Bliss (7 page)

*   *   *

Walking into the Baray Hotel lobby was like going back in time to the Siam of
The King and I
with its draped, sumptuous, shining gold silk, blue and green ceramic tiles, the dazzling mosaic floor, and the intricately carved tables and chairs covered in red cushions. The lobby building was round, with a high domed ceiling, also painted gold, with murals of Buddha riding a tortoise across the sea, jumping orange fish, and a white monkey riding a white elephant through a dense bamboo and banana forest. Built into the floor in the center of the lobby, directly under the high point of the dome, was a reflecting pool lined with smooth gray rocks and dotted with pink water lilies. Fragrant orchids and lilies filled waist-high ceramic urns.

Leandra beheld the wonders. She decided that she would never leave the beautiful lobby. The private villas must be fit for an emperor. She couldn't wait to see one. A Thai woman in a red dress approached her. Leandra was about to say she was waiting for someone when Nick came into the domed lobby from another door.

“Right on time,” he said. “Sari wasn't feeling well. Too much sun, I think. She asked me to apologize.” Nick looked hot in jeans, a white shirt, and black Pumas.

“Too bad. I was looking forward to having both of you. I mean, having dinner with both of you.”

Nick's eyebrows went up. “You look lovely,” he said. “I'm glad Sari decided to stay in. I get you all to myself.”

“We'll see about that,” she said.

He grinned wolfishly. “We could eat here,” he said. Yes, please! Leandra asked the Sawasdee concierge about the Baray just to know what to wear. The concierge rhapsodized in broken English about the Baray's thousand-dollar fourteen-course tasting menu. “Or,” Nick continued, “since it's your first night in Thailand, we could walk around outside. You have
got
to experience the street food.”

Leandra masked her disappointment with a bright smile. Men didn't like whiners. Tonight, she'd be fun and easy and eat cheap. Tomorrow night, she'd push for fancy. “I love street food!” she said. “Lead the way.”

“Can you walk in those?” He pointed at her wedge espadrilles.

“I could climb a mountain in these.”

He led her out of the lobby, toward Kata Beach. At night, it was lit up with orange and red lanterns, string lights, and small bonfires along the shoreline. Several open-air restaurants were bustling with loud happy diners, the tables laden with platters of shrimp, noodles, fish, and tropical drinks. She thought he'd steer her into one, but he guided her (his hand on the small of her back) toward some food carts lined up on a side road. “Try the dumplings,” he said. He went to a particular cart and spoke to the vendor in Thai, who put some dumplings in a clear plastic bag, then scooped in spices and sauces, and plunked in a wooden stick. Nick handed her a bag, and showed her how to use the stick to pierce the dumpling, swish it around in the sauce, and pop it into her mouth.

She nearly died. It was that delicious. No way the $1,000 food could taste better than this. “Oh, my god,” she said, stabbing another dumpling with her stick and shoveling it in.

“Slow down,” said Nick. “We've got a lot of carts to cover.”

They spent an hour sampling shrimp on sticks, sticky rice balls, noodle soup (also served in a plastic bag), and pork skewers. Nick paid for everything, although it was all ridiculously cheap. Each bite was more incredible than the last. She had to laugh about the Toronto food-truck scene, how snobby and pretentious it was. Every single one of these Thai vendors with a two-wheel cart, pot of boiling water, and makeshift grill produced tastier goodies than the gourmet trucks in North America.

“Ready to sit?” Nick asked, wiping his delectable lips with a paper napkin.

Honestly, with a full belly, Leandra was ready to lie down. She hadn't been able to nap earlier, too excited about her plans for later. The traveling and sun were finally catching up with her. “I could use some coffee,” she said.

“In Thailand, we drink tea,” he said. He brought her to a small beach bar and ordered a pot of green tea. They drank and watched some kids and a few dogs run around on the sand.

“I'm so glad I'm here,” said Leandra, feeling genuinely grateful. Her parents worked hard to give her everything, and she hadn't always been as grateful as she should be. She felt far from home all of the sudden, and uncharacteristically emotional.

“You okay?”

She shook off that shock of sentimentality, and aimed her sexiest smile at Nick. “It's just so beautiful.”

