Cave of Little Faces. Aída Besançon Spencer
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just out of sight, “I’d like to see the house now.”
To Jo’s shock, around the corner came her sister Daniela and her brother Ben, obviously, eagerly awaiting some sort of response and then directions from him.
“Right this way,” said Daniela and began mounting the steps at the far end of the porch.
12
What was now a “public awakening,” so as to say, for Jo and the private gathering on the porch at Las Olas had actually begun at the Bravado Beach Hotel early that morning.
Star and Basil had dawned in a state of excitement laced with caution. “We’ve got a couple of live ones here, but we gotta be careful,” warned Star—the first words out of her mouth as she stretched and popped her eyes open.
“Yeah,” agreed Basil, peering out through the beach hotel’s mahogany-stained windows at another perfect Caribbean day. “This guy Ismael is all full of himself. He acts like he owns the whole place already. Five centuries ago he woulda been lethal.”
“He might be now, if we cross him,” yawned Star, propping herself up.
“Right, I can see that. He could also do us in and grab the whole shebang out from under us.”
“Yeah, he’s like one of those mechanical bulls they got. It’s a wild ride, if you don’t get bumped off.”
“Don’t use terms like ‘bumped off,’” Basil shuddered.
“Well, how do you like this one, then?” asked Star as she swung her legs out of bed. “This fire’s hot, we better strike!”
“Exactly,” said Basil. “We gotta get a move on and get this guy looking at beachfront possibilities today around that Lake Rincon. As soon as you get dressed, let’s call his room and get a field trip going.”
“Right—that’s the ticket!”
But ringing Ismael Balenzuela’s room proved as fruitless as banging on his door, which they did next. Neither did a third degree on the front desk clerks turn up anything helpful. “No, Señor Balenzuela did not leave or leave a key while I was on duty,” was all the first clerk could offer. “Perhaps the night staff would know, but they have all gone to their homes.” The other clerk just shook her head “yes.”
Basil scowled and looked to Star for answers, “Now what?”
“What,” of course, was already in progress at Las Olas del Sol. “Dawn” for Basil and Star was hardly “dawn” for anybody else except Ben, and long before eleven o’clock Balenzuela had risen up, spruced up, breakfasted up, geared up, and glinted up, and had already shot off his first sally of the day, a broadside of charm fired just up the beach at Los Diamantes del Mar Hotel, a dazzling fireworks display targeted to wow Daniela and anyone else that might be of value. Ruby, however, was out running eight miles of deserted beach and Ben was still sacked out, so Danny got it all full force.
“Lovely lady,” he had begun, when he recognized her on a lounge chair next to the pool, already stretched out in a chic bikini, working on her tan. “I could not let a day slip away before I found you again. You made such an impression on me last night.” His teeth glistened in the early morning sun.
“How did you find me?” puzzled Daniela, squinting at him sideways behind her large, round, designer sunglasses.
“I called every hotel in the area.”
“You did? Every hotel—just to find me?”
“Yes, every one until I found you.” She took off her sunglasses to get a better look, and he gazed deeply, soulfully into her beautiful, empty eyes. With the help of the night staff, he had limited the choice down to three and Los Diamantes del Mar, right near Las Olas, was the best choice and his first call, but no need to mention that finding her was quite effortless.
Daniela stirred, reached behind herself and tied her bikini top and sat up, displaying all her beauty like a return salute from the shoreline.
The galleon of Balenzuela’s ambition hove in closer to her battlements. “May I take you to breakfast?” he hazarded.
“I don’t eat breakfast,” said Daniela, swinging her long, sleek legs over the side of the lounge chair.
“But, perhaps, a morning juice?” He felt like he was talking to a child and he sensed it was definitely too early to suggest a piña colada, which she would probably only sip for hours, wasting an enormous amount of time.
“That would be nice,” said Daniela.
“Then it’s done,” and his smile was like the sending forth of a small troop carrier, now landing on her beachhead. The invasion had begun. “May I get it for you,” he offered courteously in full European manners mode.
Danny smiled, delighted. “Oh, would you?”
“Of course, dear lady,” he assured her, his campaign now in full battle mode. “No, need for you to leave the comfort of your chair. After my quest to find you, it is a privilege to serve you.” He nodded deferentially and strode off toward the hotel porch.
Danny simpered. He was sooooo attractive, she thought. With his wavy black hair, his dashing eyes, his courtly style, but so sure of himself. He looked to her like money, power, an ancient and deeply respected lineage—and all of this was true. By the time he came back, Danny had already envisioned herself resplendent on his arm in a black and white photo in one of those European magazines you could not read for the strange language, but thumbed through for the pictures of the celebrities at their dazzling parties.
Danny sipped the bright morning coalition of orange, pineapple, and passion fruit punch, guaranteed to put a sparkle in any brain, and the bright explosion of electrolytes in her system sparkled in her eyes.
Whether this cannon shot from Danny’s ramparts made a dent on his decks, Ismael Balenzuela was unaware. His was a simple, primal nature: target the objective, move in to range, fire away, and take the flag. If he suffered any wounds of the heart, it would be long before he did roll call for casualties. Right now he was ready for another broadside, while he had Danny sipping the juice and giving him what passed for her full attention.
“Last night you were telling us a fascinating story about your inheritance here on the beach. I am a developer, sent from Spain to find such properties and help the owners realize riches beyond their dreams. What a joy it would be for me to help someone as lovely as you.” He paused to gauge the effect.
Danny kept on sipping and looked at him steadily, drinking him in along with her fruit punch.
Let’s go to phase two, thought Ismael. “If you would be so gracious as to take me to see this property, I will tell you what can be done—and how you can turn it into much money. Really quite a great deal of money. Thousands even. . . .” he paused.
“Okay,” said Daniela, still sipping her punch.
“Ah . . . would now be a good time?” He paused. She was simply concentrating on the punch. There was a pause and he wasn’t certain if she was even listening to him until she finished the drink, sucking up the last few drops noisily through her straw.
Then she said, simply, “Sure.”
“Do you mean yes? Now would be a good time to go and see it?”
“Sure.”
“Well, can we go then?”
“Okay, I’ll go get dressed. My brother’s asleep. My sister is out running, so she won’t be back for a while. My other sister is staying at the house.” Danny wrinkled her nose in a pout.
Balenzuela factored this all in: two more sisters beside the wastrel brother he’d learned about last night.
“Please do,” he said, “though it would be a pity to hide such beauty,” he added in what he considered a gallant remark.
Danny