They were shown to their table, the waiter in the lead. Viv wore a shimmering off-white caftan that flowed around her body, dropping to her ankles, revealing manicured pink toenails and low-heeled sandals. Even she had to admit she'd attracted a glance or two from older men as they made their way to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the steaming hot springs.
She felt proud of herself and her careful planning. Casual but elegant, knowing she'd managed to find the sweet spot for her age and body type. Not too fussy but definitely put together, as if she cared about her appearance as a mature woman. Viv hadn't felt this good since years ago, when she'd dressed to go to the theater with her former husband. A lot younger then, she'd dressed for him. But now she dressed for herself.
Seated, facing Rex, she unfolded her napkin with a slight smile. Basking in his admiring gaze, she glanced at the fairy lights surrounding the palm trees right outside their window. In no hurry, she casually picked up her menu.
Rex, already staring at selections, glanced over the top of his menu to look at her. When she moved her head he ducked his, not wanting to be observed. Viv knew the glance. This time she did not start telling herself she was too old to be appreciated for how she looked. This time she knew that her glow made her feel confident, and that feeling was ageless.
The shift in her attitude began that afternoon. Instead of running with the feeling of inadequacy, comparing herself to the other women around the pool, she lingered on her discomfort without judgment. She made a note of everything she felt.
Maybe it was the hour spent by the pool or the dip in the hot springs when she felt a subtle shift in her attitude. The salt water and gentle current enveloping her body made her feel more alive than she had in years. Appreciating herself for once, she wanted the feeling to last. From that moment she paid close attention to her feelings, especially as she lay next to him in the cabana, her eyes closed.
Later in the afternoon she left Rex in the bungalow with a smile. "I'm going for a stroll," she told him. She laid out her evening outfit on the bed. Since her skin felt rough from the salt residue, she decided to take a shower.
Once in the bathroom she undressed, dropping her suit and cover-up on the floor. Instead of ignoring her nakedness, she paused to run her hand over her arms and body. A shiver trickled up her spine. Then a moment of gratitude filled her.
This body has accompanied me for nearly sixty years. Through thick and thin, it's been my companion. Instead of being critical, I want to be appreciative.
Rather than turn toward the mirror, she deliberately ignored her reflection. I'm not doing that anymore, comparing my body to how I used to look or to a random woman at the pool.
She lifted her hand to her lips and licked the back, the tangy taste of salt on the tip of her tongue. She walked to the shower, turning the knobs and testing the temperature of the water.
There were three shower heads. One on each wall, and the overhead one in the middle. Ducking under the spray, she rubbed her skin with a fresh bar of soap, lifting her hand to smell the scent. As she ran the soap over her body, washing off the salt, she thought back to Rex.
He probably knew how pampered she’d feel staying at Three Bunch. He’d spent many weekends there before. Presumably with lots of female company. Viv shuddered. She didn’t want to think about that part. Don’t compare yourself, she cautioned.
As she sat across from him at dinner, she was fully composed, having a wonderful time.
She closed her menu as he openly stared at her.
"Thinking about the food?" he asked.
"Not really." She looked outside. Steam rose up from the hot springs, glimmering in the decorative lights.
They waited for their main course; the room held the low hum of voices. A quick glance over the room assured Viv there were mostly couples, even though faces were difficult to distinguish in the candlelight.
"Care for an olive?” Viv held up the small plate for Rex's inspection.
"No, thanks," he said, not removing his eyes from her face.
"So the food here is good?” She fidgeting with her napkin, avoiding his glance.
She knew her new awareness of herself would disappear once she stared into his mesmerizing eyes. She wanted to linger with herself a while longer.
"They have a famous chef on staff and serve fresh ingredients," he answered. "That's what people expect at Three Bunch. Everyone's willing to pay for the quality and service. Are you happy you came?"
"Very pleased," she said.
"And might I say you look intoxicating tonight?" His voice sounded husky with invitation.
"Yes you can," she assured him. She looked out the window, continuing to avoid his gaze.
Rex cleared his throat. "I have a surprise for this evening."
Viv's heart stopped. Here it comes…
"The Three Bunch Lounge booked us a table. A local crooner is performing at the bar."
She felt relieved. Her eyebrows raised. "Anyone I know?"
"That's the fun part. You do know him. Dean Marcella."
"The guy with the sneakers at Carmine's Fluff and Fold?" Viv said, intrigued.
