Road to Casablanca (16 page)

She turned over on her side and concentrated on sleep, but found the more she tried, the more awake she became. She rolled over to her back, with no success.
 

As she lay there looking at the top of the bed, she began to wonder what the big party downstairs was like, and whether Erick was still there.
 
She could always call his room, but what if he was sleeping?
 
She didn’t want to wake him.

Cindy pulled back the canopy and saw her gown draped across the chair where she left it.

 
She hopped out of bed, slipped the dresson, and went to the bathroom, where she put on her lipstick by the light of the nightlight. Then she fluffed her hair, threw on her beaded shoes and headed out the door.

She pushed the ground floor button, having no idea where the festivities would be happening and ran into a bellman in the lobby, “Excuse me, but is there a party going on someplace?”

The man spoke no English, only French. Shortly after arriving, Cindy had noticed this was the case for many native Moroccans.
 
She was happy Erick was fluent in French, but she had no idea where he was, so that was of no help to her now.

“Parrrtteeee…”

She spoke slowly, as if slowing down her English was going to help the man understand her any better.

He must have heard the word before, though, because he nodded and smiled, pointing to a crowded corridor just beyond the lobby.

“Merci,”
Cindy told him, using the only word she could still recall from high-school French.

The entrance to the dark, smoky bar was filled with men, and Cindy had to maneuver her way through them to see what was happening.
 
There were exotic looking dancers on a stage, feathered headdresses on their heads, beautiful men and women all over the place and a few bit actors she’d seen in movies. She could place their faces, but not their names.
 

As Cindy continued to navigate the crowd, a waitress with a strong accent approached and asked her if she wanted a drink.

 
“No, thanks.”

She wandered further into folds of the nightlife, continuing to look around until she saw something in the back corner of the lounge near the dance floor that made her wish she had ordered a drink—several, in fact.

Erick was pinning a tall blonde up against a pillar, one hand on her shoulder, another holding a drink.
 
It looked as though she was right in his face and about to kiss him when Cindy approached and did the unthinkable.

“Hey, you!
 
What the hell are you doing with
her
?” she snarled, positioning herself so she was inches from his face and brandishing her rings.
 
“Doesn’t this mean anything to you? Get the hell up to our room or you’ll be getting divorce papers next week!”

Nearly everyone in the vicinity turned around at the sound of Cindy’s outburst, but she didn’t care. She turned to go.

A waiter with a full tray of exotic drinks with maraschino cherries and umbrellas walked past her. Cindy grabbed one with each hand and downed them both at lightning speed, then ran to the elevator and hopped inside. Just as the door started to close, a big hand stopped it from doing so.

“Just who exactly do you think you are?”

Erick glared at her, his face red as a beet.
 
She couldn’t help but notice his top few shirt buttons were open, revealing a hairy chest she found completely irresistible, especially now that the alcohol was starting to kick in.

“Your wife, remember? Or is that only when it’s convenient?”

“You are one crazy bitch, you know that?
 
What are you, stark raving mad?”

“You’re the one who’s mad, you liar!
 
I am your ‘wife,’ and don’t you forget it! What if the Jibades had seen you?”

“Oh, you want to play actress, do you?”

“You told me you would treat me with respect if I came on this trip with you and
pretended
to be your wife and played along with all your little tricks.
 
Well, that little display in the bar is not even close to what I call respect.
 
You don’t treat people you’re dating like that, and you would certainly never do that to someone you were married to if you expect to keep the marriage intact.”

Cindy couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened between Erick and that little tramp if she had stayed in bed.

Erick’s face continued to flush as he pushed her against the elevator door, reached his hand down the halter top of her dress and squeezed, kissing her so hard she nearly lost her breath.

“Stop it!
 
What are you doing?”

He removed his hand but kept his mouth right where it was, and then the elevator doors opened. Much to Erick and Cindy’s mutual embarrassment, there stood the Jibades, apparently going back to their room.

“Isn’t love wonderful?” Mr. Jibade smiled at the two of them as his wife averted her eyes from the embarrassing scene.

“Hello…we were just…”

“He was…helping me with my lipstick.” Cindy knew it sounded foolish, but she was dizzy with booze and could barely stand, let alone think.

As soon as they were off the elevator, Erick turned back to Cindy and slid his hot hand down the front of her dress again. This time, she didn’t bother to object.

