“Wooo!!!” Josie shouted at them, which culminated in a hallway of screaming woman, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “This is me.” Josie stopped in front of her door and put the keycard in. “It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?”
“Wrong way.” Michael leaned over her, took out the card and re-inserted it the other way.
“You… you are amazing.” She poked him in the chest.
“You have a pretty low bar for amazing, but I’ll take it.” He followed her inside, and she switched on the light, revealing clothes strewn over the floor. Somehow he had pegged her as a neat-freak.
“I’m getting daiquiris,” she announced.
“Okay, but don’t blame me if you end up barfing.”
“I will blame only you. Nachos, I’m so getting nachos.” Her attention seemed to grow shorter. It was almost as if she were a caricature of a drunk person. An accumulation of every drunk stereotype going. He almost wondered if she was playing it up, until she stumbled again. He had to admit, it was fun to watch her cut loose—to see the transformation from the serious woman he had met in the elevator.
Josie sat on the bed as Michael called room service and once he had ordered their food, he scooted the armchair closer to the bed and sat down. “Can I get you a water or anything?”
“Nah I’m good.” She propped herself up against the wall with a pillow behind her, and they sat quietly for a moment. As the silence went on, Josie gazed into space—her smile disappearing, replaced by a frown.
“So how are you getting to Arenales tomorrow?”
“Bus.”
He considered asking her what time, so he could say goodbye to her in the morning, but something about the look on her face made him change his mind in a split second, and that was all it took to send his life hurtling in another direction. “If you still want me to, I’d like to go with you.”
The smile came back to her face. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. I’ll totally cover your accommodation. I can’t promise it will be as nice as here. And food and drink too. Call it payment for your services.”
“My services?”
She started sliding down the wall as if she’d had enough of being vertical. “Yeah. You can be my bodyguard.”
“Ha. If your idea of having me as a bodyguard is me using you as a human shield then you’re on.”
“You’re too far away.” She shifted, making space on the bed, and held her arm out to him.
Although he wanted nothing more than to join her on the bed, he thought better of it. “The food will be here any minute, I might as well—” A knock at the door came in perfect time. “I’ll get it.” He sprang up from his chair and walked to the door to let the steward in with his metal cart. Michael took the drinks while the steward put the plates on the table for them. “Gracias.” He passed the steward a tip and brought the plates over to the bed. “Anyone order nachos?”
“Me, me. I did!” She reached out and took the plate, piled high with nachos, salsa and guacamole. “Hell yeah.” She stuffed a chip in her mouth, somehow leaving salsa on her cheek in the process.
“Um, you’ve got a little something on…”
She grabbed another nacho and sunk it into a dollop of guacamole, dropping some onto her T-shirt. “I’m so hot right now,” she said with her mouth open.
“Well, don’t hog them.” He reached out his hand towards the plate and she batted it away.
“My nachos.” She turned away from him, shielding the plate from his grasping hands as if she wanted him to fight her for them.
He backed away. “I think I should go back to my room. I barely got any sleep last night. I’m running on fumes here.”
“Well, if you’re going to be a baby about it.” She held out the plate to him.
He took a single nacho. “Good night. What time did you want to meet tomorrow?”
“You can’t just take my nachos and leave.”
He tried to work out what she wanted from him. Maybe she just didn’t want to be alone. Maybe it was something else. He knew he couldn’t trust himself, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that dangerous mix of drunk and vulnerable. “Nachos are on me tomorrow, okay. Try to get some sleep.” He put the plate on the bedside table and took a sip of his drink. “Here, you might need this.” He grabbed the trash-can and placed it next to the bed.
Chapter Nine
He was half-expecting her not to be there when he got to the lobby, like the last few days had been a figment of his imagination, or some hallucination. Most of his time in Mexico had felt that way—not real. Everything looked different—everyone acted differently. Travel had its own rules. Josie stood alone as a stream of people bustled past her, rushing out the door like an ocean current. Michael had left some belongings at the hotel, as he didn’t want to have a member of staff think he had gone and to give his room to someone else. He still needed that room.
It was light and airy at reception, despite crowds of people milling around waiting for their tour buses to arrive to take them where they needed to go.
He resisted the urge to creep up on her and waved to alert her of his presence. “And how are you feeling today?” he asked, approaching her slowly,