"I thought you'd like that." He grinned. "Dean does side gigs in town. He's got a pretty good voice. Covers Sinatra tunes mostly. Doo be doo be doo," Rex sang in a low voice.
Viv grinned. "Shush. Someone will look over and recognize us." She ducked her face into her napkin.
"I was hoping we could sit in the back of the audience and not be noticed," he added.
At that moment the waiter arrived with their salad, giving Viv a chance to put her napkin back on her lap.
After dinner they walked to the lounge and were seated at the second table of the evening. Small tealight candles, along with strings of fairy lights, had been strategically placed around the room. Viv blinked, trying to see if she recognized anyone in the dim light. "This is very nice," she commented, realizing that “nice” hardly covered the intimate setting.
Seductive would be more like it.
Rex reached across the table to take her hand. "What?" he said, looking innocent. "We have to play the part of a couple, right? At least in public."
She didn't remove her hand. And to her satisfaction, she didn't feel overheated either. She leaned in closer to whisper. "Maybe we should leave. I don't think Pete and Beverly are here."
"It's hard to tell. Kinda dark and not everyone arrives ahead of time," he said.
At that moment a light shone toward the corner of the room, illuminating a platform that stood next to a grand piano. Viv was reminded of the instrument in the Nelsons' foyer—the piano with all the photos displayed on the closed lid.
Switching on a small light, the pianist sat down on the bench. He wore a tuxedo with tails. Hands poised over the keyboard, he began to play a familiar song. “Luck Be a Lady Tonight” rippled through the room. A jazz version, loose and open to interpretation. Viv tapped her toe.
A polite round of applause came at the last arpeggio. Then the spotlight focused on another man. He stood with his hand resting on the piano, and he was also wearing a tuxedo. Viv's eyes traveled to his shoes. "Is he wearing sneakers?" she whispered to Rex.
"We're not here to assess his footwear." Rex squeezed her hand.
She felt a tingle travel up her arm.
Viv slid her hand out from his, placing it in her lap. She knew she was being fickle. There was something about the suave Rex Redondo that made her want to resist. Even though only a day ago she was very hurt when she'd seen his suitcase packed with tools.
He brings out the contrary in me, she admitted to herself. Then her eyes caught sight of a familiar couple. A table with two chairs had been reserved for them close to the piano. Pete Langford stood behind a chair. Small in stature, the full head of hair—probably a toupee—was brushed back from his face.
Pete glanced over the room before helping his date be seated. Viv recognized Beverly Nelson, even in semi darkness. "Welcome to the Three Bunch Lounge," came the resonant voice of Dean Marcella. “I see we have a few regulars in the audience." His head dipped toward the table where Beverly and Peter sat.
Beverly gave a slight wave. She wore a white dress with fringe in three layers, looking like a flapper in the roaring twenties. Her hair had been combed in an updo.
"And for those of you who are new…" He grinned, his very white teeth sparkling in the spotlight. "I suggest that you order another round as soon as possible. The wait staff appreciates the tips!"
A ripple of laugher followed his remark. Then everyone grew silent. Dean drew the mic closer to his chin and began to sing in his deep baritone voice, "Fly me to the moon," as people clapped their approval.
Later that night, Viv closed the door to her bedroom. As she undressed, she thought about Rex and the evening. How he'd held her hand but not tried to kiss her, even when she'd made it clear she was sleeping alone.
"Thank you for the very pleasant evening. Who knew that private detective work would be so fun?” She'd emphasized the part about detective, hoping he'd realize it wasn't a date. Not exactly. Just an exotic locale. Where they investigated. Nothing more.
Sliding between the sheets, Viv realized that she'd only put off what she didn't want to face. At least not right now. That sometime soon she'd have to decide where her relationship with Rex would lead. And if she'd say yes to his offer and start a whole new life, become a business partner. Would the two be able to coexist?
Was she willing to have a brief fling at her age with someone who lived next door? Was she capable of having sex and keeping everything light? Or would she be the kind of woman who would get her feelings hurt and then have to awkwardly encounter him every day, living close by, when he'd moved on to other interests?
After some time Viv pushed away her concerns. I need to sleep. Semiconscious, she remembered the grand piano. The one at Carmine Nelson's wake.
Before Viv could recollect the significance, she fell asleep, her lips slightly parted.