The Transient Wife

Chapter 13

"I'm going out," Cassandra stated hours later.

"You just got back," Philip said. He was still hunched over his computer with papers spread out over the coffee table.

"I'm going to have dinner and go to this club..." she said, tightening the string of her two-piece behind her neck.

"You're going out like that," he stated wryly.

"It's Boracay. People go out wearing stuff like this everywhere. Haven't you been to L.A.? Don't tell me you've never been to any beach party."

"Actually, yes, I've been to L.A., but this is a strange place, Cassandra. You don't just go out wearing something that invites trouble." And he belatedly added, "And no, I haven't been to any beach party."

Cassandra whirled around in surprise. "No, like never?"

"Yes."

"You're missing half of your life," she shrugged and started for the door. Her anger had subsided hours ago, but she was not going to let him know that. The tension between them was still there, and so let it be.

"I'm going with you," that one shocked her even more.

"You are? Why?"

He stared at her for a second, and then his gaze went down to look at her outfit. She was wearing a pair of plain white bikini and short denim shorts. She was planning to stroll barefooted. And as he looked at her, his face was unreadable but his eyes looked like he was ready to pounce and devour her. Unnerving but gratifying at the same time.

"What?" she asked him again when he failed to answer. That snapped him to his senses.

"I also need dinner...and a drink."

"Fine. Go get ready."

"I'm good to go," he stood up and walked with her to the door. He was wearing the same light-gray shirt and knee-length black board shorts and his black sandals.

Cassandra didn't know why her heart began to hammer as they walked out the hotel. She was going out to dinner and drinks with Philip, and something told her she had to put up guard to her already surging feminine senses. She of all people knew how alcohol could make you do things you only dream about.

*****

"Why beer?" he asked an hour later.

"Because I like it. Do I really need to explain that?"

"This one is good," he said, holding and examining his own bottle of Red Horse.

"And strong too," she reminded, "so take it slow."

"Yeah, I believe you. You've been enough evidence of that." The beer helped them both relax and enjoy the moment and the music. They sat outside the bar where some cushions were available for those who wanted to be away from the crowd. For the first time, they chose to forget they needed to fight and do crazy things to each other.

The beer helped, Philip thought.

"You've been here before?" he asked.

"Hmm... yes, for a couple of days. My..." she cut off her sentence and there it was again—that weird look on her face. "...but my companion and I chose to go home early the last time. There has been some kind of fire in this area."

Philip nodded and leaned back, his hands behind him on the sand. There had been a man in her life. He was certain of it now. But the atmosphere and the two bottles of beer made him choose not to pry.