Room with a View

Chapter 11 - Manager's Part continued

Miller sat up as Billy and her companion approached the bar. He felt light-headed looking at her. Mendoza was bang on; she was stunning. His eyes moved to the man and he took in the styled hair, the smooth shaven skin and the haughty elegance of his bearing. He hated him instantly. Hated his clothes. Hated his obvious wealth. Hated his age. He looked back at Billy and saw she was looking at his drink with an amused expression.

"Are you up to your old tricks, Mendoza," she asked, in Spanish.

"Simply trying to salvage a wounded heart." He replied pointedly.

Miller watched the exchange pleased to see that Mister Gentleman's Quarterly didn't understand either.

Billy flushed slightly and avoided Miller's eyes. "Two vodka martinis, por favor."

"Si, senorita. Immediatamente."

Billy sat on a stool facing Miller and her companion sat between them, with his back to him, blocking the view. She hadn't even suggested that she knew him and he felt small and angry. This was her at work. This was ignoring him because she was too busy 'escorting' to even pretend she knew him. He took a long sip of his drink and instantly regretted the act.

The liquid seared its way to his stomach and then returned with volcanic vengeance in the form of a projectile spew of blue liquid all over the back of the man's white blazer. Miller staggered from the stool toward the pool clutching his mouth and was only rescued at the very last moment by a strong hand on his arm. He spun around and found Billy glaring at him as she hauled him back to the bar stool and stuffed a handful of napkins in his hand to clean up the mess he'd made on his face and clothes.

Winston was up and spinning around with his arms hung out, cursing and shouting "Jesus Christ, you- you . . . moron!" The man shrieked, as he ripped off his blue stained jacket and waved it out at arm's length. The crowd on the patio had quieted when the shouting started and all attention was on the pool bar. Murmurs of surprise and confusion hung in the air.

Shelia could barely conceal her surprisingly secret pleasure in seeing Winston humiliated in front of everyone but she also knew he would never let it rest there. It was not a good place to be. She set her drink on the tray of a passing waiter and drifted away from the crowd and off the patio.

Glenda turned from the group she was with to watch Gary, standing with another couple, as he in turn watched Shelia leaving the patio and taking the walkway past the resort stores. She also noticed the quickly shared glance between them-guilt with a whipped cream topping. Hector had been right and she began to consider how best to capitalize on the situation. Gary shuffled his feet and showed a nervous smile when he saw her looking at him and strolled casually over to stand next to her.

"Looks like Mister Big is a very unhappy camper."

"It would appear."

"I'm not getting very far with his assistant; I don't think she's gonna come up with much that'll help after all." The deliberate reference to Shelia almost made her laugh. His pathetic attempt to make his actions sound like a business plan was priceless.

"I imagine she will provide you with something." Glenda set her empty glass down on a patio table and picked another from a passing waiter. Gary shot her a glance. "At any rate, I think his business talk is done for the evening," she said, referring to the irate Winston Graves across the pool. "I won't be learning much from him the rest of this evening," She drifted away leaving Gary alone and flustered.

********

"Good evening, Hector." Glenda smiled, coming up beside him.

"Senorita." He removed the freshly lit cigarillo from his mouth, wet his lips and glanced about guiltily. Helen was close by, anxiously diverting staff to various operations as she awaited the appearance of Carlos.