Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(9)

*

The patio was shady and faced the deep, blue Pacific Ocean. A cool breeze, ladened with salt, flapped the spice-colored tablecloth. Calli turned her face into it, enjoying the moist wind. They had climbed a dozen stairs to reach the patio. The patio was higher than the buildings across the road. The ocean was visible over the top of their roofs. The ground sloped toward the sea.

“The ocean looks wonderful,” Calli confessed. “I wish we were going down there afterwards. It feels as though we’ve done nothing but climb, today.”

“The city is right next to mountains. What else did you expect?”

“To go down at least fifty percent of the time.”

Minnie grinned. “They say here that if you get tired climbing the hills, you can always lean against them.”

Two huge margaritas arrived, along with a platter of rolled tortillas surrounded by tomato slices, sour cream and green salsa.

“We didn’t order this,” Calli said.

“What’s this?” Minnie asked the waiter. She pointed at the tortillas. “Qué?”

“Sí.” The waiter pointed to a table at the far end of the patio where three men sat with a bottle of tequila between them. A woman was with them, wearing a modern business skirt and silky blouse. One man—young, with bright, happy eyes—lifted his shot glass toward them.

Minnie smiled and shook her head, a hand over her heart. “Please take them back,” she told the waiter. “We just want to have a quiet drink.”

The waiter looked at the man at the other table, shrugged and picked up the platter.

The man called out something. He motioned that the waiter should put the platter down, then got to his feet and bowed from the waist. With deliberate, exaggerated motions, he turned his chair to face the table of men, his back to them. He would leave them alone, despite his gift.

“Oh, the darling,” Minnie breathed.

“How do you do that?” Calli asked, rubbing her temple. She took a sip of the margarita. Delicious and with just the right degree of kick—featherweight—for this heat.

“Do what?”

“Get them to leave you alone after you’ve hooked them and drawn them in?”

“No idea,” Minnie admitted. “They just seem to understand.”

“Even here?”

Minnie waved toward the table where they talked with their heads together, not taking the slightest notice of Calli and her. “Apparently.”

“I wish I’d had you with me last night,” Calli muttered.

“It didn’t occur to you that the men just wanted fun?”

“Groping is fun?”

“Groping is a compliment. The men here, they see, they like, they do something about it. It’s refreshing. You know where you stand.”

The images from her dream zinged back into Calli’s mind. They were faded now and losing their edge, yet still had the power to catch her breath and make her pause. She remembered to breathe again and picked up one of the tortilla wraps. “I bet you do,” she told Minnie and took a bite.

Minnie tilted her head. “When are you going to forgive the race of men for what that bastard did to you? They’re not all tarred with the same brush.”

Calli choked on the mouthful of tortilla as the spice hit the back of her mouth, her tongue and her lips. Afraid to take a breath lest her mouth burst into flames, she sat with the morsel on her tongue, not sure if she could swallow it. What would it do to her stomach? Tears blurred her vision.

“Swallow, then suck on the tomato,” Minnie advised, pushing a napkin into her hand.

Calli swallowed, then reached for the margarita.

“No, the tomato. Trust me.” Minnie took the glass from her. “That will make it worse.”

Calli grabbed a slice of the tomato and stuffed it into her mouth. She was astonished by the instant relief. “Oh my god!” she said, when at last she could draw breath. “Do Vistarians have cast iron stomachs? Metal linings in their mouths? I think my lips have gone numb.” She prodded them experimentally.

Minnie smiled and took the rest of the tortilla from Calli. “Excuse fingers,” she said as she unrolled it. Along the row of spicy meat and vegetables inside she dabbed big dollops of sour cream and a line of the green salsa. Then she rolled up the tortilla and handed it back. “Try that.”

“Is it safe?”

Minnie merely sipped her drink with a smile.

Calli took a bite. The cream and salsa, which had a fruity flavor, dulled the fire of the meat and vegetables. She could enjoy the flavor and chew before swallowing. She still reached for the tomato, though.

“Why are you doing this, Calli?” Minnie asked, as she unrolled a tortilla of her own and added the fillings. “Robert wasted the first half of your life. Why let him destroy the rest of it by holding a grudge that stops you from enjoying yourself?”

Calli avoided answering. She took another bite of her tortilla. This time, she enjoyed the sharp flavor of the spices. She’d had Mexican food before. These spices were different. Fresh or green, or something. After mulling over the differences, she took another sip of her drink, then said to Minnie, “Tell me about the Red Leopard.”

Minnie pursed her lips, then sighed. “Okay. Serves me right.” She ran her hands through her short hair, ruffling it and patting it into order again. “I don’t know who he is.”