Chapter Four

"You're an American," Susan said.

"Guilty as charged," Rich said. "Miami born and bred. Having second thoughts?"

"Not at all," she replied.

"And you're from London," he said. "Eastsider, I'd guess."

"Am I so transparent?" Susan wasn't quite sure whether to be flattered or alarmed by his seeming knowledge of her, so she settled on being amused.

"Not at all... I could tell from your accent. I spent three years there as a teenager, when my dad was consulting for BP. I became quite a frightful punker." He ruffled his thick brown hair "Luckily I outgrew it." With a flip, he sent the hat skimming across the room, where it caught on a hatrack by the opposite door. A cry of "Ole!" went up from the crowd, and the parrot flapped its wings and squawked.

"You've practiced that," Susan said.

"Only every Friday for three years."

They sat at an empty table near the door. "So you come here every week? Then this really that wasn't much of a risk for you."

"Unless you count the risk of never acting, and spending my life wondering what might have been."

Their eyes met for an awkward moment. Then Rich cleared his throat, and Susan used the pretense of taking in the decor to break the tension. "It looks like a nice place," she said.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Pause. "Lot of fun. Good people."

"Yeah. It... looks fun."

Mercifully, one of the barmaids came over at that moment to take their drink order. Susan deferred to Rich, who ordered a cerveza and a "Tarantula Fizzler" for himself, and a "Banana Republic" for her. The barmaid smiled and swirled away through the crowd again.

"What's a Tarantula?" she asked.

"Shooter. Vodka, tequila, rum and four drops of Tabasco. It's got quite a bite."

"And a Banana Republic?"

"Creme de banana, creme de cacao, rum, Irish cream and kahlua."

"Going easy on me, are you?"

"You have to work your way up to a Tarantula."

There was another pause. The drinks arrived and as Rich handed over a peso, Susan filled the silence by quickly taking a sip. "It's very good," she said.

"What?" Rich asked. The dockworkers had finished their darts game and were boisterously singing along with the jukebox.

"It's good!" she shouted, lifting the drink.

"Glad you like it," he called back. He picked up his shot glass, stared at it as if steeling his will, then lifted it to her in a toast and knocked it back. She used the pretext of another sip to hide her amusement as he shook his head and puffed out his cheeks, which quickly grew flushed.

Two female construction laborers had joined in the dockworkers' song. "Do you want to take these out to the courtyard?" Rich asked.

"What?"

"OUTSIDE!" he shouted, gesturing with his beer. She nodded and they threaded their way through the crowd.

For a moment, they stood in silence in the pub's courtyard, basking in the cool sea breeze and the emerging stars overhead.

"You know...," she began.
     "So anyway," he said, at the same time.

"I'm sorry." "I'm sorry."

"You go first."

"No, you."

"I insist."

"Okay. I was just going to say..." He pushed his hands in his pockets and looked at her apologetically. "I'm not very good at this."

She smiled sheepishly. "Me neither," she admitted. She started to giggle.

He chuckled too. Then, he laughed out loud, a deep, rich sound. All the tension between them drained away as they dissolved in peals of laughter. When it finally ended, and they gazed at each other moist-eyed, she realized they had ended up holding hands. His hands were strong and calloused from labor, but held hers gently. She made no move to withdraw them.

So this is what Sandrine was talking about, she thought.

"I haven't laughed like that in a long time."

"Me neither," he said.

To Be Continued

Another interlude from the author...

Tarantula Fizzler:
1 oz. Vodka
1/2 oz. Rum
1/2 oz. Tequila
4 drops Tabasco
Mix all ingredients. Don't drink in front of anyone you're trying to impress!

And, for good measure, a girly drink that won't frighten Eddy:
Banana Republic:
2 oz. Creme de Banana
2 oz. Creme de Cacao
1 oz. Rum
1 oz. Bailey's Irish Cream
1/2 oz. Kahlua
Pour all ingredients into a shaker filled with ice. Shake until outside of shaker turns frosty. Pour into a rocks glass or strain over ice cubes. Tastes like a banana-chocolate milkshake!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled story.