He nodded, staring right at her. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

She willed him to lean toward her and make a move.
Do it! Kiss me NOW.

Nick sipped his tea. “I really admire you,” he said. “It takes a lot of courage to come halfway around the world by yourself, not knowing a soul in the whole country.”

“Oh, well, I do know someone here,” she said. Her mom insisted she take the phone number for her friend's nephew, an American who worked for a bank in Bangkok. Apparently, she met him once in New York, but he was so forgettable, she had no memory of him. “A family friend. I'm supposed to call him, but he's kind of a loser.”

Nick smiled. “So what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“Nothing yet. Any ideas?”

“Sari and I are renting a long-tail boat for a ride out to the Phi Phi Islands,” he said. “One of the islands is overrun with macaque monkeys. Whenever a boat pulls up, the monkeys swarm the beach, looking to be fed longan berries.”

She had no idea what a longan berry was, but whatever. “That's awesome!” she said. “Friendly monkeys?”

“Completely tame. They eat fruit right out of your hand. Why don't you come along? We can fit one more in the boat. Sari arranged a picnic lunch. We'll make a day of it. Monkeys, snorkeling, Singha.”

“You have no idea how much I love monkeys,” she said, beaming. “It's always been a fantasy of mine to feed a primate. Seriously! The closest I've come is throwing a pretzel to a squirrel.”

Nick stared at her mouth for a count of three, and then, finally, he came in for a kiss. His lips were warm from the tea, and he smelled like lemon and ginger. In a word: yummy. She'd never kissed an Asian man before. His cheeks were silken, and his hair, which she ran her fingers through, was thick as mink and just as soft. She sighed against his mouth, opening up, letting him in. His tongue was smooth and slippery as a mango. In one deft move, Nick pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly around her tiny waist. The only thing that stopped their kiss from going on forever was the cluck of the old woman behind the bar. Nick pulled back and rested his cheek against hers. “She doesn't approve,” he whispered in Leandra's ear.

She climbed off his lap, but couldn't let the moment pass unrecorded. “A quick selfie?” she asked, taking her phone out. He nodded and they posed, the beach behind them. Leandra immediately texted it to Sophia with the message, “In love with Phuket.” She wasn't trying to make her friend jealous or flaunt her new life while Sophia was flailing so horribly. But Leandra shouldn't have to tamp down her own happiness. That wasn't how friendship worked.

Smiling at the idea, Leandra said to Nick, “Let's go back to your place.” She had to see that villa! It probably had a king-size bed and a private pool right out the back door with jasmine and orange blossoms winding around a hidden terrace.

Nick frowned. “Sari's there.”

“She won't hear us.”

“She might,” he said. “I can't really relax with her nearby. It'd be too bizarre. You understand, right?” Oh, god, his accent when he said “bizarre.” It sounded like bizzz-ahhhhh. To die for.

“We could go back to my room,” she said hesitantly. “But don't judge me for what a dump it is. The pictures on the website are totally fake.”

He grinned. “I'll only be looking at you.”

“Let's go,” she said.

Leandra took off her shoes and they walked back along the beach, stopping every few minutes to make out. When they got to the hotel, they laughed as they ran past a worker fixing a crack in the lobby wall. As soon as they were safely alone in her room, they fell on the bed before they could turn on the lights. Neon street signs filtered in, giving the room a pink glow.

Nick said, “I want to give you a massage.”

“Okay,” she said, confused. “Should I be naked?”

“Not usually for a Thai massage, but why not?”

He peeled off her dress. He'd already seen most of her, the bikini leaving little to the imagination, but he gasped when he saw her breasts, like every man did. “Is there any part of you that's not perfect?”

She wished her feet were smaller, but she wasn't going to argue with him.

“Lie on your belly,” he instructed. He found some lotion in the bathroom, and started rubbing her shoulders and back. She hadn't realized how tense and stiff she was, probably from the flights. Nick's hands were masterful. Leandra sank into his touch as his fingers and knuckles loosened her muscles and inhibitions. Her breathing slowed, and she fought to stay awake. Nick said, “Just relax,” and that was it. Oblivion.

