Acapulco Nights Read Free Page B

than I want to remember. In my running group? Trust me. There’s no one out there for me.”
    “There’s someone out there for everyone.”
    “Who says? Have they done some empirical study? I hear it all the time, but how do we know it’s true? I haven’t had one steady boyfriend in my entire life. In fact, I can count the number of dates I’ve had on one hand. One hand , Suzie. There has to be something wrong with me.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I just know.”
    “Because how, you are some expert on men and what they find attractive?” She set her drink down next to mine, plucked the Mexican equivalent of a bag of Doritos out of a basket on top of the refrigerator, and popped it open.
    “No, but—”
    “Let’s change the subject. I’m here to relax, not freak out about my man problems.” After crunching a few chips, she finished the last few drops of her drink. “That would take more than ten days to solve anyway.”
    Janice got up from the couch and grabbed her sandals. She placed her empty cup on the small table near the windows and went over to her bags. “I’m putting on my bathing suit, grabbing my sarong, and we are out the door.” She unzipped her suitcase with a flourish.
    The great thing about Acapulco is no one cared if you wore nothing more than a bathing suit to the bars, restaurants, stores, even the movie theater. And in a resort hotel like Playa Del Mexico, most of those things could be found right on site. It would probably even be acceptable to wear a bathrobe to breakfast.
    As Janice dashed into the bedroom to change, I unfolded a luggage rack I found in the entryway closet, dragged my monster of a suitcase out of the corner where the bellhop left it, and tried to sling it on top of the contraption. After several unsuccessful attempts to land it onto the miniscule rack, I gave up in defeat and laid it on the tile floor. Unzipping it, I hunted for my bathing suit—a very modest two-piece.
    Janice dashed back into the room, her short hair spiking up wildly from her head. “What do you think?” She modeled her beach wear for me, taking several turns, looking like Vanna White hopped up on Power Bars. Her aggravation over men, her job, and her lawyer life had disappeared for the time being.
    “You look fantastic!” A riotously bright-green bikini showed off her slender figure with its barely-there curves and revealed how hard she worked to keep it that way. Her stomach was taut, her legs slim and muscular.
    “Do you think so?” The body-conscious Janice had returned, and she quickly tied a flowered, flowing sarong around her boy-like hips.
    “You know you do.”
    Clearly wanting to stay off the topic of her bikini-clad self, she asked me, “And what are you waiting around for? Go get changed, missy! Happy Hour’s probably half over by now.”
    “It’s only two o’clock in the afternoon,” I pointed out.
    She focused a steady gaze on me. “Get your butt in there and change already.” She tapped her finger on her waterproof watch. “This is a ten-day vacation, and half-a-day is already over.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” I picked up my swimsuit and a pair of shorts. Janice was right, we only had ten days to spend in Acapulco.
    I closed the bedroom door behind me, grateful for a few quiet moments to reflect on my plan. Ten days. Not a lot of time. I slipped off my traveling clothes and pulled on my swimming suit.
    A small, leather-bound book caught my eye by the phone on the nightstand—the hotel directory. Maybe I could find a phone number for the office or even the general manager. Tomorrow I could find some time to slip away and make a few phone calls, get some questions answered about Joaquin. Maybe the Internet article I’d found had been outdated. Could be he no longer worked here. That would be my first order of business. Couldn’t quite get a divorce, if I couldn’t track down my husband, now, could I?
    I sat down on the bed and