I know, and that makes it even scarier."

"You know, you haven't made this exactly a picnic," I huffed, grabbing a towel as I waded out of the pool. "You're the one with the crazy cousin jeopardizing my job at the staffing agency. My dog was almost Tasered by his idiot father. Oh, and let's not forget you didn't think that telling me you were in the CIA was an important detail."

Mark followed me out of the pool. He wrapped a towel around his waist and took a seat on his lounge chair. He picked up his phone, looked at the screen for a few seconds, and then held the phone up to his face.

"Hey, Rick, how're you doin'?" he said.

I stared dumbfounded. He was talking to Rick? As in my old boyfriend Rick?

He continued, "Just want to let you now that I'm giving her back. Ah, yeah, just too much crazy for me. I know it's a shame 'cause she looks damn good naked. Oh, she's good at that, too? See I wouldn't know about that since we never get to be alone!" he yelled into the phone.

I threw my towel at him. "Not funny!"

He put the phone down. "He said no take-backs."

"You're a jerk!" I cried. "You know, I should go back to Rick. At least he's predictable and doesn't have any crazy relatives trying to Taser me or my dog. Not to mention the thugs that tried to kidnap me!"

"Yeah," said Mark wryly, "good thing your old boyfriend, the bodyguard, and your new pirate friend were there to stop them."

I huffed off, deciding to take a shower and get ready for the evening. No way I was staying here with Mark. What an ass! Maybe I'd give Carlos a call and see how things were going with Roger and Phil. There was a chance he had softened them up to the idea of us singing together. At this point, going out on the town with a famous rock star was starting to sound good, even if he was singing my song.

*  *  *

It was almost seven before I emerged from the amazing marble bathroom with jetted tub and six-person shower. That shower alone had made me rethink my plans for the evening. All I could picture was what we could
do
in there. Showers aren't like hot tubs in that way, you know. And I had no intention of giving up on Mark. He was by far the most interesting man I'd met in years.

I swiped on some makeup and blew out my hair until it shined like gold. I chose a casual sheer white cotton dress with gold accents and gold flip flops. As I put on some gold hoop earrings, a light bulb went off in my head. I realized that maybe this was all part of the plan. Just maybe we were going through all this because we were being tested. I truly believe that all things work out the way they're supposed to. Maybe not the way you want or the way you thought they would happen, but the way they're supposed to. With renewed determination, I dabbed on some perfume and headed for the living room.

The smell of something wonderful reminded my stomach that it had been hours since lunch. My shoes clicked gently on the tile floor. Mark was setting a table on the veranda. He had lit torches and candles. The sky was painted a light pink.

"I feel like I'm at Tribal Council on
Survivor
," I laughed. "Are you voting me off?"

He turned around, and, from his look, I could tell he appreciated my new and improved appearance. He put down the dishes and walked over to me. His hand brushed a strand of hair from my eyes.

"You look amazing."

I leaned forward, but he didn't kiss me. Not a good sign.

I turned my face to kiss his hand. He pulled away, putting some distance between us.

"Okay," I said in a rush, "before you serve me The Last Supper here," I said pointing at the table, "you should at least hear me out."

He sighed. "This isn't The Last Supper, Diana. I'm not voting you off the island either."

"But?" I prompted.

"But, I think we've gone as far as we need to go as a couple. At least for right now," he added.

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked. Then I waved my hands. "Just forget that and hear me out, please?"

He nodded and took a seat.

"Everything that has happened between us so far was meant to happen. We're being tested. If we can get through all the wacky things that have happened in the first couple of weeks of knowing each other, then we are truly meant to be together."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Tested?"

I nodded.

"By God? The universe? Normal people don't get 'tested' like this."

"Precisely," I said, pointing my finger at him. "This isn't a normal relationship. I mean really, have you ever been in a relationship even remotely like this one?"

He slowly shook his head in the negative.

I'm not sure that was the best point to make, but I plodded on.

"See!" I exclaimed. "Neither have I! So this must mean this one is
the one
. The special one!" I finished triumphantly.

He stared at me for several seconds. Finally, he said, "I have no idea what to say."

"Well, say something," I replied, starting to feel deflated.

"You want me to believe that all the crazy stuff that has come between us has somehow been a divine test of our relationship?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," I said in a low voice. What could I say? I really believed that explained it all.

"You don't think it might have something to do with how we live our lives. Maybe that we just aren't compatible?"

"No," I replied. "Most of the things that have happened were out of our control. I suppose you'd blame an act of nature on our incompatibility as well?"

Mark ran a hand through his hair. "Look, let's just eat. I've made some fresh tuna on the grill. We can talk about this after dinner."

"Okay," I agreed. I tried to be positive, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had already lost him.

Mark handed me a glass of wine and then headed back to the kitchen to bring out the rest of the food. I gazed moodily down at the twinkling valley below. The air was hot and heavy, weighing on my mood. How could we be so far apart in such an amazing place?