They walked along the echoing stone hallways. Are you enjoying your visit so far?” Carlos asked.
“Everything has been wonderful. Thank you for inviting me.”
Passing an enormous pot of aloe Diane said, “I couldn’t help but notice all the aloe vera around. Do you have a specific use for it?”
Carlos smiled. “One of our Indian tribes represented here on the island communicates with plants. They say the aloe’s exterior spines represent woes, while the interior gel represents healing. If you have ever used it on a burn, you know that to be true.
“When a tribe member detects that a person is heading for trouble, they try to offset it with aloe.” He laughed with exaggerated delight. “They have been surrounding me with the plant for years. They even hide it in my pockets.”
They walked in silence for a moment. Then Carlos said, “Raymond phoned. He seemed upset that you received an invitation and he did not. I explained that we had not kept it a secret from him. It was planned only yesterday. Sometimes these last minute dinners turn out best.”
“Does Raymond come here often?” She hoped Carlos didn’t think she was prying.
“Not so much anymore…” Carlos voice trailed off into reminiscence as though he had forgotten she was there. “Raymond and Gabriel were very close at military school as children. Then they expelled Raymond …” Carlos shook his head.
“Whatever for?”
“A hazing incident. Raymond chased down an underclassman and his pet rabbit, and somehow in the ensuing tussle, the rabbit was burned to death—just a boyhood prank that took a wrong turn.” He continued in Raymond’s defense, “Hazing was an honored tradition in those days.”
Just then, Carlos stopped at two castle-sized doors, pushed them open and stepped aside. Diane stood there, dumbstruck.
It wasn’t the heavily carved banquet table for twenty that grabbed her attention. Or the walls of windows opened to the sea. The three jeweled chandeliers that danced and sparkled in the breezes also escaped notice, as did the centuries old tapestries.
Her shocked eyes even overlooked the gilded grand piano, fastening themselves onto the larger-than-life painting on the wall behind it. It was a portrait of her.
The small nightclub orchestra had been brought to the grand hall from Aruba for after-dinner dancing.
It was only the second time Diane and Gabriel had danced together, but to the others present, including the staff, it appeared that Gabriel, striking in his white linen suit, and Diane, the elegant yanqui, had been practicing for years.
Diane was unaware of the onlookers’ appraising eyes. She was focused entirely on the Latin rhythms of Perfidia and on Gabriel’s hands turning her to the side, drawing her back, expertly guiding her to the slow tempo of the bolero.
Gabriel twirled Diane then smoothly pulled her to him. “You played Granada beautifully along with the guitarist.” He said. “You made my father cry. That is a rarity.”
She looked over Gabriel’s shoulder toward the grand piano and the portrait hanging over it. “Did your Mother play the piano?”
“She was quite accomplished at it.”
Diane pulled her head back and looked up at him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that I bear a strong resemblance to her?”
His face blanched like someone caught in a lie, and he glanced away. Then he nodded as though he had made up his mind about something and looked back at Diane. “At our first meeting, I was too stunned to mention it. But after that… How does one tell a beautiful woman that she looks like his Mother?”
Carlos insisted on accompanying the guests to the helicopter after a late evening dessert aboard the yacht. Diane and Gabriel sat in the stern cockpit watching them climb the stairs from the marina as the macaws squawked and fluttered. A flash of lightning lit up the black northern sky, but the sound of thunder didn’t reach them.
Diane turned to Gabriel. “It looks like the rainy season is approaching.”
“We do not usually get rain as you can tell by the foliage. We can get damaging lightning though. But as in most other places, the weather has been changing.”
The red-headed bodyguard approached from the side deck, and Gabriel motioned toward their champagne glasses. They watched Michael step into the main salon to summon a crew member, then Diane said, “Your father is quite charming.”
Gabriel’s glance slipped past her, up to Carlos’s hacienda on the bluff, but he remained silent.
Diane persisted. “I should say he’s charming to everyone but you.” Still no response. She waited, studying his profile.
Finally Gabriel could no longer resist her glance. He swiveled his chair toward her. His eyes narrowed. “What do you want from me?”
Diane was slightly taken back. She shrugged. “A reply, I suppose.”
“I did not hear a question mark.”
“I’ll rephrase then—”
Gabriel waved her off impatiently. “Never mind. Never mind.” He sat forward in his seat. “You know what? You not only look like my Mother, you act like her. Every crevice of the mind must be excavated. Nothing is off-limits.”
Diane sat back in her chair pursing her lips. It seemed she had hit a trip wire. She sat silently berating herself for nosing around in a highly charged father-son relationship—and probably ruining her opportunity to inquire about Gabriel’s BRI stock. But then, she was writing off BRI wasn’t she? So its ownership was no longer of any consequence to her.
A crew member showed up with the champagne. At Gabriel’s slight finger motion, he poured, then left the bottle and ice bucket and retreated.
Gabriel stood and offered Diane a bubbling flute, but remained silent.
She took a sip, then said softly, “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have pried.”
Gabriel walked to the stern rail. The wind had piped up. Waves splashed through the marina entrance, then foamed and hissed in retreat.
Staring out over the water, Gabriel said solemnly: “Our relationship—family as well as business—changed after my little brother’s death… It was an accident… But I blamed others. I did not cause it, but my father knew that only I could have prevented it. Within the year, my mother died of a broken heart.”
Diane swiveled slowly in her chair and touched the back of Gabriel’s arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
After a few moments, Gabriel spoke. The smile had returned to his voice. “Twenty-six years and this is the first time I have allowed this conversation.” He turned away from the rail and pointed to Diane. “You have spent too much time among the shamans. You are a sorceress.” He walked past her holding his hand out behind him. “Come with me. You will enjoy the night view from the cliffs.”
Diane stood, hesitated a moment, then reached for his hand.
Diane and Gabriel rode in the open jeep to the northern cliffs, more than half way across the island. From there they watched in awe as veins of lightning extinguished themselves in the sea. But soon rumbling thunder signaled the storm’s approach, and they knew it was time to leave.
Gabriel backed the jeep away from the cliffs just as a lightning ball and thunderclap exploded overhead.
“That was too close,” he shouted turning the vehicle onto the perimeter road heading east. He pointed to Diane’s lap. “Buckle your seatbelt.”
Diane’s hair stood up and her nostrils curled at the smell of ozone. The sky roared. Wind pelted them with dirt. Then the rains came.
The headlights became useless, and they had to stop. Then strobe flashes of lightning outlined Gabriel’s villa ahead, and they pressed on.