Acapulco Adventure Read online

  ACAPULCO ADVENTURE

  MARILYN CONNER

  ACAPULCO ADVENTURE

  A Books to Go Now Publication

  Copyright © Marilyn Conner Miles 2013

  Books to Go Now

  For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected]

  First eBook Edition –April 2013

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

  If you are interested in purchasing more works of this nature, please stop by

  www.bookstogonow.com

  Acknowledgement

  Thanks to Jenni for all her help in making

  a lifetime dream possible.

  Dedicated to Linda Acker Nygaard.

  Acapulco Adventure

  Brenda and the weatherman were right—the fog did clear up. In fact, the sun came out and nearly blinded me every time I looked out the big glass windows of the airport terminal where I worked as a ticket agent for WestAir. There were only a couple hours of my shift left and I checked the clock every few minutes.

  I’d left home still feeling sorry for myself about the breakup with Mark. I wasn’t in any shape to take this trip to Mexico. Brenda didn’t understand. She had no trouble with men breaking up with her; she usually broke up with them. Still, I needed to be mature about it, so I put on my happy face.

  I was in the middle of checking a passenger in, when I heard Brenda suck in a breath and say, “Uh-oh.” A group of pilots stood around the ticket counter as usual chatting with her, but suddenly it got quiet, and when I looked up, I saw why: a few steps away from our counter, was Mark. And he wasn’t alone. A blonde flight attendant stood next to him, her hand possessively holding onto his arm.

  I gave a horrified gasp, practically threw the ticket and change at the passenger, dashed away from the counter and stumbled into the back room. I ran smack dab into a man’s solid chest.

  “Ooofff! Hey Dee, what’s the hurry?”

  I looked up. It was Greg, one of our pilots. “I, uh...”

  But then I heard another familiar male voice. Mark must have seen my reaction and come after me. Maybe I’d over-reacted. Maybe that woman grabbed him and he was being polite. Maybe he was really looking for me and ran into her. Maybe he realized what a big mistake he’d made and wanted to get back together with me. All these thoughts ran through my mind in less than a second. There was only one way to show Mark that he wasn’t getting under my skin.

  I grabbed Greg by the shirt and pulled him down. I had meant for the kiss to be a statement, but when he didn’t pull away, it turned into something… good. Greg’s arms that’d grabbed me when I ran into him, tightened around me, and pulled me closer.

  When we finally broke apart, Mark watched us, with the blonde still on his arm. Greg recuperated from the kiss much quicker than I did. Without missing a beat, he reached for Mark’s hand and shook it. “Hey man, how are ya’ doing? Long time no see.”

  “Well, it looks as though you’re in good hands, Deeann. Uh, nice to see you guys again. We’d better get going. Come on, Suze,” Mark said, and walked back out of the room, pulling the blonde after him.

  “Why did you kiss me back?” I pushed away from Greg. “You just ruined my chances of ever getting back with him.”

  He watched me for a long moment before he replied, “I think I understand your motive for that kiss, but Dee, don’t you see? Mark’s already moved on.”

  Greg turned and left the room. I reached up and touched my lips, the feel of Greg’s kiss still there.

  ****

  After our shift ended, the three of us sat in the back room behind the counter, killing time until our flights out. Greg was engrossed in a game of Solitaire, which left Brenda and me time to talk.

  “That’s it. I’ve had it. No more men for me. You can say, ‘I told you so’ if you want, but I’m glad you talked me into taking this trip after all,” I admitted sheepishly. “In fact, I’m really looking forward to some girl time. No men.”

  “Uh, yeah, well about that...” she began hesitantly, and looked over at Greg.

  I looked at her with suspicion. “What? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Well, remember, you told me to find someone else to go with me. And you know how much I’ve been looking forward to this trip...and well, it sounded like you were going to flake out on me...so I asked Greg and he said yes,” she finished in a rush of words. Before I could respond, she rose from the chair and said, “I’m going outside for a smoke.” She left in a hurry.

  ****

  Greg shuffled the cards as I crossed my legs and anxiously bounced my foot.

  “Are you looking forward to the trip?” I asked Greg as he picked up his cards.

  “With you?” He winked. Greg was always a flirt. With his dark brown hair and darker eyes, he was handsome, and our tailored polyester airline uniforms emphasized his broad shoulders and chest. But the last thing I needed right now was another boyfriend.

  “Yes… no. We are going to Mexico together. But not together.”

  “Whatever you say. A little fun in the sun. Come on Deeann, you hafta’ learn how to have a little fun.”

  “I am fun.” I frowned. Everyone thought I was fun. Well, maybe I wasn’t my usual fun self since this thing with Mark...

  Greg cocked his head to listen to an announcement over the intercom. “Come on, that’s us.” He scooped up the cards and shoved them into his backpack. “I’ll get Brenda.”

  “Okay, I’ll catch up.” Why was I always rattled when I was around him? Just because I’d kissed him didn’t mean that I liked him. He was like Mark, flirting with every female in sight. I sighed and reached down to pick up my purse, carry-on bag and suitcase. Because we traveled standby, I hadn’t checked the suitcase ahead of time. But it wasn’t there. Greg must have picked it up and taken it for me. Just in case, I searched around some more, but I heard the crackle of the intercom announcing the second call for our flight. I rushed out the door and down the corridor to the gate where Brenda waved frantically at me.“Hurry! Greg’s already boarded.”

