Page 62 of The Virgin's Dance
The waitress dropped the bill off at Donna’s table as she walked by, moving on to help another customer. Donna fished around in her pocket for her wallet. It wasn’t in the left one, where she was sure she’d put it before leaving the villa. She looked in her right one, too, and … nothing.
She checked both again, a little more panicked this time. Still, it was nowhere to be found.
She had left the house with it; she was certain.
She quickly walked out onto the beach where she’d been standing when she’d ended her phone call, checking to see if she’d dropped it. It wasn’t there either.
She headed back to the café and looked at the bill in dismay.
The young waitress came back, expecting money to be on the table.
“Hola. Mi … purse is gone … stolen.” She shook her head in confusion, wishing she’d gotten José to teach her more Spanish. “I don’t have the money here. No dineros,” she bit her bottom lip, hoping the waitress would be empathetic to her plight.
The waitress knotted her face into first a confused, and then angry frown as Donna tried again in broken Spanish to tell her what had happened.
“Necesitas pagar ahora!” the waitress said, pointing to the bill.
The waitress, her long ponytail swaying back and forth as she became more animated, was now yelling at her, saying something about the police.
She wanted to cry. She couldn’t even run away, with her leg still swollen from her fall.
Suddenly she felt a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Excuse me, madam. I noticed you are having difficulties,” she heard from behind her, the hand clearly attached to a voice with an English gentleman’s accent.
The man then spoke in Spanish, his commanding tone immediately halting the waitress’s rant.
Donna turned around, finally getting a glimpse of the stranger as he turned back to her. “It sounds to me like you have lost your wallet,” he said gently. “Allow me to pay for this for you.”
The man had curly salt and pepper hair and a well-groomed beard, but what stood out the most were his startling, almost frightening green eyes. He wore a deep purple shirt and wore a tiny gold ring in his ear. His eyes creased at the corners as he grinned at her, revealing twinkling gold teeth in the back of his mouth.
“Oh no. Please, that’s too much,” Donna said, a little worried about what he might expect for the kindness.
“Nonsense.” He gave a couple of bills to the waitress, who disappeared as soon as she got a grip on the money. “In return, please … just enjoy one more sunset drink with me. Then I will let you go about your business,” he said with a charming smile.
The man gestured at a chair and Donna hesitantly sat down.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” the man said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
Donna answered anyway. “No, I’ve just arrived. Are you on holiday?”
“No, my lady,” he chuckled.” I am Spanish, through and through.” His words fell into an accent as he said them. “I don’t think I have seen you before. It would be difficult to miss someone with such unique beauty as yours.”
His green eyes darted up and down her frame, taking her all in, and she fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.
“You’ve been sitting here alone all day. Surely you are not visiting our little paradise alone?” he inquired, her uneasiness growing at the question.
She didn’t want this stranger to think she was alone.
“Oh no, I’ve come to visit my … best friend. He’s getting married. I’m his best man.”
He looked a little incredulous, looking her up and down even more obviously, those eyes of his not missing a thing.
“Well, you are the most attractive best man I have ever seen!” He chuckled more loudly, gold gleaming through the gap in his mouth once again.
“Do you like it here?” he asked, once his laughter had subsided.
“Oh yes,” she said automatically, hoping this interaction would be over soon.
