Getaway Girlz (31 page)

“That would mess up my sunbathing, and I can’t have that,” Vivian said. “Plus, I put some on earlier. And, I have darker pigmentation than you.”

“Yeah, yeah. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Pass the sunscreen, please,” Kate said.

“I’ll take the 15,” Wendy said. “I sunbathe semi-responsibly. My olive skin can take it.”

“Wrinkles,” Kate said in a sing-song voice.

Wendy ignored her.

Vivian reached under her seat, dug around in the sand and found her sunglasses. “That’s what these are for.” She gave them a good shake and slid them onto her face. A few granules dug in. Back home, she cherished a peaceful moment like this.
As if I’d let a little sand bother me now
.

Next thing she knew she was in the middle of an earthquake dream. Her body shook but not the ground, she realized.

“Up! Up! Up!”

Do they have earthquakes in Playa del Carmen
? she thought.

“Viv, you are sunburned,” Wendy said. “Your pale scale has shot up dramatically. Unfortunately, I’m afraid it will probably peel off in about five days.”

Groggy, Vivian pulled off her sunglasses. “Huh?”

“I’m not going in public with her like that,” she heard someone say.

“What? Like what? What happened?” she demanded, still half asleep.

Lucy sat down on the end of her lounger. “Viv, you should’ve reapplied.”

“I fell asleep. How bad is it?” She looked at the three of them. They stared back at her, trying not to laugh.

“Oh my god, I must look ridiculous.”

“The raccoon eyes are not that bad,” Kate responded, covering her smile.

“Oh crap. Let’s get up to our room so I can assess the damage.”

They gathered their stuff and traipsed up to the room. Vivian went directly to the bathroom and closed the door.

“Holy crap,” she said, staring at the crimson glow reflecting off the mirror.

“Viv, your face is not so bad,” Kate comforted through the door. “You can probably cover it up with make-up.”

“Make-up, my ass,” Wendy commented. “It would take the entire town of Cover Girl to blend her eyes in with her face.”

“I can hear you!” Vivian yelled.
What am I going to do
? she thought desperately. She looked at herself and all she could see was red (95 percent) and a bit of white (eyeballs included). Apparently, thinking she had a good base tan was a misconception.

Lucy stood outside the door. “Viv, there’s not a lot you can do. You’ve damaged your skin. You need to just let it breathe. It’ll heal faster.”

“But we’ve got this party tonight,” Vivian called. “I can’t go like this.”

“It’ll be dark. No one will notice,” Kate tried to reassure her.

You’d have to be blind not to
.

“You need aloe lotion,” Wendy said. “Use mine, it’s on the counter.”

“Viv, lots of tourists come down here and get raccoon eyes. No worries,” Lucy said, then continued her thought, “I’m going to call Pierre’s room and make sure he’s getting ready to go with us.”

“Okay.” Vivian glanced at herself in the mirror again. It wasn’t often she wished for the wet-bar mirrors from home with their two-tone, tacky squiggles, but right now they’d offer a distraction.

She took a cool shower with super light water pressure and slathered on the aloe. She was hot, so she wrapped herself loosely in a towel and lay down on the bed while the other girls got cleaned up. After a second application of aloe, she dressed delicately, being wary of the redness all over, especially between her boobs and near her armpits. Those areas were an even more unnatural shade of red. Her softest dress barely touched the tip of her nose as it slipped over her head. “Oooouch!”

Not a good sign
.

She returned to the bathroom and fixed her hair and put on make-up as best she could. “Well?” she asked the girls.

“You did better than I coulda done with those eyes,” Wendy said, nodding approval.

“That has got to hurt,” Kate said.

“I have to admit, you will stand out,” Lucy said. “No way around it.”

Great
.

Vivian looked at herself one last time in the mirror, resigned. “I may be red and look like a raccoon, but I’m ready to kick some ass!”

WENDY AND Kate looked cute in their sundresses and sandals and Lucy in her sundress and FMPs. Vivian felt self-conscience in her redness.

Pierre waited for them in the lobby. He hugged everyone but stopped short when he got to Vivian. “Forget to reapply?”

“I had myself a little
siesta
.”

“I told her to reapply,” Lucy chided.

