Part 19 (1/2)

”Lock all the windows, and the doors, too. Anyway, he's not going to come back. Not after the cops came.”

”I told you not to call the cops,” hissed Corney. ”Talk about embarra.s.sing-and they weren't any good at all. Trey wrapped them around his little finger. He got all chummy with Todd Kirwan, told him it was just s.e.x play and Todd, sweet lad that he is, just wanted to get away as fast as he could. That young one, on the other hand, was sure fascinated with my predicament. Couldn't take his eyes off me while Trey was unlocking the handcuffs. He did that first-then gave me a sheet so I could cover myself, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”

”I'm sorry,” said Lucy. ”But I couldn't see through the door and I was worried it was a home invasion. That's why I called the cops. I was scared, too,” admitted Lucy. She dropped her voice as a couple of women entered the ladies' room. ”Do you think he really wanted to hurt you?”

”I honestly don't know. I'm so confused. He had his hands on my neck, but I think that's supposed to make everything more intense or something. A lot of men like it rough, remember what those girls said about Tiger?”

Lucy did. It had been quite a revelation. ”Trey's got a big ego,” ventured Lucy. ”Maybe that's something these Type A guys need.”

”Well, I'm done with him, that's for sure. I don't care how successful he is, I don't need to be treated like that.”

”Absolutely,” agreed Lucy. ”How did it start? I mean, weren't you all dressed up for the ball?”

”Yeah. I was dressed to the nines. I spent the entire day getting ready. Manicure, pedicure, hair, facial, the works. I had a new dress, Valentine red, fabulous shoes. And he was in a tux when he arrived, gave me a box of truffles. The big one. The grande. I offered him a drink, I had a bottle of champagne on ice. We were sitting in the living room, in front of the fire. It was lovely. We chatted, light stuff, you know. I was in a great mood, I felt flirty, you know?” She paused. ”Maybe I went too far.”

”I don't think you should blame yourself. I don't think you had control of the situation,” said Lucy.

”I did in the beginning,” said Corney. ”I invited him in, I had the champagne ready.”

”When did it change? Did he drink a lot of the champagne?”

”No. He hardly had any.”

Another dead end, thought Lucy. ”What were you talking about?”

”I think I said I was going to Mexico in a week or two. I asked if he was going to get away someplace sunny this winter.”

”That sounds innocent enough.”

”I know. It's not like it was personal or anything. Just small talk, c.o.c.ktail party chatter.”

”Maybe he couldn't get away himself this year,” said Lucy. ”The economy is still pretty bad, a lot of people are cutting corners.”

Corney's tone was thoughtful. ”I don't think that was it. It was more about me, something I said. I just had this feeling the atmosphere had changed.”

”What did you say?”

”I think I said I was looking forward to drinking sangria and using my high school Spanis.h.!.+”

”And what happened then?”

”He put down his gla.s.s and stood in front of me and put his hand under my chin and sort of pulled me up and kissed me and said there was no hurry about getting to the party.”

Lucy shook her head. ”Speaking Spanish is a turn on for a lot of men. Bill loves to see those Almodovar movies just to hear Penelope Cruz do that lispy thing.”

”I do have a Castilian accent,” said Corney. ”Maybe I said thangria instead of sangria.”

”That's probably it,” said Lucy, realizing she'd been talking too long and Bill was still at the bar. ”I've gotta go. Take a sleeping pill and I'll see you in the morning.”

”Thanks, Lucy. You've been a pal.”

Chapter Nineteen.

Lucy took the wheel for the drive home, and Bill immediately fell asleep, snoring loudly as she followed the familiar route home. She was left to her own devices, and her thoughts followed their own meandering track. So Corney was going to Mexico, and she spoke Spanish. A lot of people went there. James Taylor had a song about it. Mexico. What was it with Mexico?

Chocolate was discovered in Mexico, at least she thought it was. The Aztecs drank it in their religious rituals, but it was a bitter, unsweetened drink. One of the explorers-Cortez, Magellan, Columbus-she wasn't sure who, but she did know one of them brought it back to Europe, where it created a sensation when some genius came up with the idea of adding sugar. The rest was history. And now the health experts were saying that dark chocolate was good for you, so she didn't even have to feel guilty about that secret stash of chocolate bars she kept in her night stand.

But the popularity of dark chocolate was a relatively recent phenomenon. Lucy remembered how the kids would refuse to eat it and the little miniature bars would linger in the bowl of Halloween candy until she finally finished them off. Until then, in fact, she'd always chosen milk chocolate but after eating those few, spurned bits of dark chocolate, she came to prefer it.

Now, of course, dark chocolate was just the beginning of a chocolate revolution. Trey had been proud of his unusual flavors and she knew he was part of a larger trend. Even Dora was mixing up hot-pepper-flavored chocolates for her Hot Lips, which, come to think of it, she'd learned from Max. Hadn't Dora said something about Max picking up the recipe in Mexico?

Okay, so maybe both Max and Trey had gone to Mexico, and Corney was planning to go there, too. A lot of people went to Mexico. Even Bill's parents, in fact, had a time-share in Cancun. They loved it and spent a few weeks there every winter. They didn't speak Spanish, they said they didn't need it. They had little contact with actual Mexicans, except for the time-share employees, but spent their time with other Americans. Lucy figured that was probably the case with most English speakers in Mexico, who lived in a sort of parallel universe to the natives, encountering them only when they bought something in a shop or ate in a restaurant. Bill's parents, however, stuck to the time-share's own restaurant, fearing the native food would make them sick. And they never drank the water without boiling it first.

Lucy chuckled to herself, remembering Bill's mom Edna's hilarious account of how the first thing she did upon arrival every year was to fill every pot with water, bring it to a boil for ten minutes, and then load all the pots into the refrigerator. Lucy doubted it was really necessary but you couldn't convince Edna, who wouldn't even make coffee with unboiled water.

”What's so funny?' asked Bill, waking up when she turned into the driveway.

”I was thinking about your mother,” said Lucy, braking.

”My mom is funny?”

”Sometimes,” said Lucy. ”It's been a while since you spoke with her. Why don't you give her a call tomorrow?”

”I will,” said Bill, stumbling on the porch steps.

”Take it easy,” said Lucy, taking his arm and guiding him inside. She doubted he'd remember much about the evening tomorrow morning, least of all his promise to call his folks.

Bill wasn't the only one with a thick head on Sunday morning-Corney complained of a hangover when Lucy called to check on her.

”I couldn't sleep, so I had some brandy,” confessed Corney. ”I finished the bottle.”

”It wasn't full, was it?” asked a horrified Lucy.

”I don't remember,” admitted Corney. ”All I know is that it's empty now. It's sitting on the kitchen counter, mocking me.”

”My father used to swear by something called a prairie oyster,” said Lucy. ”I think it's a raw egg with Worcesters.h.i.+re sauce and something else. Maybe tomato juice.”

”That sounds disgusting,” said Corney.

”The hair of the dog, that's the thing,” said Bill, pulling a beer out of the refrigerator.

”Try a beer,” advised Lucy. ”That's what Bill is doing.”

”I think I'll just throw up and go back to bed,” said Corney.

”No sign of Trey?” asked Lucy.