Page 5 of Out of Office

“Oh, I wouldn’t ask that of you. Tonight is the last night.” She waved her hand haphazardly, the reminder that I wouldn’t see Genevieve Raymond again souring my mood.

“I know, but I can do a solid for you.” I shrugged, stepping aside so she could lead the way.

The balmy air engulfed us in the humidity of the night. I wished this was a date instead of me taking her to her apartment. Opening the door, I waited until she entered the SUV, her sweet and spicy scent, mixed with the smell of alcohol, lingering around her as I closed the door gently.

The drive to Costa del Este, the condo’s location, was a short one at this time of the night. We were uncharacteristically quiet on the ride home—no exchange of anecdotes or recounts of the day. No questions from her about today’s local news, or how my day went. No signs of our easy banter. A silence eerily like the first day surrounded us, making my stomach knot in protest.

I’d only known this woman for four months, and the knowledge was superficial at best, but the ache in my chest as we approached our goodbyes didn’t sit well. The urge to say something to her, to prolong our time together, ate me up inside, but I wasn’t certain what I could say to change this situation. Genevieve had a life in the US, and I had a life here. On top of that, our aims weren’t compatible. Genevieve had a long-term career plan that would put me too close to the type of goals I’d eschewed for myself and didn’t plan to ever retake. And of course, there was my family. There was always my family.

“I’m going to miss riding with you,” she whispered in the quiet car as we arrived at her building. Her sadness punched me in the gut.

“I told you I’ll bring the computer for you tomorrow morning, so you don’t have to go out before your flight.”

“Oh, I’m not flying away yet... I’m leaving tomorrow for Colón for a two-week vacation.” Her words ignited a spark of hope.

“Really? Where in Colón?”

“A bed-and-breakfast. Anita, the general manager at the Tropics, recommended it. She knows the owner. It’s in Aguaimar?” She said, taking care to enunciate the town.

Aguimar? Home?

My heart skipped a beat at the news, but I held my peace for now. Just because she planned to visit my hometown didn’t mean she would want to spend time with me.

“Aguaimar is beautiful. I’m sure you’ll be able to relax there,” I said instead.

“Really? Oh good,” she said in a dreamy voice. “Well, I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” Soft lips pressed against my cheek, the scent of her so close making my mouth water. She’d crept up, sneaking between the passenger and driver seat, to press the chaste kiss. There was nothing chaste about the way my body reacted to her. Everything told me to whip around and crash my lips with hers.

Then I remembered this was work.

“Do you want me to leave the computer bag downstairs with the receptionist?” I asked, with no hope of my pulse slowing down, giving her an out but hoping for the best.

“No, I want to see you again, give you a proper hug. I’m really going to miss you, Adrián.” The husky words crashed into me, disturbing my equilibrium, even though she’d whispered them.

“Okay, I will see you tomorrow.” I cleared my throat to get out the words.

“See you tomorrow.”

Before she could exit, I jumped out of the car and opened the door for her. The swing of her hips acted as a pendulum on a clock until the glass door closed behind her, dislodging me from my trance.

I had less than twelve hours to figure out how to insinuate myself in Genevieve’s plans for her last two weeks in the country. We might not have a long-term future together, but we certainly could explore a short-term one. People like Gen came only a few times in life and I’d learned the hard way not to ever waste those moments.

I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by.

Three

Genevieve

My head swam in a sea of regret. Last night’s champagne seemed like a good idea, but I lamented the decision to have more than two glasses during the celebration. Bolstered by my resolve during my conversation with Mom and the banter with Anibal and Anita, I’d forgotten to practice moderation, which at this point should be my middle name. I was that child, the careful one, the one who friends appointed as the designated driver in college. Carefulness was my brand.

A quick shower and a cup of blistering hot coffee remedied some of my aches. Somehow, I’d had the presence to wrap my hair, so I placed it in a ponytail, put on leggings, a tank top, and an off-shoulder T-shirt on top.

Saying a quick thank you to past Gen for my already packed vacation bag, I pulled my cell to see the timing to order a shared drive to the nearest car rental. From there, I’d take the two-hour drive to Aguimar. Like it was 1999, I printed the directions, just in case the signal was spotty on the road to the town, even though everyone assured me that wouldn’t be a problem.

As an extra precaution, I also printed copies of my reservation at the hostel Anita had arranged. My vast experience had taught me well—people that took arrangements made for them for granted could easily find out they had incorrect information and nowhere to stay. If I had to explain to one more Vibranium member that I couldn’t build a room in a sold-out hotel...the joys of hospitality.

The intercom pulled me from my mental inventory, startling me.

“Hello?”

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