Page 5 of Breakaway Heart
“Miss Heaton?”
The hotel manager loomed over my shoulder, bringing me out of my fascinated state.
“Oh! Yes. Is everything okay?”
“Well, I hope so. I actually wanted to ask you the same?”
“Oh, I’m doing… Great! I mean, sure, it’s lovely here.”
He looked at me with big, doting, and doubtful brown eyes on his kind face, seeming unsure of his next words.
“Perhaps we can do something for your stay? We have a cooking class, or you could join the parasailing group tomorrow?”
“Parasailing? I think I’m good, but thanks.”
He lingered there a moment with a look of concern on his face.
“Can I… Sit for a moment?”
“I suppose so.”
Leon, or so his nametag said, stroked his chin and avoided my eyes as he considered his words. Then he sighed and looked sadly out the glass windows at the scene over at the pool.
“You know, most people just come here and all do the same thing. I really hope you don’t mind me saying, but I noticed you eat in your room and try to avoid the other guests.”
Great, just what I need. Pity from the staff now. He looked so fucking earnest about it, too.
“I just want you to have a good time here, truly. Please don’t be afraid to ask if we can do anything.”
“Okay. Well, thanks. I guess it is a bit odd being here on my own, and maybe this isn’t exactly my crowd.”
“Hmm, okay,” he rubbed his chin again, which worried me. If he was about to suggest mountain biking, I might have hit him. “Let me have a think. I mean, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, thank you, Leon. So… How long have you worked here?”
I don’t know why I asked, it just seemed like a polite question. He was trying to be nice, after all. It just happened that him being nice made me feel even more terrible than I already did. Maybe I should skip out on all this and just go home? I could be back in my fuzzy house slippers in around ten hours from now.
“Seven years. I’ve seen some things I can tell you!” Leon responded, his eyes sparkling with the thought. I leaned in with intrigue, perhaps because I really was starved of conversation.
“Like… What?”
“Oh.” Leon looked over both shoulders to make sure no one else was listening, then leaned in, speaking quietly. “Well, here’s one. Do you know the country star, Bernado Paredes?”
I nodded. Everyone knew Bernado. He was a legend, even now in his 60s.
“He stayed here one night and had been drinking at this very same bar, in just his swimming shorts. Suddenly, he got up and went over to that very same pool, and just belly flopped in,” Leon continued, pointing at the hotel pool. “After a few moments, he hadn’t made any effort to move. He was just floating face down in the pool. So, we panicked. Santiago from the staff had to dive in and pullhim out. But when he pulled Bernado out, his trunks stayed in the pool.”
“No way!”
“So, then Bernado opened his eyes, got up from the floor, went straight back to the bar, and demanded a martini, dirty of course. We were all too embarrassed and, honestly, a little scared of him, to say anything. So there he stayed for the next hour, drinking martinis, at one point even playing pool, completely naked in full view of everyone.”
“Ha! That sounds hilariously awkward, Leon!”
He nodded and laughed. “Happened right over there.”
“I met him once,” I told him.
“You met Bernado too?” Now it was Leon’s turn to lean in.
