look in his eyes betrayed far less platonic feelings blended with almost palpable concern.
Inside her room, Herculea rang the front desk. She recognized the voice of the man who answered as the one who had woken her up earlier in the morning. “This is Herculea Sanchez in room 518.”
“Yes, Miss Sanchez. How may I help you?”
“I received the package. Do you know who it is from? “
The phone line was silent except for the delicate crackling of sound waves.
The man sighed deeply and finally responded. “I am not at liberty to tell you that.”
The line went dead a second later.
Herculea was flabbergasted. The man’s response had been completely unacceptable---and a little scary. Herculea slipped out of her robe and shuffled over to the bathroom. Hurriedly, she lathered guava shampoo into her grimy hair, soaping her skin with furious circular motions. She needed to keep her promise to Kent and make it to breakfast in less than a half hour. But first she would go to the front desk and confront the employee who had hung up on her.
There would be no time to blow dry and style her hair. She would have to let it air dry, even though it would look like a riotous mess in the Brazilian humidity. Choosing a cotton dress and slipping into a pair of matching flip flops, Herculea quickly ran a brush through her thick waves and ran out of the room towards the elevator.
She hated elevators. They made her claustrophobic, and she had spent far too much time indoors recently. Longingly, Herculea shut her eyes to drown out the strident beeping of the elevator and replace it with the soothing whir of ocean waves. This trip doesn’t have to be all business , she told herself. In fact, I’m long overdue for a vacation. Maybe in the afternoon I could take a taxi to the beach and stretch out under the sun, even do a few yoga poses on the sand.
The elevator door opened at lobby level, jolting Herculea back to reality. She ran towards the front desk. The lobby was vast and reminded her of the ostentatious dance hall Pedro had taken her to. It had not even been a week ago, yet it felt like an eternity. She tried to get her bearings in this astrodome of a lobby that jutted out to all four corners of the hotel. She didn’t know what direction to take, and there didn’t seem to be any signs.
A slightly amused voice spoke to her from behind. “Do you like the necklace?”
Immediately recognizing the deep-timbered Spanish accent, she whirled around and found herself face to face with Pedro.
Chapter 5
Pedro took several methodical steps forward until he was practically mouth to mouth with Herculea. Astonished, she rubbed her eyes to see if it was really Pedro standing before her, or just a mirage formulated in her head as a result of too much travel and too little nourishment.
“I asked you if you like the necklace,” Pedro coaxed, cocking his head to the side and favoring her with a confident grin.
Herculea was speechless. The room began to spin around her, and she desperately needed a drink of water. What was he doing here? He was relentless in appraising her, just as he had been since the moment they met at the gym back in San Francisco.
“The necklace was from you?”
His eyes sparkled more brilliantly than the sapphires as he easily replied, “Of course. So much better than a text message, don’t you think?” He winked at her as his grin broadened.
“What?” She asked in confusion.
“After the night we shared, I knew that you are no ordinary woman. So I had to do something extraordinary for you. I thought about sending flowers to your office, but that is much too cliché. And of course a text message or voicemail wouldn’t be good enough. So, I selected the necklace for you. The colors complement your honey skin beautifully.”
Herculea listened to his excessive flattery in stark disbelief.
Inside her room, Herculea rang the front desk. She recognized the voice of the man who answered as the one who had woken her up earlier in the morning. “This is Herculea Sanchez in room 518.”
“Yes, Miss Sanchez. How may I help you?”
“I received the package. Do you know who it is from? “
The phone line was silent except for the delicate crackling of sound waves.
The man sighed deeply and finally responded. “I am not at liberty to tell you that.”
The line went dead a second later.
Herculea was flabbergasted. The man’s response had been completely unacceptable---and a little scary. Herculea slipped out of her robe and shuffled over to the bathroom. Hurriedly, she lathered guava shampoo into her grimy hair, soaping her skin with furious circular motions. She needed to keep her promise to Kent and make it to breakfast in less than a half hour. But first she would go to the front desk and confront the employee who had hung up on her.
There would be no time to blow dry and style her hair. She would have to let it air dry, even though it would look like a riotous mess in the Brazilian humidity. Choosing a cotton dress and slipping into a pair of matching flip flops, Herculea quickly ran a brush through her thick waves and ran out of the room towards the elevator.
She hated elevators. They made her claustrophobic, and she had spent far too much time indoors recently. Longingly, Herculea shut her eyes to drown out the strident beeping of the elevator and replace it with the soothing whir of ocean waves. This trip doesn’t have to be all business , she told herself. In fact, I’m long overdue for a vacation. Maybe in the afternoon I could take a taxi to the beach and stretch out under the sun, even do a few yoga poses on the sand.
The elevator door opened at lobby level, jolting Herculea back to reality. She ran towards the front desk. The lobby was vast and reminded her of the ostentatious dance hall Pedro had taken her to. It had not even been a week ago, yet it felt like an eternity. She tried to get her bearings in this astrodome of a lobby that jutted out to all four corners of the hotel. She didn’t know what direction to take, and there didn’t seem to be any signs.
A slightly amused voice spoke to her from behind. “Do you like the necklace?”
Immediately recognizing the deep-timbered Spanish accent, she whirled around and found herself face to face with Pedro.
Chapter 5
Pedro took several methodical steps forward until he was practically mouth to mouth with Herculea. Astonished, she rubbed her eyes to see if it was really Pedro standing before her, or just a mirage formulated in her head as a result of too much travel and too little nourishment.
“I asked you if you like the necklace,” Pedro coaxed, cocking his head to the side and favoring her with a confident grin.
Herculea was speechless. The room began to spin around her, and she desperately needed a drink of water. What was he doing here? He was relentless in appraising her, just as he had been since the moment they met at the gym back in San Francisco.
“The necklace was from you?”
His eyes sparkled more brilliantly than the sapphires as he easily replied, “Of course. So much better than a text message, don’t you think?” He winked at her as his grin broadened.
“What?” She asked in confusion.
“After the night we shared, I knew that you are no ordinary woman. So I had to do something extraordinary for you. I thought about sending flowers to your office, but that is much too cliché. And of course a text message or voicemail wouldn’t be good enough. So, I selected the necklace for you. The colors complement your honey skin beautifully.”
Herculea listened to his excessive flattery in stark disbelief.
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