If You Were Me

2. Natalia

CHAPTER 2

NATALIA

The white lace curtains over the windows fluttered in the breeze. Just beyond the French panes lay a picturesque view of the brilliantly green Caribbean Sea. It was Saturday afternoon and I’d been quite successful at checking off the most important tasks for the day: sleeping in and lounging in bed.

I stretched and stared up at the white ceiling with the white crown molding. My bedroom was my sanctuary. The walls, painted an elegant green a few shades lighter than the water outside, were decorated with professional photos of me and my friends. My bed took up most of the space with a white vanity dresser pushed against the wall and a walk in closet to my left.

My stomach growled and I buried my face in the pillow. If only a machine existed that could feed me with a single touch. On any other day, I could call for Ebony, the maid, and ask for a grilled cheese sandwich. Ebony made the best grilled cheese. Unfortunately, today was her day off. I had no other choice. If I wanted something to eat, I’d have to get it myself.

I groaned as I rolled out of bed. My feet sank into the plush cream carpet and I wiggled my painted toes. Yawning wide, I slipped into my house slippers and padded toward the door. I passed the mirror on my way. Something in the reflection caught my eye. I stopped and checked my figure and face. I patted my flat tummy in satisfaction and then peered closer at the mirror, pushing my face close to the clear glass in order to see my reflection. When I did, I cursed softly. Dark circles filmed under my eyes and the hint of wrinkles pulled at my mouth.

Blegh.

As soon as Daddy gave his okay, I’d look into surgery for that. Wrinkles terrified me. I knew I’d have to cut back on the partying to preserve my face. I touched my high cheekbones and pinched them to flick some color into my cheeks. I’d been approached by modeling agents several times during my teenage years. My big blue eyes and light blonde hair were classic features on a modern beauty. My height and small build discounted modeling as a serious career. Still, my face got me what I wanted. It was important to keep the treasure safe. I rubbed a dab of moisturizer in my skin and then trotted downstairs.

The house was big and empty. Mom lived in the States. Dad was probably down at the hotel. My parents were separated, having never been married. After enjoying a whirlwind romance, Mom and Dad had conceived me during Mom’s summer vacation to Belize when she was eighteen. I was a happy little accident, something Mom had disclosed during one of her sessions with her liquor cabinet. I’d been thirteen years old at the time. Pretty much messed up my life.

I shook the depressing thoughts and opened the refrigerator. I grabbed the cheese slices and padded to the stove to heat up the skillet. While I waited, I checked my phone and noticed a text from Bryce, my boyfriend.

Bryce and I had a … tumultuous relationship. We were open to seeing other people. I knew he cheated and he knew I did too. But we always came back to each other. At the end of the day, I was Bryce’s and he was mine.

Unfortunately, I was having some serious doubts about us. I could deal with a little infidelity. I mean, come on. Guys cheat. That was to be expected. My only demand was that Bryce keep his little bimbos far from me and my friends when he messed around. I didn’t want to know who he was cheating with. As long as we both stayed ignorant, our relationship worked. Last night at the Pebolito, a club near the beach, I’d spotted my boyfriend. His tongue was stuffed so deeply into some black girl’s throat I thought she’d choke to death. The sight disgusted me. Sometimes, I pretended that what Bryce and I had was good.

Last night reminded me that it was messed up.

He hadn’t even apologized. He knew I’d come back to him. Whatever he did, I’d always forgive him. Bryce was my first and he would be my last. I loved him more than life.

The phone rang and his picture popped up on the screen again. Rolling my eyes, I ignored the call and trekked to the stove. I popped two soft slices of bread into the skillet and pressed down on their soft centers with my spatula. The scent of toast bread filled the quiet kitchen. I yawned and glanced at my manicured hands. Maybe I could head to the spa and redo them. I shrugged and glanced back at the stove. The bread was ready for the cheese and I spread the delicate square on the warmed pastry. After two minutes, my lunch was ready. I sauntered to the living room and turned on the TV, set to enjoy my small lunch.

My phone kept ringing. I continued to ignore it. I needed some space from Bryce. My silence would make him angry. He’d undoubtedly try to hook up with one of my friends just to spite me. I didn’t care. His temper tantrums could not outlast mine. Groaning with frustration as my smart phone continued to chirp, I shut my phone off and decided to get ready for my night out. The girls hadn’t settled on a particular club. Perhaps we’d just hop from one to the other. I texted Tiffany, one of my closest friends who (according to her) had never messed with Bryce, and suggested we start at Gringo’s on the opposite side of the stretch. Heaving myself from the couch, I tossed my dirty plate into the sink and trotted up to my bedroom.

A few hours later, I sat amongst my friends in the smoky interior of Gringo’s. The cacophony of voices and sounds played over me. I inhaled the scent of cheap perfume and booze. The smells were familiar, calming. It felt like home. I smoothed down the fabric of my little red dress. I’d chosen the outfit because it flattered my body. Unlike Tiffany who had two papayas stuffed into her bra, all I had were apples at best. Push-up bras were my best friend.

“This place is so dead.” Tiffany complained, tossing her raven black hair behind her shoulder. Her slanted eyes and cherry red mouth meant that guys sought her for her ‘exoticness’. She milked the attention just as much as I did.

“It will pick up after ten,” Cherry supposed, sipping on her drink. Cherry was a tall, coca-brown girl with glasses and a wide, open smile. Her father owned the most popular scuba diving company on the island. Every girl in my group was connected to some important or wealthy person in San Pedro.