  We were the last passengers to board the plane. Brenda and I were lucky to find seats next to each other, and I saw Greg down the aisle. Before I could ask him about my suitcase, a flight attendant came by offering drinks.

  “To fun and excitement,” Brenda said, lifting her glass in a toast. I clinked my glass of Seven and Seven, with hers, and then downed it. When I looked back at Greg again, I saw that he was chatting with the pretty female flight attendant.

  I happened to glance over the flight attendant’s shoulder and noticed a dark-complexioned man looking at them and glaring. Maybe he was impatient for his drink. He wore a deep scowl on his somewhat puffy face, and his cheap suit looked ill-fitting and un-pressed. His hair fell in greasy strands across his forehead, causing him to constantly reach up to push them aside.

  When I turned back, Brenda had already drifted off to sleep, so I pulled my newest romance novel out of my carry-on bag and began to read.

  ****

  I jerked awake when I felt something cold and wet land on me. The liquid dri
pped down my neck and soaked the front of my uniform blouse.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss. I didn’t see your feet in the aisle.” The flight attendant handed me a towel and I dabbed at my neck and clothing. I knew it was already too late. The dark, red wine stained the cloth. Since I didn’t have my bag, I wouldn’t be able to change into something clean and dry until we reached our final destination.

  I turned in my seat and looked down the aisle to Greg, remembering that I wanted to ask him about my suitcase. “Greg,” I whispered loudly, but his eyes were closed and he looked as though he was asleep. I sighed. Nothing I could do about it now. I’d have to wait till we got to L.A. to ask him.

  ****

  We had a four-hour layover in Los Angeles until we caught our early morning connecting flight to Acapulco. The airport was quiet. We passed by small groups of sleeping travelers sprawled across the uncomfortable chrome and vinyl waiting-area chairs, their belongings spread around them like settlers in a fort holed up against attack by the Indians. Brenda and I headed straight to a restroom, to see if we could get some of the stain off my blouse. Greg got off the plane before we did, and wandered off in another direction to a magazine and candy counter.

  As we left the restroom, Brenda startled me by asking, “What’s he doing?”

  “Who?” I turned my head to see who she referred to and saw Greg down on his hands and knees on the floor. A young woman with long, bleached-blonde hair, stood next to him, biting at the fingernails on her left hand, with a worried frown on her face. She looked pretty, in an artificial way, with her tight designer jeans, high open-toed wedge shoes and tube top.

  Greg looked up at the sound of our footsteps and cried, “Stand back!” We stopped abruptly and looked at the blonde for an explanation.

  “I lost a contact,” she said simply and then ignored us as we stood there, unable to move lest we step on it. Then she plucked something out of her plunging neckline and giggled. “Oh gosh, here it is. I’m so sorry I put you to all that trouble,” she said to Greg in a sugary-sweet voice.

  He got up from the floor, dusting the dirt off his cream-colored uniform slacks and then his hands. “Oh that’s all right. No trouble at all.” He smiled at her.

  Before he could say more to her, I cut in and asked, “Did you check my bag all the way through?”

  “Me? Why would I check your bag?” He looked confused.

  “Didn’t you take it with you to the gate? It wasn’t in the back room when I looked.”

  “I took it down to the gate for you, but I figured you’d check it in when we got the okay to fly. Didn’t you see it on the floor where we waited?”

  “No. I was late, ’cause I tried to find my bag, and when I got to the gate, Brenda said you’d already boarded, so I assumed you’d checked it for me. You mean you didn’t? My voice rose. “So where is it?”

  “Uh, maybe still at Sea-Tac?” Greg looked sheepish.

  “All I have to wear is what I have on?” I gestured.

  “Maybe you could wear some of my clothes,” Brenda offered.

  “Thanks, but I’ll find something when we get to Acapulco,” I told her. Yeah right. She was a size eight and I was a twelve. What else could go wrong on this vacation?

  ****

  The first thing I noticed when we stepped off the plane in Acapulco was the oppressive heat. Sweat trickled down my forehead. Our polyester uniforms kept us warm in the chilly dawn of Los Angeles in October, but in this tropical climate, they were too much. I could hardly wait to get some cooler clothes.

  We finally made it through Customs—at least I had kept my tourist card in my purse—then Greg and I helped Brenda drag her three large suitcases outside the airport terminal into the blazing sun and hailed one of the beat-up, windowless cabs.

  “Holiday Inn,” Greg told the driver.

  “Sí, sí.” The cabbie gave us a sparse-toothed grin.

