Destined from Xochiquetzal

Zuma De Leon

I can't believe I have to babysit this wannabe Mexicana for this stupid gringo that has the president seeing dollar signs. I arrived at the Grand and waited in the lobby. while I waited I imagined what this Anthropologist would look like with the last name Doyle, probably tall, pale skin with fiery red hair. Ha, I thought just because her name is Alma doesn't mean she will know anything about our culture, she probably knows everything that her Harvard books told her. 

It was almost 8 am and she was not anywhere to be seen so I went to the front desk to see if maybe she left when I was tapped on the shoulder. When I turned around this petite woman with dark hair and beautiful brown eye asked if me if I was looking for Alma Doyle, I was so shocked and speechless that she asked in Spanish, "¿Esta buscando a Alma Doyle?". I chuckled. "I'm so sorry I was not expecting you to look like this", She rolled her eyes and said so because my last name is Doyle, what you thought I was going to have red hair. I steeply say yes I'm sorry, but yes I was. 

She was so beautiful that I could not stop staring, and all I wanted to do was touch her brown sugar skin and run my fingers through her raven hair. It was so long and thick that went down to her hip. I showed her to the jeep that was waiting in the valet. She gave me a small smile and said I'm glad that you didn't pick me up in a limo, that presidential suite was ridiculous. I'm not used to all this high-class life, she blushed. It was so endearing that I just wanted to scoop her up and kiss those lovely lips. I coughed the thought away. 

"So Miss Doyle, are you excited to visit the site where we have found more Aztec relics?" She gave me this bewildered look and asked "we are not going to work at the museum? And you can call me Alma." 

I gave her a look asked her if she got briefed? I smiled as she shook her head. "Well, senorita we are going to be in the field for most of your time." I could feel her gaze on me while I drove to the museum so she could meet the curator. She was dressed very modesty and it gave her a very sophisticated look that he would appreciate. "So the curator is a very old school guy and I think he will be pleased with your attire. She looked herself over and smiled. " Well that good, my father taught me that you have to be respectful when you meet people from other countries, you never know what their beliefs and expectations are of smart and educated women." "So your father is American?" I asked. "No he was Irish," she said with a small frown and an emphasis on was. "Oh I'm so sorry", I said. "Would it be too personal to ask how he passed?" She shook her head and told me he had emphysema that developed into lung cancer. That he had died before she graduated, but that he was her greatest inspiration. I told her that he was looking down at her with pride. 

When we arrived at the museum she put her hair in a long braid that made her look like an Aztec princess and all I wanted was to serve her as a lowly peasant. God, she was gorgeous, how is she not married or in a serious relationship. "So how long will you be with us," I asked. " I'm not sure I wasn't told, but I would love to stay as long as I need to." "So no boyfriend will be missing you?" I said. She gave me a funny look and said. " Is that some Mexican way of asking me if I'm single?" Dam she was smart too. "Sorry was that too obvious?" She just smiled at me. 

When we arrived at Curator Mendoza's office she paused and asked, " I didn't get your name?" I laughed and said Zuma, Zuma De Leon at your service, Senorita, and walked to my office.