Mr. and Mrs. Rossi

“You’ll be praying for death,” Tito said to the man.

“While you boys sit here and play,” Harley reached into her little bag to extract a mirror. After kicking a guy’s ass, she still looked hot as hell. “I’m out.”

“Out?” Dante blinked his eyes. His eyebrow rose.

“Oh c’mon now, Dante,” Harley tossed over her shoulder as she headed down toward the end of the alley, “What did you think? We’d stay and finish up this dinner with some dessert?”

In truth, he wanted to finish up with a bit of sex, but this revelation wiped that off the table. Dante inhaled deeply and blew out with a heavy sigh. “Whatever, Harley. Go do what you need to do but don’t expect me to save your ass.”

The switch of her walk and the sway of her ass distracted him from the sarcastic laugh echoing through the alley where her car awaited,

“Hey look at it this way, at least this time I’m leaving right in front of you.” Harley slammed the driver’s side door and the engine roared almost with a mocking laugh as well, her ring finger glittering under the moon’s light as she flipped them off.

“You drove her car here?” asked Roman.

“I couldn’t resist the sweet ride,” Tito shrugged. “So the Mrs., eh? Charming.”

Dante could only stand back and watch Harley peel out down the street. He imagined when he returned to the hotel, her things would be gone. Since she hadn’t gotten Hannah out of jail yet, he guessed she’d spend the night on her friend’s yacht. He had no doubt Tai would be ready to pick her up and give her an earful of ‘I told you so’.

“She can be charming,” Dante finally said.

“What’s our next move?”

“Gonna go save my wife.”

****

The leather seats beneath her ass welcomed her. Fucker! Harley seethed running her hands over her steering wheel, “I’m sorry those oafs think they can take their liberties with us!” she said to her car.

Fortunately the light over Dante’s head flickered and the shock on his face was priceless. She should be relieved they were both exposed. This whole boondoggle proved they should not be a couple or even toy with the idea of dating. He couldn’t tell the truth even if it was staring him in the face. Even then he couldn’t. His team member came out with the truth. She waved her hand out the window and kept going.

The nighttime life of Villa San Juan varied. At Ignacio’s, the salsa crowd liked to go and eat and dance. Next door, the nephew ran a club for the twenty-one and over crowd, which brought in the range of drunk twenty-one through thirty-five year olds into the street. Harley headed down main street avoiding people walking out into the cobblestone streets. She loved this city as a teen. Now she wasn’t so sure, not when she had responsibilities.

Vuelo sat at the corner of the villa plaza, where a lot of shops stood. A bronze statue had been erected of Villa San Juan’s founder, Gustavo Torres. The larger than life man held a map in one hand and an explorer’s telescope over the other. His legs were set apart, the hand holding the map clenched in his fist on his hip, proud of the island he’d discovered. Harley backed into a parking space right outside of the local bar, Coconuts. This was

more her style, a bit more casual, jeans and t-shirt clad blue collar professionals hanging around chugging down beer. Her dress and come-fuck-me-pumps might warrant some unwanted attention from some of the drunk guys; nothing she couldn’t handle. The clock on her dashboard indicated Vuelo should be letting out the next half hour. She needed to regroup. After sending Tai a text message of her coordinates, she got out of her car, crossed the town square, ignoring the cat calls from men and the go-to-hell-glances from women, and found a spot on the brick circle surrounding the Gustavo Torres statue.

Truth be told, she hated this place. She hated wanting to belong to the crowd so bad she was willing to do anything. Anything. She shivered at the memory of her thoughtless mistake after a night like this. Instead of clubs they partied on rooftops, under boardwalks and by firesides. There’d been no clubs, just rooftop parties, but the typical flirting and drinking went on and then some.

“Harley Tomasello?”

And here was the then some. Goosebumps on top of her shiver pricked her skin all over for conjuring up this man. Harley dragged her eyes from the crowd at the door to the well-dressed man in front of her. Still as devilishly handsome, Julio Torres was too damn good looking for his own good. He was the start of her love for a man in a suit.

“It’s me,” he pressed his hand to his chest, “Julio Torres.”

His casual way of reintroducing himself irritated her to all levels of hell. As if she hadn’t spent her summers fawning over him like every other girl on the island. As if the time they spent together meant nothing, which now she foolishly understood. Julio Torres caught her off guard once again. His devastatingly handsome good looks made many doors open in life and with women. Ignacio probably called him the minute he recognized her.

Of course she’d run into him here. Wasn’t the saying you couldn’t turn a corner without running into a Torres. Why this Torres?

“Wow, are you serious, Julio?” Harley rose to her feet, glad she wore something drop-dead sexy. Much better to meet him again dressed like this than a bikini.

At least Julio scratched the back of his head, pretending to be embarrassed. “I haven’t seen you since, well, I figured you forgot about me.”

“No,” Harley fought against a shiver. “So how’ve you been?”

“Pretty busy, got myself elected as mayor.”

Of course. From the moment they met, Julio made his plans clear: student body president, fraternity president, and then his twenty-year plan to become governor. Either way, she was not included. How could anyone begrudge him for always being truthful?