My brain was a little off center, foggy as an El Norte San Francisco morning. I had a hangover, the first one in probably two, three years, the first one that I can remember in a long time.
He started to pack up his computer and leave the office. We had already done the temptation salsa of the day just like the beautiful tropical birds outside the office window do. Puffing their iridescent plumage and leaping up and down, showing off their flirtations in an intricate balancing ballerina act on the slender branches of the vibrantly colored bugambilia that are so prolific here. I had asked him for a little legitimate help in the not so private electronics room where between us smiles and innuendos were passed in broken English and Spanish, where we both edged closer to the brink.
He made me shiver. I felt as sparkly as a high school girl’s eye shadow whenever I was around him and today I was defenseless. I had already told him he was the best looking man I have ever seen in my life and it was true. He made things inside me come unglued. As he tucked his laptop into his bag, I got up and walked nonchalantly, as a matter of fact the very definition of nonchalantly, out of the office and into the breeze way and waited for him to pass by. My brain wasn’t working but my body was. He stopped and looked at me- said something, I don’t remember what. My arms rose automatically and cupped his face, smoothing his long hair out of his gorgeous Antonio Banderas like, but Argentinean face. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, twice. Anyone could have come up the stairs or out of the office and seen us. But this is Mexico, kissing hello and good bye is a routine, a tradition, a custom – on the cheek. He had already broken that custom a week ago when he kissed me on the lips. I just took it further in the fog. I knew where this was going to end up. I knew, he knew, we both knew that each other knew - it just had to play itself out.
I went home and took a nap to cure my hang over. It didn’t work and I was due back at the office. Tired and groggy and still foggy I walked into our satellite office on Basilio Badillo where passer bys can come in and ask about real estate in Puerto Vallarta. We all do floor time there. I opened the clear glass door of the small fishbowl office and he was sitting behind the desk. I had no idea he would be there. He looked up in surprise and smiled. Our broker was there too, we both looked at him then looked back at each other frowned and smiled again. Fifteen minutes later our broker was gone and we were playing footse’ under the desk that we were sharing - he on one side me on the other. My back to the world, him facing the world as they walked by the aquarium office on their way to tropical dinners at the beach while we pretended to work but really only cared about where this unexpected encounter would lead us.
Even though I was there to relieve him he stayed a while longer so we could push the envelope a little more. Finally when he got up to leave, I stood up too -again on auto pilot. “Are you getting ready? he said.” “Yes, I said,” knowing perfectly well what he meant. I pulled him to me by the collar tabs. We are the exact same height, his lips effortlessly across from me, and his dark shining eyes looking straight into mine. He took me into his arms even though we each knew we were in full view of anybody that walked by, but at that point neither of us cared. I felt his warm lush lips touch mine then our lips part, I tasted his tongue as he pressed it into my mouth. I felt as if I were spinning, like those movie kisses when the camera pans quickly around the couple giving the viewer a whirling sense of erotic un-equilibrium. It was a long kiss, a kiss I longed for. When we finally separated he looked into my eyes “Again?” he said. All I could do was nod. He took my hand and pulled me into the little bodigita, closet, that was hidden behind a fake wall and closed the door behind us.