Vivian growled, which was not something she usually did unless she was reading a book to her kids, but this called for it. She thought she sounded a little like her dog, Cooper.

Pierre put his hands up. “Sunburned or not, you still look good.”

On their way out, they asked the guy at the front desk how to find Julio’s house. He gave them directions on a sticky note.

“Apparently everyone does know where Shorty lives.” Wendy slid her sunglasses on.

Pierre helped them muscle through the paparazzi and the girls surrounded Vivian, helping to protect her sunburn and keep the vultures from getting to her. None of them responded to the questions thrown at them.

They made it to the car without incident and Vivian got in the passenger seat, cringing at the thought of fastening her seatbelt. Pierre took the back seat with Wendy and Kate, humpin’ it again.

Wendy saw the seatbelt hesitation and said, “Buckle up for safety, Viv!”

No sympathy
.

She grabbed it and gently pulled it across her lap.

Designate driver, Lucy, barreled toward the exit of the parking lot, eager to run over any paparazzi who got in the way. Several blocked the exit, but then jumped aside at the last moment. “Jackasses,” she muttered under her breath.

Lucy had the directions stuck to the console above the useless air conditioning vent. Vivian concentrated on holding the lap belt up off her thighs. Kate pointed out what she considered architectural marvels, which Vivian thought looked like they were about to fall down. Wendy shook her head to the beat of music that only she could hear. Pierre looked like he was trying to minimize the impact from the bumps in the road.

They stopped at a light and some kids ran up to their car selling gum. Lucy rolled down her window and bought some to be nice. “Gotta support the local economy,” she said.

I would have bought some if I could move
, Vivian thought. She saw one turn and whisper to the other. Then they both turned and looked at her, laughing.
Never mind, I’m not that sorry anymore
.

Lucy pulled through the intersection and Wendy informed her, “I think we’re being followed again by that Lupe woman. You going to try and lose her?”

“I can’t drive like Dale Earnhardt back there.” She hooked a thumb toward Kate.

Pierre reached forward and touched Lucy’s arm. “If I have to, I’ll get rid of her once we get to the party.”

I think he likes Lucy just a little
. Vivian thought and smiled to herself.

They wound their way around Playa del Carmen and came to a sandy road leading to a monstrosity of a house, situated on a long stretch of beach. There were no neighbors within sight. Shorty must like his privacy.

The narrow road was already lined with cars half a mile from the house. Lucy mercifully dropped Vivian, Wendy and Kate off at the circular driveway in front, as Vivian’s long distance walking abilities were questionable considering her skin tone. Pierre volunteered to stay with Lucy.

Kate stared in awe at the house. By the look on her face, Vivian thought she might drool.

“Damn, he must be doin’ pretty well selling tequila,” Wendy said. “Or whatever it is that he sells.”

“I’d say so,” Kate stammered. “Do you know how much that cost?” She pointed to the entrance. “That’s what you call a structural glass wall. See those plates of glass behind the window? Those are glass columns. Nice.”

She was right, it was awesome. The all-glass entrance was two stories high and flanked by two walls clad in white marble, and not the tiled crap. Just above the door hung a slender glass canopy suspended by thin, stainless steel rods. The rest of the house was white stucco, not crusty but troweled to a smooth finish.

“That kinda reminds me of the white fondant on my wedding cake,” Vivian said and laughed. “Makes me want to lick the walls.”

On both sides of the entrance, two pair of tropical wood trellises nestled into the garden. Cast concrete columns that Kate described as “very Japanese modern” supported the trellises and provided a spot to tie back the white drapes. A loveseat under each pod completed the resort-style cabanas.

They found a nice bench near the front door made of matching marble. Vivian’s butt melted into it like butter.

“Ahhh…nice and cool,” Vivian said. “My butt is happy. The rest of me, not so much.”

A steady ‘thump thump thump’ came from the house, and Vivian saw some skinny, tan (not sunburned), scantily clad girls through the window behind them.

Great
, Vivian thought.
Hoochie mommas
.

Vivian heard giggling and made out Lucy and Pierre coming down the road. She watched Lucy push off Pierre in a playful manner.

“Looks like they enjoyed the walk,” Kate said, watching them too.

Lucy was all smiles as she walked up the grandiose entrance. “Wow! This is some house.”

