I laze in bed and think of Diago and the intimate kisses we shared last night and I hug my pillow. Then I remember the FBI. Fuck! I jump out of bed and stare at the spot housing the listening device. They must have heard all our conversations - about ‘Maybe’ and ‘Definitely’ and that I hated Christa because she made Diago do bad things. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
With both hands on my head, I contemplate my quandary. It’s my fault; I planted those devices for them. I should have just said ‘No’. As much as I want to remove the bug from my room, I know one thing - you don’t cross the Feds. That’s what it’ll tantamount to. They’ll make you sorry you did. The bugs stay, unfortunately.
Around lunch time, Diago barges into my room.
‘Hey Diago!’
He scoops me off the floor, swings me around and we collapse onto the bed laughing.
‘Whoa!’
He cradles my head like you would a baby and plants little kisses all over my face. ‘I think of you all the time,’ he confesses.
‘Yeah? But last night ...?’
‘They don’t leave! I’m sorry.’
I believe him. He’s doesn’t lie – he’s too arrogant to do that.
‘I keep looking at your room last night. I see the light is on. I don’t want you to turn it off because then I know you sleep. But then I see it go off and I get angry with them, with Christa. But what can I do? So ... today ... I bring you a present.’
‘A present? For me?’ I scramble to sit up, shut my eyes and put out my hand.
He sits up, removes a box from his pocket and hands it to me. ‘Open it.’
‘Oooookay.’ I open the box and gasp. ‘Ohmigod! It’s gorgeous.’ It’s a gold necklace with a diamond pendant in the shape of two tiny cupid angels with arrows pointed at each other. It’s heavy and looks really expensive.
‘This is soooo beautiful Diago,’ I say, caressing the pendant. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before.’ I fling my arms around him. ‘Thank you!’
‘Is a “Sorry” gift,’ he says.
I jerk back and look at him. ‘Sorry?’
‘For eh ...’ he averts his eyes, ‘for ... hurting you … make you …cry.’
I look away, uncomfortable with the reminder that he was my tormentor at one time.
‘Payton?’
‘I ... um ...’ I look at him and grimace a smile.
‘Lemme put it on for you,’ he says, taking the necklace from my hands. Then he reaches for the FBI’s chain around my neck and in true Diago fashion, rips it off my neck and flings it on the table. It lands in a glass of water.
The listening device! Fuck! I look at it but do nothing to retrieve it.
He steps behind me, puts his chain around my neck and runs his hands slowly over my breasts, my stomach, my thighs. ‘Do not take it out, ever,’ he whispers.
‘Okay,’ I say, fingering the pendant.’
‘Now I have to go.’
‘So soon?’
‘Senor Vito, he wait for me.’
‘Senor Vito? Still? What are you learning now?’
He averts his eyes.
‘What? What?’
He rubs his chin and jerks his neck around.
‘What? Tell me. Come on, tell me.’
He takes a deep breath. ‘Sex.’
‘Sex?’
He nods and wriggles his eyebrows.
‘What ...? How ...?’
He teach me how ... what to do with women. How to …to please them?’
Really? I didn’t know your syllabus covered sex-education? And “Women”? What “Women”?’
‘You tell me ... I lousy lay, remember?’
I cover my mouth with both hands as I remember my conversation at the rock pool. ‘I ... um ... Christ!’ My face turns beet.
He chuckles at my embarrassment.
‘Well ... then ... ’
He laughs and hugs me. He has a really nice laugh - deep, manly, throaty and I like the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. ‘I see you later, eh?’
I nod. ‘Are there going to be any practical lessons?’ I tease, trying to picture Senor Vito touching Diago, showing him erotic spots, teaching him how to kiss. Maybe Senor Vito is gay?
‘Si.’
‘“Si”?’
He nods.
‘Senor Vito … he’s gonna give you practical lessons?’
‘Si.’ His adamant tone confuses me.
‘Diago, how the hell ...?’
With a gleam in his eye, he opens the door and jerks his head towards the courtyard.
I look outside and turn moss green when I see the sexy Senorita standing next to Senor Vito. ‘She?’
He wriggles his eyebrows at me. ‘She my teacher today, si?’
‘She … She? That’s not a skirt, that’s a bloody belt she’s wearing as a skirt. And who wears stilettos that high in the middle of the day?’
More wriggling of his eyebrows.
‘Mff!’
The senorita spots Diago, sensuously hitches up her bra strap then blows him a kiss.
Diago grins like a fool and waves back.
‘Diago!’ I snap.
His tries to stop grinning and fails.
‘Mff!’
‘You jealous?’
‘No! Off course not! No.’
He chuckles like a naughty schoolboy. ‘Hasta la Vista,’ he says and steps out of my room.
I almost slam the door on his smug, clean-shaven face as his laughter rings in my ears.