Page 7 of No Sweeter Poison

“Last time, I was hangry and suffering from a heatstroke. I just spent four hours eating the best food of my life and I’m caffeine high on like eight Cokes. Let’s go. I got this.”

I’m usually opposed to walking around strange cities at night, especially if the area seems to be deserted. However, judging by the line of people I see wrapped around the block I take it this area is known for its nightlife. It makes me feel safer walking home.

I nod and grab my purse while Karina downs the last of Coke number nine. “Tell whoever it was…thank you.” I give him a smile because it’s the best I can muster. “It was very kind of them.”

Deep down, I know it must’ve been Alejandro. He sat and spoke with us for about an hour, his dark hazel eyes never leaving mine. His voice was musical, lyrical, his beautiful accent woven into every word. We conversed mostly in English as I didn’t feel comfortable switching to Spanish with someone I wasn’t familiar with. I’m always self-conscious about my grammar and pronunciations because I’m out of practice. Karina speaks so perfectly I fear sounding uneducated next to her.

“Um…” Joni looks around but stays rooted to his place.

Stupidly, I look around too. And right on time because Alejandro is standing by the bar and catches my eye. I smile and wave then turn on the balls of my feet and loop my arm through Karina’s.

“Why are you trying to run out of here so fast!” she grumbles beside me. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but…you’re being such a prude.”

Rich, coming from little miss goodie-goodie herself. Between the two of us, I was always the one who was slightly more daring, could be tempted to break a few rules, and attended one too many parties in high school. Suddenly, we’ve switched places and the serious, pious, no-nonsense Karina has been swapped out for a far more adventurous kind. When Alejandro sat with us, I felt…I’m not sure. I don’t think I have the words for it. He’d turn in my direction, speak with unwavering eye contact, the intensity of his absolute focus zeroing in on me, and my toes would curl in my shoes. He’d laugh, say something that others might interpret as flirtatious, and my stomach would turn upside down.

Maybe it’s a defense mechanism, but I seem to have rejected the idea of him being interested in me before giving myself the chance to discern whether or not it was true. Before Brent, it was easier to be Karina’s wing-woman than stand on my own; to send the men in her direction while I sat back and enjoy my drink and listen to the music. Now, the shoe is on the other foot and I’m unsure of how to act when the woman receiving all the attention is me.

Or maybe I wasn’t receiving special attention at all. Maybe he’s polite. Hospitable. Gorgeous. Sexy as hell. Not at all the kind of guy I’d usually pursue back home which is equally as thrilling as it is intimidating. “Going so soon?”

Alejandro comes up from behind us and stops to say something to the host at the front door. The man disappears outside, and Karina and I stop in our tracks.

“Thank you for your hospitality. We had a wonderful evening,” I tell him. “But it’s getting late. We should head back to our hotel.”

Alejandro leans against the podium where he flips through a leatherbound book. When the host leads a family through the front doors, he scribbles something down, greets them in Spanish, and returns his attention to me. From afar I thought his eyes were brown, but I see now that they aren’t. They’re dark hazel, rimmed with black, and forest green around the iris. It’s a pretty color I’ve never seen in person before; only in movies.

“Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” he flicks his head in the direction of the stairs. “I was about to take my break. You can join me for a night cap.”

Karina digs her nails into my arm until I’m sure she’s drawn blood. The rejection dies on my lips. “I’m gonna get another Coke.” She points. “At the bar.”

Alejandro’s eyes squint slightly as he lifts his head, gaze flickering to the bar in question. T-shirt guy from earlier is there, laughing up a storm, the only bartender not in uniform but with the most patrons squeezed into his corner. For some reason he smiles and I get the feeling he knows something I don’t.

“Tell Diego I sent you.”

Karina all but takes off in the direction of the bar but not before whispering, “Alfalfa!” in my ear when she does. It’s our code word if things go south; Alfalfa means 911 Prima Emergency. I feel no safer having been reminded.

A different kind of awareness pulses through me, adrenaline-laced-danger invading my bloodstream. None of my body’s survival instincts kick in to save me as I take his outstretched hand. We walk up the winding iron staircase I once thought led to nowhere but does in fact have a destination. He stops at the end of a short hall and presses numbers on a security pad beside the door. I look away to give him privacy.

When I turn back, he’s looking at me.

I point. “You were entering numbers…”

I suddenly feel stupid for having said anything. He only smiles, a barely there expression, as the corners of his mouth curve upward.

“I didn’t want to…you know…look. Privacy.”

“It’s all right,” he says as we step into the dark apartment. “It’s 59-01-10.”

When the lights go on, he points to a similar number pad on the other side of the door. He closes it with a click and touches the bright blue screen. “To get out you tap the screen once, hit the numbers in order, then the open padlock button on the right. The left one is to lock.”

He demonstrates and the door locks and unlocks with ease. I’m almost tempted to ask why he has a lock on both sides of the door but the desire to mess around with the intricate system wins out in the end. He chuckles as I wave his hands away and start fiddling with the buttons, committing the numbers to memory.

There’s movement somewhere in the apartment and more lights go on, casting away the shadows in dark corners. Glass hitting glass and pouring liquid fill the silence.

With a bit of mischief he says, “So, what’s your poison?”

MONTANER’S CITY

Alejandro