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“Gracias, señor.” I smiled demurely at him again. He smiled politely at me and walked away. I watched his ass as he headed toward the kitchen.
I had no intentions of sitting outside. It seemed to get hotter in exponential increments here, from 10 A.M. until the sun set, and although the restaurant was almost on the beach, the air was still today. I looked around at the other diners, noting that I was the only person there solo. I was also bored. I spotted the antiquated jukebox near the bar and recalled hearing it last time I ate here. I sashayed over and dropped a few pesos into the slot, closed my eyes, and picked random songs. I nodded my head and swayed to the upbeat tempo of my first choice as I returned to my seat to enjoy the music with my Perrier.
The waiter who brought my food from the kitchen was not Rodrigo. He was much younger, couldn’t have been a day over sixteen. My disappointment must have shown.
“Is everything okay, señora?” he asked politely.
“Sí, señor. Everything is fine.” I smiled nervously at him as he put my food in front of me. Everything tasted wonderful but I felt let down. My stunt required Rodrigo to serve my meal. I paid my bill at my table and hauled ass. I was halfway up the block when someone touched my shoulder. It was my young waiter, grinning at me.
“Señora, you forget this? It was under your plate.” He held out a cream envelope addressed to La Reina.
I shook my head. “No, my name is not Lareina. I don’t think this is mine,” I said, pushing the envelope back into his hand.
He dropped his hands to his side, refusing to take the envelope. “Sí, señora, you are La Reina, the Queen.” He nodded emphatically.
I guessed that was something I’d missed in high school Spanish. I smiled. “Okay…Gracias, señor.” He gave me a salute and ran back into the restaurant.
“The Queen?” I said aloud. “Who would call me that?” I opened the envelope and read the enclosed note as I sauntered home.
Mi Reina,
You are lovely, a wonder for my eyes and heart to behold and embrace. Por favor, I would like to see you again. El restaurante will close very soon for siesta. If you permit, I would like to visit with you then. If you will hang a blue cloth from your window, I will know that you wish to see me, too, and my heart will sing with gratitude. Until then, I await with hope,
Rodrigo
I could have been bought for a penny. Rodrigo was trying to mack me! I couldn’t hate because I knew the game inside out. I was a teeny bit mad that he had made his move first but why should I care? Either way, I was all for getting my pussy done right so there was no need to resist. I fumbled with the key at the door, wondering if I had anything blue to hang out the window. I left the door open but locked the bars.
Snickering to myself, I tore through the closet in search of a scarf, a belt—anything blue. In light of Rodrigo’s polite note, it seemed too tacky to hang out the turquoise dress I was wearing. Shit, I hope this ain’t some Mexican courtship ritual. I’m not trying to get married. I just want some decent fucking to hold me until I get back to DC.
I hung a blue washcloth from a hanger on the patio and took a quick freshen-up that included inserting my contraceptive sponge and putting condoms in strategic locations. I heard the doorbell ring as I put my toothbrush in the charger. I checked my face for stray gobs of toothpaste, then answered the door. Rodrigo’s lean frame filled the doorway as he entered. He took both my hands in his and greeted me with a two-cheek kiss and a hug.
“Buenas tardes, señora,” he said as he released my hands.
“Buenas tardes, Rodrigo,” I replied, stepping back to observe him. He had changed into black, loose-fitting linen trousers and a cream shirt that offered an enticing contrast to his bronze skin. I was caught off guard for a moment. I’d never fucked a man this fine. I was nervous. Not that I’d been laying up with the ooglies, but Rodrigo was from the “Hell yeah!” page in the Sophisticated Sista’s Catalog of Fine Ass Men. I reminded myself that I’d been campus queen at my alma mater and though I was forty, I was mistaken for twenty-five quite often.
“Rodrigo, please make yourself comfortable.” I smiled graciously as I regained my composure. “And please, my name is Deena. No need to call me señora.”
“Sí, mi reina, I will call you Deena.” He sat close, facing me, our knees touching slightly. “How are you enjoying Sayulita so far?”
“Sayulita is beautiful. So far, I like it here.”
“Wonderful, Deena.” He caressed my thigh as he watched me attentively.
Aha! He’s down with it. Good. Now I don’t have to work so hard. I could feel my pussy juices simmering.
“Do you think you like it well enough to buy this house?” Rodrigo asked.
“Yes.” I smiled. “I like it well enough to buy the house. How did you know?”
“Deena, Sayulita is a small town. Remember that there are very few secrets here. That is why I admonished you at the beach. It would not do to have the name of our newest resident to be dishonored for something so petty.” He smiled seductively at me, arousing me further when he traced my lips with his finger. An involuntary moan escaped my lips. I forgot to ask him what sin I’d committed at the beach.
“Deena.”
“Yes?”
Rodrigo stood up. “Mi reina, my queen, I want to bathe you. Do you have any olive oil?”
“Olive oil?”
