A/N Much thanks to the best betas in the world, Mandy the O and Musique et Amour; y'all are fabulous!
Christine stumbled into the assignment room the next morning, feeling as if she were moving in a fog. She heard some of the full time maids whispering and saw them pointing at her. Deciding that she was becoming paranoid on top of everything else, she shrugged it off and ignored them.
Christine still did not understand why they had a meeting every morning as the assignments really never changed. Once they had been dismissed, the maids left to begin their rounds. Natalia Rodriguez and a couple of her friends stayed back though, and as Christine passed them, she heard Natalia spit, "That's the one. That's the gringo puta."
Senora Guerriero overheard Natalia as well, and asked Christine to remain behind for a moment.
"Christine, why is Senora. Rodriguez calling you a whore?" she questioned.
Christine could not stop the heat that rushed into her cheeks.
"Christine!" she snapped. "You do understand that the consequences for being … indiscrete … with the guests is grounds for termination of your employment?"
"He isn't …" Christine closed her eyes and swallowed. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her supervisor and said, "He isn't a guest."
"A fellow staff member? But why would Senora Rodriguez be jealous of that?"
"Because I replaced her as the maid for his suite," Christine admitted in a low tone. "At his request, or so I was told."
Comprehension dawned in Senora Guerriero's eyes. "You may go now, Christine. But I would like to see you in my office once you complete your rounds. And do not clean Senor Erik's suite today. I will see to that one myself."
Realizing that she would not have to fret all day about running into Erik in his suite, Christine took this news with relief.
Her day flew by, and before she knew it, she was in her supervisor's office. Not only was Senora Guerriero there, but also the Property Manager for the Resort and the corporate attorney. Christine tried to hide her alarm as she was introduced to the group gathered there, and accepted the proffered seat gratefully.
"Christine, my dear, we have to ask you. Did Senor Erik …" pausing, she glanced around the room. Taking a deep breath, she resumed. "Did Senor Erik force himself on you at any time?"
Horrified, Christine burst out a quick and vehement denial. She was slightly embarrassed at how that sounded, but she could not let Erik's name be smeared in such an awful way, even if their encounters have been curious and questionable.
"Please, my dear, we understand that young ladies tend to … romanticize … sexual encounters. Are you certain that he did not force himself on you, by way of a threat, intimidation …"
Christine stated a firm "No!" The others glanced at each other, and her supervisor thanked her for her time.
Understanding she was being dismissed from the meeting, Christine rose and walked towards the door. But once there, she turned to the group and asked, "Why would you question me about Senor Erik's behavior?"
The attorney did not want that question answered, but Senora Guerriero insisted that Christine could be trusted. "Senora Rodriguez filed a formal complaint about him today, Christine. She claims that he … forced himself on her … several times this summer, and she was terrified to report it until she had been relieved of the duty of cleaning his suite."
Christine promptly walked back to her seat and sat down. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" she exclaimed indignantly. "First of all, she was replaced several days ago, yet she just complained today? Second of all, I had not been collecting the tip envelope from his suite until last night. Each one held a sizable amount of money. Perhaps Senora Rodriguez grew dependent on his tips?"
Waving his hand, the Property Manager ended the discussion and Christine had no choice but to leave her supervisor's office. She was furious, though, and needing to vent her anger, she went to the resort's exercise room.
It was deserted at this hour as most of the guests were getting ready for dinner. Christine worked the equipment with great determination, knowing that she would be sore the next day. Oh well, she thought. At least sore muscles are a pain I can deal with.
Christine had nearly finished her rounds the next day when Erik accosted her in the hall.
"I suppose you think I am grateful for your little act of interference on my behalf," he sneered at her.
"I didn't 'interfere on your behalf' for you, Erik. I did it for me."
"Oh, really, my dear? You'd rather be thought a whore than a victim?"
Christine struggled to hide the tears that sprang to her eyes at his words. "I don't know why you like to be so cruel to me," she began. "But I do not deserve that. What I meant," she continued, stopping his attempt at cutting her off, "is that I knew Senora Rodriguez was lying. I had to tell what I knew … that's what I meant when I said I did it for me."
"I do not need your help!" he roared at her. "Stay out of my business. This is not any concern of yours."
"So tell me one thing, and then I will leave you and your business alone," Christine said pleadingly. "Were the tips you left me …?" her voice trailed off; she realized she could not ask him the question after all. And she certainly did not want to hear his answer.
He smirked at her, and allowed his eyes to travel down her body, then back up again in a way that made Christine's insides twist into a painful knot. Looking her straight in the eye, he confirmed her worst fears: "Your tips, my dear, were for services rendered above and beyond the call of duty."
Although the blow was not physical, Christine stumbled backwards, nearly losing her balance as if she had been struck, her hand raising to her mouth. She spun on her heel and all but ran down the corridor to the service elevator. She had to get away from him; she had to get out of there fearing she was going to throw up.
Watching her flee, knowing he had wounded her terribly, Erik felt a rare stab of guilt. Shrugging it off, he told himself that it was for the best. He did not need her help. He did not need her. He did not need anyone.
Rafe was waiting for Christine when she returned to her room. She tried to hide her tears, but at his sympathetic embrace, the floodgates opened and she sobbed her heart out. At some point, Rafe had taken her room key and nudged her inside, away from curious eyes.
When she finally stopped crying, Rafe asked her what had happened. Christine was torn; she did not want to tell anyone what Erik had said to her. On the other hand, Rafe certainly had a right to know, the poor man had nearly drowned in her tears!
Although Christine wanted to talk, her throat was raw and parched from her tears, and she choked a few incoherent words out. "Erik ... Senor Erik ... my supervisor ... the tips ... she lied ... he said ..."