Vivian pointed to Kate. “She’s in architecture loooooove.”

“It’s true,” Kate said. “I admit, I’m fantasizing.”

Pierre cocked an eyebrow at her.

“All fantasies include my husband, not Shorty!”

“Where’s Lupe?” Wendy asked, changing the subject.

“She turned down the sandy road with us and parked way back,” Lucy said.

“We had to park all the way back there, too and I gave her my best intimidating glare as we walked past her car,” Pierre said.

“So she was just sitting in her car?” Vivian asked.

“Yep, and on the phone.”

“Calling for reinforcements, no doubt,” Kate said.

“Great,” Wendy said and turned toward the door. “Shall we?”

“How’s my make-up?” Vivian asked, feeling her cherry red face turn even cherrier at the question.

“I think it may have melted off,” Kate said reluctantly.

“No, it didn’t,” Lucy responded. “You look fine. Let’s go in.”

Two guys walked up to the porch while they were discussing Vivian’s make-up and walked in the door.

“Looks like this is a house-is-a-rockin’-don’t-bother-knockin’ kinda party.” Vivian stood up and clapped. “Let’s get to it.”

Pierre reached for the door handle and pushed it open.

“Ladies first.”

ACCORDING TO Kate, Shorty had left no architectural detail unturned. The solid aluminum door handle floated out from the glass and was cast in the shape of a long piece of driftwood, a nod to nature in the slick modern façade, she pointed out. The interior was a complete 180 from the cheesiness of his boat.

Crisp white abstract furniture hovered above a sand-colored terrazzo floor dotted with chips of sea green marble. Above their heads, the white coved ceiling softly changed to a pale blue as it stretched out to the ocean into a wide cantilevered canopy. The transition to the exterior was seamless as the 15-foot sliding folding doors tucked away into a pocketed stack on one side.

“This place is fanccccyyy.” Vivian was shocked by, first, the sheer number of people who were there, and second, the house itself. She figured Shorty would have a place straight out of gaudy land. Not so. This place was sleek, modern and totally fabulous.

Kate stopped and stared at what she said appeared to be a Chihuly original suspended from the 30-foot foyer. It was triple-tiered and a tangle of greens and blues like a knotted-up giant jellyfish.

“Holy crap. I could pay off all my student loans for what that cost,” she said.

They made their way through the living room dotted with delicate glass tables on spindly chrome legs. Lucy couldn’t resist and stopped at the sofa.

“Ooohhh la la...B&B Italia!” She sank gracefully onto a long white sofa.

“I think I will join ya, Lucy.” Kate sat down gently and ran her fingers along the curved arm of the sofa.

“You ladies look right at home.” Pierre grinned, watching their delight.

Glass screens etched with a kelp pattern divided the room into several seating areas. The panels were transparent and spotless and had changing LED lighting at the top and bottom, creating a sort of tasteful-disco atmosphere.

“Thank god for those lights,” Vivian said and laughed. “I’d totally be one of those shmucks who runs right into ’em because they’re so clean.”

“What about the pattern?” Wendy asked.

“Oh, that wouldn’t stop me,” Vivian admitted. “I’ve run into more obvious.”

Wendy turned to Lucy and Kate, who were still caressing the couch. “No drooling on the furniture,” she said and offered Lucy, then Kate, a helping hand out of their lounging positions. She about-faced to the kitchen-turned-bar. “It’s time to get a drink!”

The kitchen was space age with sleek, seamless appliances and large integral sinks with the smooth white countertop. Standing at the eight-foot island was a young Hispanic knockout of a girl, playing bartender.

“Can I get you something?” she asked.

She was surrounded by all sorts of liquor, but lots and lots of Tiempo Loco tequila.

They conferred and Wendy listed off what everyone wanted. “Cosmo for Kate, piña colada for Lucy, margarita for me and a beer for Viv,
por favor
.”

“Where’s Pierre?” Lucy asked.

“Dunno,” Kate said. “Guess he wandered off. I’m sure he can fend for himself.”

The bartender mixed up the cocktails and placed them on the counter.

“
Gracias
,” Vivian said, grabbing the beer. She squeezed in a lime, then threw it back for medicinal purposes.