  I don’t know where the cabbie learned to drive. If the cab even had brakes, he didn’t use them. The car hurtled along the narrow, cliff-hugging roads with barely room enough for one vehicle, let alone two. I looked at Brenda and the fear in her eyes probably mirrored mine. I would have closed my eyes but didn’t want to miss out on the view. There was a spectacular picture-perfect view—the breathtakingly beautiful city of Acapulco set on a semi-circular bay, flanked by the Sierra Madres. The aquamarine bay and un-crowded white beaches were surrounded by elegant modern multi-storied hotels, flanked with palm trees and swimming pools. I’d learned from my guidebook that Acapulco was the nation’s oldest and best-known resort, often called, “the pearl of the Pacific.”

  ****

  After we checked into our luxurious rooms where signs on the water faucets warned us “don’t drink the water,” I headed for the beach with Brenda and Greg in my bare feet. I’d managed to find some short shorts and a top that barely fit, in the hotel’s small and expensive gift shop— why did they think only small women needed beach wear—and now my budget was shot from buying clothes I hadn’t planned to spend money on. I’d put back the sandals that would have fit me, and settle for some practical shoes I could wear everywhere. I should have worn them down from the room because the white sand burned. I ran to one of the thatched umbrellas, threw my hotel room towel onto the shaded sand under it, and leaped onto it.

  ****

  At night, the city came alive. Every grand hotel offered nightly entertainment, including the dance-till-dawn discos. Our first night there, strolling musicians playing acoustic guitars serenaded us while we dined in the hotel’s outdoor restaurant and then we listened to a small mariachi band.

  “Isn’t this romantic?” Brenda sighed. “This would be a great place for a honeymoon.” I merely nodded.

  Greg suggested, “Let’s try the nightclub on the hotel’s top floor.” Before we could even look at the menu and choose our drinks, the waiter came over with three huge margaritas the size of fishbowls. “These are from Seῆor Alvarez with his compliments.” He tipped his head in the direction of a large round table nearby.

  Brenda smiled over at the man seated there and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He stood and walked toward us.

  “What should I say?” Brenda whispered. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

  Before I could answer, he’d reached our table, and looking at Brenda, asked in perfect English, “May I?” When she nodded, he pulled up a chair, sat down and stared at her.

  “My name is Ricardo Alvarez. Welcome to Acapulco.” He spoke to all of us, but only looked at Brenda. He waved the waiter over and ordered a chilled bottle of champagne.

  ****

  It was nice to have a high-powered accountant like Ricardo in our company; he got top attention and service at the hotels. The next evening, Ricardo asked the three of us to the most elaborate and popular discotheque in town, La Danza. It was brightly-lit by multi-colored neon lights that flashed to the music’s beat, and packed with people of all nationalities. Greg joined the dancing throng and Brenda and Ricardo got up to dance too.

  Ricardo politely asked me to dance with him, but I knew he’d rather be with Brenda, so I made up some excuse not to. I could see the relief on his face, as he turned then to Brenda and smiled.

  “Are you sure, Dee?” Brenda asked. She must be worried that I wasn’t having fun. She looked around. “Where’s Greg?”

  I waved my hand in the direction of the crowded dance floor. “Over there. He hasn’t let the language barrier stop him. You go have fun. I’m just going to enjoy my drink and soak up the atmosphere to remember when we get back home.”

  “Well okay, if you’re sure...” But Ricardo grabbed her hand and led her off to dance. I sat at the one of the two small tables pushed together, and stared at the gyrating bodies dancing to the beat of KC and the Sunshine Band’s “Get Down Tonight,” under the spinning disco ball. The 70’s were alive and well in Mexico. I would have liked to dance—if I knew how.

  Greg came back to our table then, and held out his han
d to me. “Ready to dance?”

  “Uhh...” I thought quickly. “If I had the right clothes, I’d love to. But I could only afford to buy one nice dress at the gift shop and it doesn’t exactly fit. I’m afraid if I dance, it will come apart at the seams right out there on the dance floor.”

  “Sure, I can see what you mean. That dress is pretty tight,” he replied, eyeing me up and down, “but I have no complaints. Hey, listen. They’re playing our song, ‘Dance With Me’ by Orleans.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, obviously determined to ignore my stalling methods. “I won’t do anything fancy. Come on, you gotta have fun sometime.”

  I’d step on his feet. At least with a fast song, I could probably fake it. I mentally kicked myself for letting him pull me out here.

  “Smile, Dee. You look way too serious. We’re here to have fun, remember?” Greg said as he took me in his arms.

  I looked around at the other couples on the floor. I tried to remember what my dad practiced with me when I was a teenager, before I went to my first school dance. I’d danced little since then.

  “Relax,” Greg coaxed in my ear. He led me around the floor to the rhythm of the music, but I knew I must look stiff and awkward.

  “I guess I’m a little rusty.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He moved my arms so they were around his neck, and put his around my waist. “Just close your eyes and relax. Let yourself feel the music.”

  With his arms around me, and my eyes closed, I finally relaxed. His aftershave smelled yummy. Acqua di Gio? Yum. I opened my eyes briefly to find his warm brown gaze looking down into mine. I smiled and he pulled me even closer, and dipped his head. I raised mine to meet him with anticipation of his lips on mine...

  Rippppp.

  “Oh no!” I gasped at the side seam of my dress split wide open.

  Greg grinned and looked me up and down, enjoying the show. “I could have guessed that you had more curves than that dress could handle.”