Indignation, coupled with hurt disbelief, suddenly surged through her, and she continued in a stronger voice. "Oh God, Rafe, you wouldn't believe what he said to me!" Her indignation was spent as suddenly as it had appeared, and she dissolved into sobs once again.
Shaking his head, Rafe went to make her a cup of tea. By time he returned, Christine had fallen asleep, the tracks of her tears still running down her cheeks. Covering her with a spare blanket, Rafe decided he was going to confront Erik.
Rafe searched the grounds, but could not find him. He debated about reporting the incident to the Property Manger, but once he began talking, he realized that he really had nothing concrete to report. Frustrated, he returned to Christine's room to check on her. She had awakened, and he asked her to tell him everything. She begged him to drop it, and he very reluctantly agreed.
"I know just what you need, Christine!" Rafe exclaimed. "We'll go to dinner, then find some fun. Freshen up and I'll be back "
Deciding she really was too young to spend Saturday night holed up in her room, Christine agreed.
After dinner, Rafe suggested they go to the piano bar. Christine didn't have the heart to refuse him, and steeling herself, she entered the bar. Rafe chose a much better table than the one Christine had occupied for most of the summer, and they danced the night away in each others' arms. Christine could almost forget – for a few moments at a time – who the piano player was … and what those hands had done to her.
Leaving the piano bar that night, Rafe questioned Christine about her plans.
"I go back to college after Labor Day," she said. "Actually, I'm starting my internship."
"Really?" asked Rafe. "Where?"
"An architectural firm in South Carolina," Christine answered. "It has a really unusual name, but it's been awarded a contract for an 'old town' traditional American 19th century village. I'm very excited about it, Rafe."
"Well, congratulations," he replied. "I guess this means I can't talk you into transferring to Tulane ?"
"Transferring to Tulane? My course work is done, I've just the internship to complete. Besides, it's nearly the end of August, Rafe! Even if I wanted to, it's much too late for the Fall semester."
He grudgingly conceded she was correct, then asked her if she had plans for the Thanksgiving weekend break.
Christine laughed out loud at that, shaking her head. November was way too far away to make plans for now.
Erik had begun to step into the hallway but pulled back into the shadows of his room's doorway when he heard Christine burst out laughing. He couldn't help but think bitterly to himself that she certainly had recovered quickly. Thinking it over, he decided she was an amazingly talented actress.
Rafe spent every spare moment he could with Christine over the next couple of weeks, and Erik was annoyed to see how often he spied the two of them together.
Management at the resort completed their investigation into Natalia's claims and, finding that they were unfounded, fired her.
Most of the part-time college staff had to leave the last weekend in August, so the resort threw a going away party for them in the Playa del Cantina, complete with karaoke, the last Saturday in August. Christine attended with Rafe and the liquor flowed freely. Rafe urged Christine to sing a duet with him, and she finally acquiesced.
The piano bar had closed for the evening, and Erik had to walk past the Playa del Cantina on his way to his suite. He could not believe the awful caterwauling sounds emanating from the room, and was disgusted to realize he could hear them clearly while waiting for his elevator. Just when he had enough and was going to take the stairs up to his suite, Christine and Rafe began their duet.
Singing of undying love and promises not to be broken, their voices merged and soared. Erik stood outside the Playa del Cantina, stunned, wrapped in the spell of her voice, and realized that one truly can feel one's heart break. The song ended and deathly silence fell over the room, before being broken by enthusiastic and rowdy applause. With his hand to his chest, Erik moved blindly away, past the elevator and out into the dark. Nobody noticed the solitary figure pacing the beach that night.
Once the party was over, Rafe and Christine stood outside the door to her room. Taking her in his arms, Rafe pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. Putting her arms around his neck, Christine tried to respond but she couldn't. Rafe's kiss was merely pleasant unlike the heated one she had experienced before. Her body remembered another man's kiss, another man's touch, and Christine reluctantly broke the embrace.
Rafe apologized for rushing her and gently wished her a good night. He was leaving the next day, but promised he would seek her out before he left.
True to his word, Rafe found Christine at breakfast the next morning. He again asked her about the Thanksgiving break, and Christine, feeling a stab of pity for the young man and longing for happier, simpler days, agreed. He decided he would fly into Charleston, then they could drive together to Savannah. They walked out together, and he gathered her into his arms and began kissing her. Christine stood there, unmoved, wishing that she could somehow start feeling something … anything! … in Rafe's arms. She broke the kiss off, and giving Rafe an apologetic look, rushed back into the Resort.
Rafe stood there for a few moments, watching her flee, misunderstanding her difficulty. He swore under his breath, and the masked man he cursed smiled grimly, before turning away, disgusted with himself. She means nothing to you … nothing! It matters not who she is with or what she is doing.
As Erik returned to his suite, he wondered how long it would take for him to make himself believe the lie.
Christine's final week at the resort fairly flew by. Because the majority of the part-timers had left to return to college, she had additional rooms assigned her. She didn't mind the extra workload. Not only did the additional money come in handy, it kept her busy enough that she didn't have time for a self-pity party. It was even more of a bonus that she fell into bed every night, too exhausted to brood.
Finally, Labor Day arrived and Christine left the resort. Before she left, Senora Guerriero thanked her, gave her the bonus she had earned by completing her contract, and invited her to return the following summer. Smiling politely, Christine thanked her and left. Had she the fore-thought to turn around and look up, she may have seen a man standing in his window, watching her go.
Erik convinced himself that he could finally find the peace which had eluded him since she intruded so rudely into his life. It did not take him long to conveniently forget – or refuse to remember – that he had any part in their tumultuous relationship. No, it was much easier to blame the entire mess on Christine, and he finally felt a certain relief that she was really and truly gone.