I
April in Cayman was a pleasant time of year. The crowds of the high season are beginning to wind down. American college kids are back at school nursing their spring break hangovers and lamenting the fresh ink under their skin. The waters surrounding the three islands begin to warm into the 80's and a steady light breeze usually keeps a lid on the tropical heat.
Monique Milan looked forward to this time of year. She worked for an offshore fund administrator headquartered in Georgetown and the onset of spring signaled not only the end of the high tourist season but also her busy season at work. It also coincided with an annual global financial conference on the island that was well attended by financiers from around the world. Monique enjoyed catching up not only the investment managers that her company administered but also friends and contacts she had made at past conferences. Yes, Monique looked forward to April, it made her think of the poem
Spring
, by Edna St. Vincent Millay, especially the ending
April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
Tyler Fox, an investment manager from the United States, went to the bar. The sounds of the waves gently lapping the shore mixed with the ocean breeze rustling the fronds of the silver palms gave him a thirst for rum. The bartender poured three different liquors from bottles he did not recognize over ice, added what looked like orange juice and pineapple juice, added a splash of grenadine, shook it, poured it back into the glass, slid in a straw, and garnished it with an orange slice.
"Fancy" he said to the bartender who smiled his reply.
Tyler struck up a conversation with another conference attendee. She was an attractive woman. Thirty-something, he guessed, with dirty blond hair. The typical networking introduction revealed that she was a compliance professional for a large credit fund based in New York. She smiled and laughed at his jokes.
Monique approached the bar in the company of an older man. They were animated in their manner, laughing, chatting, and generally having a good time. She noticed Tyler right away. He was casual in his manner and his dress, a loose fitting, tropical print shirt, off white linen pants, and brown leather flip flops. He was handsome in his appearance. His shaved head perfectly shaped. His goatee adding just a touch of contrast. Attraction? Perhaps. Distraction? Most definitely.
Tyler also could not hide his distraction. He tried to carry on with the dirty blond to his left but he was drawn to this woman on his right. Her personality was captivating and her sex appeal undeniable. She was tall, 5'8" he estimated, with long dark hair, full lips, and gorgeous eyes behind fashionable glasses. They fell into conversation and pretty soon Tyler had lost interest in the other attendees altogether. He and Monique found a quiet corner to talk and sneak cigarettes and soon their small talk grew larger.
As the party was winding down the driver called out that the last shuttle was heading back to the hotel.
"I can drive you back." Monique offered. She was captivated by their current topic of conversation and was not ready to end the night.
"Are you sure?" Tyler asked. "I don't want to put you out." He continued.
"It's on the way and just past my office." She said. "I'll point out to you."
They made their way to the parking lot where she unlocked the doors to a black Porsche Cayenne. It was the nicest car he had seen on the island.
"Nice car." He said.
"Thanks" she said "it gets me to work and back."
They got in, strapped on their seat belts, and she started the car. She accelerated out of the parking lot and into the road. She pointed to a low rise office complex nearly to his hotel.
"That's where I spend my days." She said. "When I'm not playing tour guide to foreign bankers."
She pulled into the parking lot of his hotel and brought the car to a stop in a space at the far end of the lot. It was darker there and offered some, but not much, anonymity of darkness. She looked at him with her warm, dark eyes. With an unexpected aggressiveness, Tyler leaned in and crushed her lips with his. It was an unexpected burst of passion ignited by an evening of intellectual interchange. Each had become more comfortable with the other as they shared their life experiences, common interests, and embarrassing moments.
"Would you like to come in for a drink?" Tyler asked her.
"I would like to" she replied "but it's late and Cayman is a very small island. If you know what I mean."
"I understand." He said. "I hope you don't think me too forward and inappropriate."
"Very inappropriate." She said jokingly.
As he leaned in for another kiss she opened her mouth to his. His lips were firm yet soft. His was a taste that pleased her, yet its sweetness was imbued with a hint of cigarettes. An oral reminder of other small sins committed in their short time together.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked anxiously.
"Most definitely." She answered.
Tyler smiled and exited the vehicle. Monique leaned back against the head rest.
What the hell am I doing
? She thought.
The fact was, over the last couple years since her divorce Monique's libido had shifted into overdrive. Her sexual appetite since turning 40 was proving to be insatiable. When she first started noticing, she worried that she may have a chemical imbalance. She had a few on again off again boyfriends and had always enjoyed a satisfying sex life. Only, recently, she had not been completely satisfied. She found herself masturbating much more often than she ever had and fantasizing constantly.
The next morning Tyler burned through his rum induced fog with strong coffee, a toasted sesame bagel with cream cheese, and a banana. He made his way into the ballroom and settled into a chair at a table in the back corner. Once seated he opened his notebook, pulled out his pen and smartphone, and looked around the room. He hoped to spot Monique in order to position himself to randomly run into her at the break. His initial attempt to survey the room proved unsuccessful. She was nowhere to be found.
Tyler returned after the break to find his previous table to be full so he grabbed a spot at the next table over. At his original table, in the chair directly next to the one in which he previously sat, was a woman in a striking blue dress. Her long dark hair looked familiar.
Could that be her?
Tyler thought to himself. He shifted in his seat to try and get a better look. To get a glance of her face.
Monique had spotted Tyler as soon as he walked through the foyer Tuesday morning. He seemed to be walking in sort of a haze but she was impressed that he made the first session after they closed down the bar the night before. She thought that he might sit next to her in the ballroom but he was oblivious.
Typical guy.
