“How do you use the forearm strike?” Cassidy asked.
“I’ll show you how to knock someone out with just one strike, and even you can do it,” he said to Cassidy.
“Hang on. She doesn’t need to know something like that,” I worried.
“You be quiet,” Cassidy threatened.
“Would you agree that Mike Tyson was probably the boxer best known for knocking people out?” Carlos asked.
“I’d agree with that,” Paul said.
“If you watch his fights, he is targeting just behind the ear with those massive hooks. I contend that he used palm strikes instead of hitting with his glove. Right in that area, you will feel a soft spot behind the ear, and if you feel a little lower, that’s where the jaw attaches to the skull. If you strike someone there, it’ll rattle their brain, and it will be lights out.
“Who’s the toughest one of you?” Carlos asked.
“David,” Paul, Cassidy, and Fritz all said in unison.
This sounded like a setup.
“Would you volunteer? I promise not to hit you hard,” Carlos said.
“Sure.”
I’m not the brightest guy sometimes.
“Get into a fighting stance with your hands up.
“You can see he has covered up, and getting a punch to his jaw is not going to be easy. If I do a bone strike from the side, I can hit him right behind the ear. Note that I bend my elbow slightly so that when I hit him, I won’t hyperextend it,” he said as he demonstrated in slow motion.
“Are you ready? I’m just going to give you a little love tap,” Carlos told me.
I just nodded. He didn’t hit me hard. I sort of saw a bright flash, and then I was on my butt, and Carlos was holding me up in a seated position and rubbing my neck.
“You’re okay. Just breathe,” Carlos coached.
“Crap. How long was I out?” I asked.
“Just a couple of seconds.”
“I want to try,” Cassidy said.
“Your dad wouldn’t be happy if he heard you got knocked out,” I said.
“‘Stupid boy,’ I want to knock you out,” she clarified.
“No one is knocking anyone out. David has had concussions in the past, and I’m not willing to risk it,” Fritz said to earn himself a bonus.
I was a little unsteady, so Carlos helped me up. We practiced on the heavy bag doing our new strikes.
It looked like you were making a wild swing that would miss. The end result was devastating. You would be at your opponent’s mercy if you were lying on the ground like that.
◊◊◊
Cassidy went with me to the concert with Luis and Sarita. The venue was an outdoor setting, and they charged us $85 per person for a table closer to the front where there was a big band with dancers. I overheard another tourist say it reminded her of a Las Vegas show. It lasted a couple of hours, and I was entertained, but I was tired of feeling like an ATM. I got the impression that Sarita was using me to see things she otherwise couldn’t afford.
After the show was over, Luis wanted to go to a bar.
“I’ve got to work tomorrow, so I think I’ll head back to the hotel.”
He seemed deflated.
“Why don’t you give him some money and I’ll come back with you?” Sarita suggested.
I think Cassidy had figured out I was being hustled. The problem was Mr. Happy reasoned I’d already spent almost $400 for the evening; I might want to just go with the flow. I handed Luis the equivalent of $20, and we left.
“You and I need to talk tomorrow,” Cassidy said once we got off the elevator.
“I look forward to it,” I responded, with my sarcasm level set to 11.
I took Sarita back to my room, and we had a good time. She wanted to spend the night, but I wouldn’t allow it. She was a little upset when I told her I couldn’t see her Friday night. Cassidy was right, this had gotten out of hand. Sarita reminded me I needed to give her ‘cab money’ to get home.
I vowed this would be the last time I saw her.
◊◊◊ Friday May 27
I woke to Cassidy smacking my butt.
“Get up,” she prodded.
I grabbed her and pulled her into bed with me. She let me wrap my arms around her and snuggle.
“What are you thinking?” Cassidy asked.
“That you have too many clothes on,” I teased.
“Slut.”
I kissed her neck.
“Stop that, or I’ll tell Fritz that you sexually harassed me.”
“If I’m going to have to pay you for the lawsuit, I might as well make it worthwhile.”
“Don’t make me knock you out.”
“Fine, be that way,” I complained.
“What’s the deal with Sarita?” she asked, to circle back to why she was there.
“She’s my ‘Cuban girlfriend.’”
Cassidy had heard Fritz and Paul talk, so she knew what the phrase meant.
“You need to stop before this goes too far. I talked to Fritz and Paul, and they’re worried that it might get out. You don’t need to be doing something like that,” Cassidy warned.
“I know. At first, I thought she liked me. She threw me off when she invited me to church. Last evening, I realized that she’s going to bleed me dry if I keep seeing her, so last night was it. If you want to go out with Luis, that’s fine,” I said.
“He’s a sexist pig.”
I had to laugh. It was the Cuban culture, where men were men and women knew their place. I made a note to myself to never say that to Cassidy now that she knew how to knock me out without difficulty.
“Does that mean I don’t have to go out with him anymore?” Cassidy asked.
“You never did. I hope you know that,” I said, a little worried.
“Yes, I do, I’m just teasing you.”
She pushed me out of bed.
“Now go take your shower. You have to work today,” she ordered.
◊◊◊
Now, this was how every scene should be. I spent the morning as background. My job was to sit in a lounge chair by the pool and watch pretty girls in period swimsuits.
“Dawson!” Laurent yelled to get my attention. “I’m not buying your performance.”
I wanted to flip him off, but instead I put my lounge chair down another notch so I was more reclined.
“Better!” Laurent yelled.
The man irritated me, and I now had to worry about nodding off while I soaked in the rays. I didn’t think it would be right to get paid for sleeping.
◊◊◊
When I got back to my room, Cassidy made me go out to the beach, and we did sixty minutes of hell. Over dinner, we practiced Japanese. Cassidy had made sure I learned some each day.
Word had gotten around that I wasn’t going out tonight, and Caryn had organized some food and a bar setup. Instead of watching a movie, we had music and soon had a party going. Most of the people were from the crew. The actors all wanted to go to the place I’d been to last night, but none of the crew was willing to spend $85 just to get in.
The suit that the studio sent to watch Laurent had shown up. His name was Bob Trimble. It didn’t take long to figure out he had an agenda.
“What can you tell me about Kimberly leaving?” he asked.
“Crocodiles are scary.”
“Did you hear anything about her relationship with Laurent?” he asked.
I motioned Caryn over, and we took Bob to my bedroom and closed the door. I told Caryn what he’d asked.
“Where’s this coming from?” Caryn asked.
“Your agent talked to some of our studio execs and filled us in. I was asked to confirm what Mr. Gessler said.”
“I can only tell you what was told to me. Kimberly wasn’t willing to come forward with a confirmation,” I warned.
“So, it’s true?” Bob asked.
“If you’re talking about Laurent asking for sex in exchange for a role … that’s what we heard. That the girl is underage, and he’s old enough to be her grandfather, is just creepy,” Caryn said.
“Is that what you heard?” Bob asked me.
I just nodded.
“Shit. This is going to blow up in our faces,” Bob said and then left.