Mr. and Mrs Brewer
Chapter 1: Her smile, her eyes, My question
"All solo customers report to the security center of the hotel," yelled a middle aged man, with a thick black mustache. "There's an assassin on the loose and all solo customers are under suspicion, please report to the security immediately." People scurried about, beer bottles and shot glasses were thrown on the Spanish tile and all the young men and a few women fled out of the bar. I rushed to give the bartender some cash, after all he didn't have anything to do with it. All I had were hundreds, so I threw one at him with a "Thanks man," and got up from the sturdy, cherry stool. He looked at me with the wide eyes of a young man, maybe only 18, and said "Sir, this is much too much." But, I shook my head and said "Just keep it man, any guy who can make a sangria like that outta open his own bar, not work for one." But, the man stopped me and said "Señor, Señor, are you alone?" I looked around, stalling for time. Drinking the last bit of my beer, sticking my wallet back into my pocket. Then out of nowhere a girl, or woman rather emerged from the front of the bar and said, "No, no he's with me." She gave him a dazzling smile and her bold chocolate eyes looked as innocent as toddlers as she said in a slightly conspiratorial voice, with a hint of girly glee, "We're newly weds, we're on our honey moon." Another dazzling smile flashed across her animated face. She was playing this up like an old pro. The man smiled and said "God bless you both" and went back to finding solo customers. The mystery woman and I ran up the three flights of stairs and I pulled her into my suite on the top floor.
We leaned against the door, catching our breaths and listening intently. She lifted one of her hands from the door, which I noticed had a tattoo of a cross on the inside of her very tanned wrist, "Ruthie." "Martin, nice to meet you." We shook hands and as soon as our hands met, a surge of electricity ran through my body. I looked at her, she looked at me innocently, she didn't seem to have noticed anything. After about ten minutes the commotion downstairs had died down and we moved from the door. She looked around the room and saw what a "guy" I was. My ipod sprawled on my bed. A pair of jeans thrown over a chair, "school" papers strewn across the floor near the desk. And a mini glass refrigerator stocked with beer, leftover pizza, and slice of key lime pie. She stood there, looking totally out of place in her white eyelet strapless dress and heeled sandals amongst all of my clutter. Things were getting awkward and I knew we couldn't go downstairs down stairs for at least a couple hours, or at least I couldn't. So, I said "Where are you from?" as I moved my back pack off a chair and gestured for her to sit on it, while I headed about three feet away to the comfy brown suede couch. "The States." "Oh, me too." I replied. "What part?" I wondered aloud. "Oh you know, here, there, everywhere. My dad and I moved around a lot. He was in the military." This struck my interest, but the way the smile faded from her beautiful face let me know it was a sore subject. "Oh, I'm from California." " Aaah, that would explain your lack of sunburn, like the rest of us Statesmen." She concluded. I looked her over, not an inch of her was even slightly red, just an even, glowing complexion. She saw me look her over and she must have gotten the wrong impression, because the next thing I knew, she was standing up, orange clutch in hand and holding out her hand saying "Well, thank-you Martin, I see our work here is done. Have a safe trip back." She walked over to the door, after I purposely shook her hand just to feel the silky smoothness of her skin on mine, not at all realizing I was allowing her to leave. Then as she leaned in to turn the brass door knob I bounded across the room and said "Stop. Wait, don't go. You have the wrong idea, I honestly was just looking at you to see if I had on rose colored glasses and couldn't see this so-called "sunburn on you." I breathed sort of fast as I kept going "I was not, at all, trying to check you out." She raised an eyebrow at this and her big brown beautiful eyes looked at me with about as much trust as a banker has in a former robber. This pushed me on even more "I'm not that kinda guy and I'm not into you like that." "Let me prove it to you, tonight. You, me dinner and dancing at the restaurant down the street. I won't put a hand on you all night, aside from possibly dancing with you and offering my hand to you to help you get up, as any gentleman would do. Which is what I am, a gentleman." She looked at me with skeptism almost completely dominating her face except for one place, her eyes. The big beautiful, brown eyes said it all. Maybe, no, okay, I guess…. . "I mean after all," I said, we are newlyweds." This caused a slight laugh from her and my heart did a backflip in my stomach when she smiled. God, why is she doing this to me. I barely even know her, god all I know is that her names Ruth and she lives in the states. But, somehow those eyes and just everything about her pushed me on. "Please, pretty please." I begged almost like a toddler. But, hey it matched with those innocent eyes she'd flashed a while ago downstairs. "It would be a way for me to thank you, you saved my butt down there and I feel like I need to repay you." She looked at me and said "Well…."