*   *   *

Leandra woke up to street sounds, some men yammering in Thai and a car horn. She jerked upright and checked the time. It was two
P.M.
She'd slept for twelve hours. “Nick?” she called out. No answer.

Damn. She must have fallen asleep last night while he gave her the massage. He probably realized she was out for the count, and left her to sleep off her jet lag. He'd even pulled the sheets up, thoughtfully. She was surprised he didn't stay. And why hadn't he called her room to wake her up for the long-tail boat ride? It was way past lunchtime. They probably went without her. Leandra decided to clean herself up, get something to eat, and go back to the Baray to track down her friends. She jumped in the shower, and stayed there for about forty-five minutes until the water ran cold, which annoyed her. What kind of hotel ran out of hot water? Three stars? In New York, it'd be lucky to get half a cockroach.

While she showered, Leandra planned her outfit. She'd wear her rainbow-striped bikini under a gray sleeveless shirtdress. It'd be a great reveal. Conservative dress and then,
BAM!,
a teeny bikini in bright colors. Her espadrilles got a workout last night with all that walking, and didn't look so great in daylight. She'd wear her silver sandals and bangles.

All dried off, Leandra went to the closet. She'd painstakingly hung up all her clothes yesterday so they didn't get wrinkled. But when she opened the closet door, it was empty.

She turned around, looking for her hard-shell silver suitcase at the foot of the bed. Maybe a maid put her stuff back into the suitcase? Why the hell would she do that? And when? She'd been in the room all day. Leandra couldn't find the suitcase either. It wasn't under the bed, or anywhere in the room.

In fact, nothing was in the room besides the furniture and other stuff that was bolted down. It seemed embarrassingly sparse, but then again, Leandra had thought that much when she got a first look at it before she unpacked.

Her bag with her wallet and phone and the key to the room safe … where the fuck was that? She tore the room apart, hunted every inch, but it wasn't there. Shaking with pure adrenaline, Leandra lurched back to the closet and checked the safe. The little key was in the lock, and the door was slightly ajar. She swung it open and found a black, empty space.

Her money—the $3,000 her parents gave her, plus another $1,000 of her own savings—
gone
.

Her passport—
gone
.

The diamond and gold jewelry she'd packed to catch the eye of wealthy men—
gone
.

Her open-return plane ticket—
gone
.

Leandra had been cleaned out. Everything she'd brought with her was stolen while she slept. Wearing just a towel, she ran out to the front desk and started screaming. A housekeeper and the concierge, a different woman from yesterday, followed her back to her room. Neither of them spoke English, but Leandra was able to get her message across. They looked around, as if they'd be able to find the stuff that was clearly gone.

“Yours?” asked the maid, holding Leandra's iPhone.

It was hidden in the bedsheets. She must have fallen asleep right on top of it. Leandra grabbed it and hugged it to her chest. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Leandra said, “What the fuck kind of security do you have here? Can anyone walk in and rob your guests blind? It's an outrage! I should sue!” Her rant about lax security went on for a while. The housekeeper and concierge nodded and grew smaller with every angry word they didn't understand. Someone came in with a beach sarong for Leandra to wear. Someone else brought fruit and a glass of green guava juice.

A man arrived who spoke English. “I'm Mr. Mookba, the manager,” he said, bowing. “Can you say what happened, please?”

She went over it again, waking up to find she'd been robbed. “I feel violated! This is the worst hotel in Phuket!”

“Forgive me, Ms. Hunting. A maintenance worker said you brought a young man to your room last night.”

“Oh, that's rich. The janitor was probably the thief! My friend could buy and sell this entire hotel ten times before breakfast.”

“This man has worked here for twenty years. He is not a thief.”

“Someone is! It's got to be one of the staff or a guest, unless you're saying someone could walk in off the street and right into my freakin' room.”

“Are you sure it wasn't the man you were with?”

That launched another high-volume rant from Leandra that ended with the challenge, “Call the Baray! Call them!”

The manager nodded. He went to her room phone and dialed. He spoke in Thai to the person who answered over there. To Leandra, he said, “What is your friend's name, please?”