David entered the room, placing a small bowl of salad in front of me.
“Thank you,” I said, picking up the fork and piercing a chunk of avocado.
“Hey, I'm sorry about earlier.”
“It's okay. I shouldn’t have let it upset me.”
“And I shouldn't have raised my voice at you, but I've been down that road so many times in the past. The bottom line is you have nothing to worry about.”
“Okay.”
Leaning against the wall by my desk, he chewed a mouthful of greens.
“I have a little surprise for you,” he said.
“What's that?”
“To be honest, it's a surprise for both of us. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.”
“Okay, now you're confusing me. What's going on?”
“Remember when I told you I’d like to live in Costa Rica someday.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that someday has arrived.”
“Wait, what? You're moving? When?”
“Next month,” he said between bites.
“You can't be serious. I guess I’ll have to move back to Vegas,” I sighed.
“But that's not what you want to do. You were miserable there.”
“Yeah, but I can't afford to stay here by myself. I just arrived and I don’t even have a job. I only have a tiny bit of savings. I don’t know anyone here.”
“I was hoping you’d come with me?”
“To another country?”
“Why not?”
“But what are we going to do? Where are we going to live?”
“I have it all figured out. There’s no need to worry.”
“It seems a bit daunting to me,” I rubbed the sides of my arms.
“How so?”
“First off, I don't know the language.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise. And you can learn the language; it’s easy. Besides, you’ll be much safer there with me.”
16
David
I almost lost her. We were up half the night discussing the pros and cons of moving to Costa Rica. It took some convincing on my part, but I couldn't answer all of her questions. I'm not a psychic; I can’t predict the future. I can only prepare for the things I’m aware of and the knowledge I’ve gained.
When I mentioned to Val that she wouldn't have to work and could focus on writing her books, she became leery. What if they don't sell? What if I run out of money? What if something happens to me? What if something happens to you? So many ‘what if’s' that my head was spinning. I told her life holds no guarantees. She could take a chance or never know.
We finally came to an agreement when I offered her a backup plan. In the worst-case scenario, if it didn't work out, I would pay for her plane ticket home. She would have her car full of personal belongings waiting for her to start over again if need be.
After three hours of sleep, the first thing Val did was call Cindy for advice. Now, here we are, a week later, and Cindy’s at the condo. She flew out for a few days to support her friend.
I sent them away earlier, treating them to a spa day—massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, the works. It will allow me to pack all of my essential items without them nosing around, asking a thousand questions. By the time they return to the condo, the goods will be locked up in suitcases, tucked safely away in my office, ready to go. I need to stay ahead of the game this time and not fall behind. One wrong move could cost a life.
When the gals returned home, all primped and pampered, I tell them to change clothes because I’m taking them out to dinner. I need to get to know Cindy a little better and see what she’s all about. They say you can learn a great deal about someone by the friends they keep. I am interested in learning more about Val from Cindy’s point of view.
Halfway through dinner, I am having trouble making the connection between the two. They are complete opposites. Cindy is boisterous and reminds me of one of my exes. She drinks like a fish and has downed three double martinis, flirting with everyone in sight, including me.
“David,” Cindy says, reaching out, stroking a finger down my forearm, “you look so familiar.”
I glance over and see Val fidgeting in her seat. She’s clearly uncomfortable.
“I suppose I look like your average guy,” I reply to her while looking at Val.
“Nope,” she replies, her glass swaying, tiny drops of alcohol dotting the table. “I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“You’ve probably seen me at the hotel. I often stay there when I'm in Vegas. When I find something good, I tend to stick with it.” Grinning, I turn my gaze to Val.
“I see tons of people in my job, many different faces.” Cindy hiccups. “But you,” she points, drawing a circle in the air, “you have one of those faces I wouldn’t forget.”
“Cindy, I think you need to lay off the martinis,” Val pipes in.
“Whaaat? I’m having fun. I’m on vacation. Don’t be such a party pooper.”
“This isn't a party; it happens to be dinner.” Val corrects her as if she’s speaking to a child.
“You need to lighten up, Val. You’re so uptight at times.” Picking up the cocktail stick, she slides the last olive into her mouth.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” I clap, interrupting them before things intensify.
“I am,” Cindy exclaims. “Something, umm, chocolatey,” her eyes grow wide and her head swivels as she searches for the waiter. Spotting him, she starts snapping her fingers.
“What do you have that’s chocolate?” she asks, her voice piercing the air as the waiter approaches the table.
“The molten chocolate lava cake is a favorite,” he replies.
“Great, we’ll all have it,” she says, slurring her words.
“Correction,” I intervene quickly to explain, “one cake and three spoons.”
“Three spoons… ooh, we’re gonna be like three’s company.” Cindy snorts, laughing out loud. “We’re all gonna share with one another.”
I glance over at Val, her face turning red as she mouths me an apology. Cindy is quite the handful. She definitely checks off all of the
