A Perfect Gentleman
Saint Lucia is the bomb!
Although the beach hardly differs from that of Barbados, the group that uses it is less diverse. We meet people from all kinds of countries that we had never heard of. The Surinamese are the most festive of all, they go wild with every style of music, seem to master all dance moves. Their accent also makes us laugh more often, but that doesn't stop them from mingling with us.
In the late afternoon, we visit the twin volcanoes. Michelle and I decide to take a Sulphur bath that, according to local guides, should make us look at least twenty years younger. Rick bursts out laughing, teasing Michelle that he's not a pedophile, and when she comes out of the tub as a four-year-old, he’ll dump her in an orphanage on the island.
When we are in the Sulphur waterfall, I show Aziel in a video call how much fun we are having. He laughs about it and promises to be there the next time we visit this island. The islanders are friendly and less hectic than the people in New York, I notice. Hospitality takes precedence here over the constant urge to make money.
When we get back to the hotel, I'm exhausted.
We agree to rest for a few hours and have dinner later in the evening. It is already later in New York, so I decide to call Aziel again. He answers immediately and I see that he is at home in his bedroom. “You see I'm watching you too, Aziel. Because our no-sex regime is also for you”, I joke with him. Relaxed with his hand behind his head, he lays on the bed looking at me. “I have no problem with that, my days of experimenting are over, if that's what you're worried about, my love” he teases.
We discuss some work-related matters and after a light yawn from my side, we decide to talk further tomorrow. “What are you doing later in the evening?” Aziel asks before we finish. “We'll have a late dinner and then we'll see. Maybe see if there's a beach party or something." His eyes darken again. “Don't be out too late and stay close to Michelle. Don't go for a walk alone at night," he points out to me.
After two hours of sleep, Michelle calls.
They are on their way to the late restaurant and will be waiting for me there. I ask them to order me a light seafood meal and take a quick bath. When I enter the restaurant, the waitress just came in with the order. My luck, because I'm dying of hunger. We chat lightly at the table, Michelle and Rick are good company.
"Lady, this drink is being offered to you by the gentleman over there." A waitress stands in front of me with a liqueur on a tray. She points in a direction, where a heavenly handsome man holds up his glass in cheers. I smile back, take the offered drink and cheer back to him from a distance. He is sitting at a table with a few men and two ladies.
“Wow, you have an admirer. And he goes on the old fashion style. I like it!” Michelle whispers to me. I giggle girlishly. “That's the problem now. I am all modern. Old fashion is trash”, I let her know. Rick frowns. “Well, I know from experience that old fashion truly works. Michelle has fallen for it," he remarks gravely. Michelle's eyes widen with surprise. “What was so old-fashioned about your advances? You came right up to me and told me you would marry me one day. I almost fell off the banister I was sitting on. No old fashion there, pure modern brutality”, tells him with raised eyebrows.
While the two are bickering, we don't notice that my admirer has approached our table. He extends his hand to me and introduces himself neatly. “Dale Young, Surinamese by birth, but I live and work in New York,” he says politely. I get up and put my hand in his. When I stand straight, I just shrug his shoulders. I have to lift my head to look into his smokey brown eyes. His head is shaved on one side and his jet black long hair falls on one side of his face. On his neck there is a colored tattoo that is hard to dissect but is pretty sexy on him. When my eyes get to his lips, I imagine what amazing things they can do for me.
He chuckles and I come back to the present.
Gosh, I hope he didn't read my mind, though my eyes must have betrayed my lust. Three weeks without sex seem to take their toll.
“Loraine,” I whisper, deliberately omitting my last name. I don't want to let my scandals affect my new life for a while. “Would you like to sit with us, Dale? Thanks for the drink, I appreciate it," I say in a sultry voice that I know no man can resist. I hear Michelle and Rick laughing softly, I’ll surely hear more about this later but for now, I pay no attention to them. Before sitting down, Dale introduces himself to my friends.
“Are you here on holiday or business? I've finalized some business today and leave for home tomorrow. How long will you stay?” Dale turns out to be pleasant company and a perfect gentleman. When we are about to break up, he halts us. “What are you doing for the rest of the evening? There's some sort of harvest festival down the beach. So, a lot of food and drink will be available. Want to come along?”
He doesn't have to ask us twice. He signs his company on the other table and together we walk to our cars for a nice evening with new friends. In stead of driving with my friends, Dale takes me to his expensive sports car. “Are you ready for some adventure?”, he asks.
I am. …
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