Page 38 of Desolation

When we finally get to the beach, I find us a table and tell her to wait while I grab us a selection of food from the food truck. I want her to try all the best things this place has to offer. I forgot to ask her if she wanted a drink but from the look on her face as I watch her from the line, a margarita would probably do her good.

I grab the number and the margarita from the employee and head back to the table.

“I didn’t know if you wanted something to drink so I got you a margarita.”

Her eyes light up at the cocktail and she happily takes it from me, gulping down half of it. “Ugh, I needed that.”

“Alcohol the only way you can be around me?”

Her eyes light up. “It definitely makes you more tolerable.” She looks at my water bottle and then to me. “No margarita for you?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I don’t drink.”

“Out of choice?”

I nod.

“Why?” she asks rather bluntly.

I look out toward the ocean as images of Sam flash through my mind. “I don’t make the best decisions when I drink.”

“Most don’t,” she snorts.

I look over at her and for the first time I feel like I am seeing the real Mari in front of me. I don’t want to talk about why I don’t drink because it will lead to Sam and eventually my anger will erupt. “Why are you in San Diego?”

She shrugs then finishes the rest of her margarita in one gulp. “Just visiting a friend.”

“What kind of friend?” I ask curiously.

“You want to know if the friend I am visiting is a fuck buddy and that’s why I won’t give it up for you?”

I laugh as I answer. “I mean it’s the most likely answer. If you were any other woman you would have already taken your pants off for me.”

“Good thing I’m not like most women,” she says with a fire in her eyes. “Besides, you couldn’t afford me anyway. I charge five hundred bucks an hour.”

I choke on my water as she says it, my eyes shut as I cough. When I finally open them, she has a huge grin taking up her face as she laughs a loud airy laugh.

“Priceless. You should see your face.”

I slap the table and lean over it. “I would never pay five hundred for you. You are worth far more than that.”

Her grin falls from her face and I can’t hold in my laugh.

“Priceless,” I copy.

“Well played.”

And with that I know we are on the same page again. Her smarminess not quite at its usual gusto. I glance down at her empty glass. “Want another?”

“Sure.”

I get up and grab her another drink partly because I needed to step away from her. Her personality is contagious. I’m not going to lie, I love her feistiness. The way I can banter back and forth with her. It reminds me of someone else I knew. And to my surprise it brings me a sense of calm only the ocean can do.

I look at her as I stand in line to order her another drink. I study the way the ocean breeze makes her hair flutter around her face. They way her skin glistens in the setting sun. I swear I can smell her from here. The intoxicating scent of violet and vanilla mixed with a hint of spice. Although I think the spice might come from her attitude, if that’s even possible.

She looks different as she sits at the table, the cast of red and orange light from the setting sun playing off her golden skin making it look even more tan. She looks almost sad, lost, like she is looking for answers as she stares out to the ocean. Her eyes dimmer than usual, her attitude drifting away with the breeze. The connection I feel with her grows stronger even from this distance. I can’t help but feel she is battling demons just like I am.

I don’t even realize how long I’ve been staring at her, lost in the moment, until the guy behind me nudges me to move forward. I apologize and step up to the food truck and order another margarita.

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