I hoped Alexis was who she seemed to be. The cocaine was starting to ebb but it didn’t affect my flow. Alexis was a burning candle and I was a high flying moth. Wherever we were going, I hoped we got there soon.

As if she read my thoughts, Alexis opened her knees another inch. “P-Town,” she said.

“That’s really far.”

“Not anymore.”

Alexis did drive as fast as she looked. We’d covered a huge distance in a very short time. Eighty to a hundred rushes things along.

“I come down all the time. I have an office to handle summer rentals. Around here you can pawn off a doghouse for a grand a week,” she chuckled, a satisfied look crossing her face.

“I guess you’re pretty good at your job,” I said.

“You too. Very good.”

“How so?”

“The only thing we’ve talked about is my family. You haven’t said a word about yourself and Lou. Somehow, I don’t think it’s accidental.”

Well, we were off greed, though the change wasn’t exactly a relief. “Lou is a helluva guy. A real character. Wheeling and dealing before Chicago slapped tomatoes on its hot dogs. Worked his way through the Democratic Party holding hands with Lord Mayor Daley The First. For a long time he had enormous political clout. He moved out here when his wife died. I was the closest thing to a living relative.”

Alexis reacted impatiently. “Lou isn’t the one I’m interested in.” To underscore her point Alexis added ten to the dial.

I resisted an automatic impulse to grab the strap. “I’m not sure how to begin,” I juked, worrying that fleshing out reality would undermine my heat-laden fantasies.

“How about the badge?”

Luck was running my way. Alexis picked an area that only occasionally bordered reality. It was a riff I could play, and did, emphasizing the lack of excitement and danger that defined this dick’s day-to-day.

I told her about my old mall-man gig, filling the next portion of the trip with numerous, humorous tales of human nature unleashed by consumer madness. I bypassed anything close to important to keep reality at bay and because Alexis thoroughly enjoyed stories that presented people in an absurd light. Her cynicism bothered me until I remembered who was choosing the stories. After that I relaxed and laughed as much as she.

As we pulled onto the single road leading into the arty, Portuguese fishing town, Alexis reluctantly slowed her signature machine. Unfortunately, the change in speed brought me a little closer to earth. What the hell was I doing next to this strange and beautiful woman? With no answer other than my original hard-on. But that answer was still good enough.

Alexis drove slowly down Main Street past rows of small inns and guesthouses until we came to the first of the art galleries. Garbage under glass, though in fairness, the colony contained talented artists and honest writers. Even had legitimate galleries away from the main drag.

Alexis brushed by packs of late night pedestrians still crowding the narrow sidewalk-less street. “Damnit!” she cursed.

“What’s the matter?”

Alexis shot her left thumb toward a small cedar shingled storefront. “I’d planned on the upstairs, but it’s still being used.”

I saw lights above the store and a long white Infinity in the driveway.

“Still?” I asked, facing front.

“I meant someone is up there.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” Now that a piece of the real world pierced the bubble of our open air excursion, it threatened to invite the rest.

“I’m not. My real estate business has a silent partner from New York who occasionally spends time in the apartment.”

“He doesn’t tell you?” Some of my disappointment slipped through.

“Usually. Sometimes he doesn’t know himself.”

“You’re sure he’s not waiting for you?”

Alexis frowned, “We’ve done a good job avoiding these kind of subjects. You want to change that now?”

I knew better, much better. “No thanks. Just hoped to, uh, to...” I glanced beneath the steering wheel, “...stretch my legs.”

Alexis smiled and cruised through the city center. Given the town’s renowned tolerance, I usually felt a certain ease, a sense of homeland. But now I sat muddled, confused whether to allow my relief full run or to let my libido hope Alexis had a backup.

The confusion wasn’t long lasting. We neared the eastern tip of the road and pulled into a motel parking lot. When Alexis stopped the Saab I released my seatbelt but she told me to stay where I was.