“I say we liven this place up.” Tiffany said, choking back a shot and rising from the table. “Come on, you.” She dragged me to the middle of the dance floor. No one was occupying the weathered old platform so we basically had every eye on us. Uncomfortable, I tried to draw out of Tiff’s hand.

“I think I’ll get another drink.” I yelled at Tiffany.

She waved me away. “Fine.” She allowed.

I pressed forward toward the bar. Now that I was gone, Tiffany was getting plenty of company from two young guys who were grinding on her. She was in her element. Her wide smile and laughter rang out even across the room. I was glad that she was enjoying herself. She had a natural rhythm and grace that deserved the spotlight. I, on the other hand, preferred doing my dancing in the darkness. I preferred doing a lot of things in the darkness.

“Hey, gorgeous.” A deep voice rumbled. I turned and appraised the handsome man lounged around the bar. He had dark, wavy hair and seductive brown eyes. His scruffy beard could not hide the chiseled length of his jaw or the aristocratic height of his cheekbones. He sat like someone with money and appraised me like a man used to getting his way.

“I have a boyfriend.” I put a stop to his lyrics immediately. I didn’t recognize him, but his swagger tattled. He was probably a cavalier playboy from some foreign country set on getting laid as often as possible in La Isla Bonita. I didn’t need that kind of drama. Plus, Tiffany had gotten a nasty STD from hooking up with a random foreign guy last year. We’d all learned the lesson.

Suavecito Guy slipped from his stool and settled right next to mine. The move was smooth and I was duly impressed. I didn’t plan on sleeping with a stranger, but a little flirting never hurt anyone. “He doesn’t have to know.” Hot Guy promised.

I contemplated the man’s offer. It was technically true. Plus, Bryce deserved it. The way he’d brought that tramp right up in my face last night had been disrespectful. Why shouldn’t I have a little fun with this dashing, mysterious stranger?

I tilted my head to the side and sent him an engaging smile. “You just might have a point.”

His sexy lips turned up in a grin and I recognized the look in his eyes. He had read my signals loud and clear. “I’m Dante. Can I buy you a drink?”

I nodded my approval and he got the bartender’s attention. While Dante placed my order, I spotted Tiffany over his shoulder. She thrust her pelvic and winked at me, shoving her thumb high in the air with approval. I snickered under my breath and waved her away. “So,” Dante handed me the shot and we clinked glasses. “To secrets.”

I smiled and echoed. “To secrets.”

I downed the shot and felt the liquor burn the back of my throat. Dante and I spent another half-hour together, drinking until the music merged with my heartbeat and my brain swam with logy thoughts.

“Wanna get out of here?” He yelled into my ears when I declined another drink.

I was buzzed, but not so far gone that I didn’t know what he was asking me.

“Yeah.” I agreed. I planned on stopping us if things got too serious, but a little fooling around sounded heavenly.

He helped me off the stool. I waved to Tiffany who had managed to fill the dance floor with dancing figures. She caught my eye and blew me a kiss, turning her back as she braced her hands on her knees and pressed her body close against her own sexy, random man. The straps on my lace-up heels cut into my leg. I ignored the pain and followed Dante into a quiet, dark room in the night club. The air stank of urine and bleach in here. I felt behind me and found a broom.

This must be the storage closet.

Before I could inhale another breath, Dante closed the door and locked us in darkness. “Man, I want to take you right now.” He muttered under his breath and then crushed me against the wall. The broom cut into my spine as he probed and caressed and sweated. I felt my dress hiking up in my alcoholic haze.

“Hey,” I wrenched my lips away from his persistent mouth. “Not tonight, buster.”

He moaned like a child, but continued to kiss me, his hands landing on my chest. I allowed the perusal and wrapped one leg around his waist, drawing him closer. My dress rode up of its own accord and I felt him fumbling around for his zipper. My breath came in long, hard drags. The anticipation of being with someone new warred with the logical side of my brain that said I didn’t know a thing about this guy. The alcohol played against reason and I wrenched Dante closer feeling his hand pull at my underwear. He kissed my neck as he tugged.

Suddenly, the door banged open. Dante and I both shielded our eyes from the light streaming in from the night club. Bryce stood silhouetted in the doorway. His chest heaved and his eyes blazed with jealous fire. I’d never seen him look so fierce before. It was incredibly appealing. Dante stepped back. He was a couple inches shorter than my six foot two boyfriend.

“Go away, man. You’re not invited to this party.” Dante breathed, turning back to me as if to continue where we’d left off. I stared with widened eyes at the scene unraveling before me. “That’s my girlfriend” Bryce thundered, “man.” “Not tonight.” Dante had the gall to say.

I winced. My boyfriend had a temper. Bryce had never hit me, but he’d broken a table and punched a hole in a wall before .

“You should go.” I said to Dante, hoping to spare Bryce the trouble. When he was eighteen and I was fifteen, Bryce had beat one of my old high school boyfriends to a pulp. Thanks to his dad’s influence, he got off with a warning. He was twenty one now, but if Bryce got arrested again, he could get sent to jail.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.” Dante stood his ground. The alcohol had blinded his judgment. I didn’t want Bryce to hurt the stranger, and I seriously didn’t want him to get in trouble.

“Bryce,” I stepped up to him. “Baby.”

He growled. “Don’t speak.”

I ignored the command and pressed my hand against his defined chest. I caressed the planes of his stomach through his shirt and stuck close to him. I felt when his attention shifted from Dante, now swaying on his feet, to me.

“Now we’re even. Right?” I arched my eyebrow and licked my lips seductively.

“Don’t touch her again.” Bryce demanded of Dante. Without another word, he grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the night club.