Her hair was still wet from the water and beads of sweat were trickling down her exposed, tan skin. Her curves were impressive and the swimsuit barely contained them. She looked like she might burst out at various places any second. Jessie tried not to stare as they passed and wondered if Kyle was doing the same.
“Damn fine ass on that one,” she heard Teddy say a few seconds later.
Jessie stiffened involuntarily, not just at the crudeness but because the girl would have almost certainly been close enough to hear it. She was tempted to turn around and give him a scowl when she heard Kyle’s voice.
“Right?” he added, snickering like a schoolboy.
She stopped in her tracks. As Kyle reached her, she grabbed his forearm. Teddy stopped too, a surprised look on his face.
“Go ahead, Teddy,” she said, putting a plastic smile on her face. “I just need my man for a sec.”
Teddy gave Kyle a knowing expression before moving on without comment. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she turned to her husband.
“I know he’s your friend from high school,” she whispered. “But do you think you could not act like you’re still there?”
“What?” he asked defensively.
“That girl probably heard Teddy and his leering tone. Then you go egging him on? Not cool.”
“It’s not that big a deal, Jess,” he insisted. “He was just making a little crack. Maybe she was flattered.”
“And maybe she was creeped out. Either way, I’d rather my husband not reinforce the ‘woman as sex object’ meme. Is that a reasonable request?”
“Jeez. Is this how you’re going to react every time a girl in a bathing suit walks by?”
“I don’t know, Kyle. Is that how you’re going to react?”
“You guys coming?” Teddy shouted up at them. The Carlisles were a good fifty steps farther down the stairs.
“Coming,” Kyle yelled back before lowering his voice. “That is, if you’re still cool with it.”
He moved on before she could reply, taking the steps two at a time. Jessie forced herself to take a long, slow breath before following him, hoping she could exhale her frustration along with the air in her lungs.
We’re not even fully moved in and he’s starting to turn into the kind of asshole I’ve tried to avoid my whole life.
Jessie tried to remind herself that one lame comment while under the influence of a high school friend didn’t mean her husband was suddenly becoming a Philistine. But she couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that this was only the beginning.
CHAPTER THREE
Five minutes later, with Jessie still silently seething, they walked into the lobby of the Club Deseo, getting some much-needed air-conditioned relief from the already warm day. Jessie looked around, taking the place in. She couldn’t help but think that the name, which according to Teddy meant “Club of Wishes,” was a little grandiose, considering what was in front of her.
She’d almost missed the club’s entrance, a large, unmarked, weathered oak door attached to a modest-looking structure on the quieter edge of the harbor. The lobby itself was nondescript, with a simple hostess stand currently manned by a gorgeous, industrious-looking brunette in her early twenties.
Teddy leaned over and spoke to her quietly. She nodded and indicated for the group to pass through a small hallway. It was only when another, equally beautiful young blonde woman asked her to put her purse in a basket that Jessie realized the hall also doubled as a classy metal detector.
Once through the hallway, the woman returned her bag and indicated that she should follow the others through a second wood-paneled door that seemed to blend into the wall beside it. If she’d been alone, she might have missed the door completely.
After they stepped through that second door, all the modesty of the building’s lobby quickly faded away. The cavernous circular room she was staring at had two levels. The top, where she was, had tables encircling and looking down on the lower level, which was accessed by a wide staircase.
The lower level had a small central dance floor surrounded by multiple tables. The entire place looked to have been designed using repurposed wood from old sailing vessels. Planks right beside each other, which comprised the walls, had different grades and colors. The hodgepodge shouldn’t have worked but somehow did, giving the space a nautical vibe that felt reverential, not shticky.
At the far end of the room was the most impressive feature. The entire ocean-facing side of the club was comprised of a massive glass window, half of which was above water, half below. Depending on where one sat, the view could be of the horizon or schools of fish swimming below the surface. It was incredible.
They were led to a large table on the lower level, where a group of about fifteen people awaited them. Teddy and Mel introduced them around but Jessie didn’t even try to remember the names. She learned that there were four couples, with about seven children split among them.
Instead, she smiled and nodded politely as each of them pummeled her with more information than she could process.
“I’m in social media marketing,” someone named either Roger or Richard told her. He fidgeted constantly and picked his nose when he thought no one was looking.
“We’re choosing wall rugs right now,” said the woman next to him, a brunette with blonde streaks in her hair who may or may not have been his wife but who definitely had eyes for the tan guy across the table.
It went on like that. Mel introduced someone. Jessie made no serious attempt to remember their name but instead tried to glean something about their true nature based on their looks, body language, and speaking style. It was a kind of game, one she employed often in uncomfortable situations.
After the introductions, two more pretty young girls swept in and collected all the kids, including Daughton, to take them to Pirate’s Cove, which one of the wives told her was the name of the youth fun zone. Jessie assumed it must have been pretty great because every child left without even a hint of separation anxiety.
Once they were gone, the meal proceeded much as Mel had warned her. Two women who were either twins or looked so similar that they might as well have been, told a story about a religious summer camp that was primarily about the terrible singing voice of the praise leader.
“She sounded like she was about to give birth,” one of them said as the other cackled appreciatively. To the extent that she paid any attention, Jessie got lost as they interrupted and spoke over each interminably.
A guy with a shock of long curly hair and a bolo tie he was way too enamored with recounted the particulars of a hockey game he’d attended last spring. But there was nothing memorable about it. The entire five-minute story was comprised of who scored goals when. Jessie kept waiting for a twist, like when an octopus was thrown on the ice or a fan jumped the wall. But there was no twist.
“Anyway, it was an awesome game,” he finally concluded, which she knew was her cue to smile appreciatively.
“Best. Story. Ever,” Mel said dryly under her breath, giving Jessie her only happy moment so far and something close to a second wind.
Much