I shrugged and ogled her luscious body as she walked to the main door. Maybe she received professional courtesy. I settled back in the seat, lit a cigarette, and heard Billy Holiday moan, “I got it bad, and that ain’t good.” Blue Billy wasn’t singing just about herself.

But the longer I smoked the less I believed. I had it bad and it was gonna be good.

Alexis returned from the motel holding a large plastic bag. “Grab the champagne and glasses. We only have a few minutes if we don’t want to get soaked.”

It didn’t look like rain, but I did as told.

“Follow me.” Alexis took off her shoes, broke into a trot, and led us to a long block and boulder breakwater. She ran surefootedly across the seawall toward a lighthouse at the far end. Though she toted the bag, I had to hustle to keep pace. Now I understood her rush. The tide was rapidly rising and, while we weren’t in any danger, I preferred my pants dry.

“Where to?” I shouted over the ocean’s roar.

“The lighthouse.”

“Can we get inside?”

Alexis just kept running.

I grunted, paying attention to the tops of the uneven boulders. One thing to drown in a mad dog lust rush, another to stupidly slip into the ocean. Our race with the moon was close, but we made it across the rocks just as the water lapped at our feet.

We walked another dozen yards across the small island before Alexis pulled out an odd shaped key then climbed fire escape stairs to a metal door. “What are you waiting for?” she shouted over the ocean’s noise.

Too dangerous a question. I grabbed the iron handrail and followed her inside, clanging the metal shut. The tall, silo-like building was pockmarked with tiny, square windows carved through stone walls, the hollowness amplifying the sound of waves and wind. At regular intervals light from the overhead lamp-room cast brief, strobe-like effects.

“Come on,” Alexis said, her voice echoing. We climbed another set of circular metal stairs to a landing that stretched across the lighthouse’s diameter. Both sides of the platform were equipped with handrails and a king-size mattress covered the middle of the floor.

When we got to the mattress Alexis took a neatly folded sheet and comforter from the oversized bag.

“The lady who has everything,” I complimented when she pulled out a couple of gourmet food tins and a can opener.

“Not yet,” she murmured loud enough to hear.

I placed my hand on her shoulder. Alexis backed into me, her high-riding behind rubbing against my groin. My hand slid to the strip of naked skin pulling her closer. I heard the sharp intake of both our breaths when I ran my fingers underneath the tube-top and onto her large breast.

“If we don’t slow down we’ll end up rutting on our feet,” she said.

I didn’t care where we rutted. But Alexis stepped out of my grasp and pointed to the clean, fresh sheet. She lifted one side and I grabbed the other to spread it across the foam.

Alexis removed the champagne and plastic glasses from the bag while I stripped down to my shorts. I sat next to her, watching her extract the cork with a loud pop, the liquid spilling onto her long lush thighs. I tried to quench both thirsts by licking up the spill.

Bottle in hand, Alexis bent back onto her elbows, the brief skirt riding right up to her white silk panties. I raised my head and looked into smiling eyes. “Should I spill anymore?” she asked.

“No need,” I muttered, my lips against her thigh, tongue tracking a layer of invisible fuzz. She placed the soles of her feet on the mattress, and suddenly closed her legs.

“Come up here and bring the glasses,” she commanded imperiously, a tone that, at least this night, added to my excitement.

While Alexis poured, I retrieved my cigarettes, lit up, and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“I forgot an ashtray,” Alexis said from behind me, her fingernails digging into my naked back.

“I’ll use this,” I replied holding up my plastic glass, “and drink out of the bottle.” Mall-man to macho-man.

I felt her body shift behind me. When I twisted around, the tube-top and underpants, were heaped in a pile at the foot of the bed, her thick blonde curls completely hidden under the silk scarf she’d been wearing around her neck.

Alexis smiled past her bare breasts without a hint of shy.

But her smile did little to lessen my shock. With her hair tightly covered Alexis was the spitting image of her mother. Now the night consisted of three people, not two—and it wasn’t the idea of a simple menage a` trois that disturbed me. Suddenly I was cheating on Boots and Lou.