If she’d been sober, Cindy would have been aghast by her lewd behavior, but whatever was in that drink she’d had, combined with whatever was happening with this incredibly obnoxious man, was a concoction that completely disarmed her. She hated to admit it, she was now putty in his hands, and she could tell he knew it.

The elevator opened and the two of them couldn’t get out fast enough, clawing their way into Cindy’s room as she pulled back the canopy around her bed. They fell into bed together, rolling around in a fit of passion until Cindy felt Erick tugging at her zipper.

“How do I get this thing off?”

“You don’t.”

He ignored her and flipped her over, unzipping her to the waist before she was finally able to register a protest.

 
“Uh…excuse me, but not tonight.”

“What do you mean,
not tonight
?”

“Just what I said:
not tonight
.”

Cindy was aware she was slurring her words, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

“We are both drunk as skunks—or at least I am—and we are once again in the middle of one of these strange fights we seem to like to have since we, umm, ‘got married’ this afternoon. I don’t want our first time to be like this.
 
It will have to wait, and
you
will have to go—
now
.
 
This will not go any further until I am certain you are treating me with the proper respect I asked you for this morning, and I
did not
see you displaying tonight.”

“I was just flirting with that girl.
 
I don’t even know her.”

“That’s all the more reason why you and I will not be together tonight.
 
You have to get a handle on yourself, Erick.”

Cindy pulled her gown up as high on her body as it would possibly go and showed him to the door.
 

“Good night.”

Erick walked to the door between the rooms, grinning.

“I could just go through here.”

“You will use the front door, thank you very much.”

Cindy did not want to unbolt that door now or ever. If she did, it would be all over for sure.

“I’m sorry.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.
 
Now, go.”

“You do look beautiful tonight.”

“You aren’t going to change my mind, Erick.
 
Good night.” Cindy shut the door behind her and locked it.

As she slipped out of her dress and back into bed, she couldn’t help but chuckle at her newfound bravado.
 
Regardless of where this crazy relationship was headed, Cindy had to acknowledge that Erick was good for her in a lot of ways.
 

Chapter Fifteen

A loud buzz broke though her Cindy’s heavy curtain of sleep. She cracked open an eye, noticing the bright sun shining through the crack in the canopy, to glance at the clock on the nightstand.

Eleven-thirty?
 
In the morning?
 
Already?
 
Yikes!

Cindy sat straight up in bed, shaking herself and attempting to remember all that had passed the night before, particularly why her head was now pounding like a drum.
 
As memories of last night asserted themselves—the woman Erick said meant nothing to him, and how he and Cindy supposedly made up—a sick feeling came over her.

But why the headache?
 
She still couldn’t figure out where that had come from. Suddenly, she recalled of a decorative tray filled with alcoholic drinks.

Rrrrriiiiinnnnnggggg!

Cindy jerked her head toward the opposite table and saw the phone sitting there causing her head to ache even more.
 
She cleared her throat, hoping not to sound too awfully groggy.

“Hello?”

“Cindy?
 
Erick.”

“Hi.”

“Sounds like you had a rough night.”

“Oh yeah?
 
And just whose fault do you think that is?”

“A little too much spearmint tea?”

“Oh I think the tea was fine. It was probably that little whisky sour I downed in the bar.”

“Little?
 
You had them in both hands guzzling like a sailor, if I recall correctly.”

“Very funny.
 
So what do you want this morning, Mr. Redmund?”

“Look, I wanted to apologize again and tell you that you were well within your right to do what you did.
 
I was a jerk, okay?
 
So can we kiss and make up?”

Cindy sat silently and listened to him breathe and recalled the sweet scent of his skin next to hers.
 
She hated the fact he seemed to cast a spell on her, even through the phone.

“I suppose.
 
What do you have in mind?”

“The day’s already half over, my bride, so if you’d like to do something late this afternoon, I’ve arranged for us to take some camels out into the foothills.”

“Don’t you have meetings today or somewhere to be?”

“No, for the next couple days I’m off actually, and I was hoping to enjoy the pleasure of your company. So what do you say?”

“Yes, that sounds fine to me.
 
What time?”

“Well, that depends on how you feel. I could have your lunch sent to you in your room so you could eat privately and nurse that hangover of yours.
 
They have a great little concoction here for it. Then, we could meet in the lobby at three o’clock.
 
We have to take a short drive in order to pick up the trail and I can have appropriate clothes sent to your room, too.”