My heart soared, but I held back any response other than a nod before he stood and strolled to the bathroom.
The lounging area was a screened in porch, of sorts, overlooking the pool. It was full of Marco’s imported flowers from around the world. It was the closest I was ever allowed to being outside, because by standing at the back of the lounging area I couldn’t see the ocean, therefore people on the ocean couldn’t see me.
I went to the closet and put on my red and gold bikini. I swiped red lipstick on, then divided my hair into two low pigtails that lay over the front of my shoulders. A floppy, black sunhat and Hollywood sunglasses finished me off. Josef came over with his hair dripping. I grabbed a towel and patted it dry. He liked allowing us girls to take care of him. He stood still, even closed his eyes, while I ran the brush through his silky black hair. He thanked me with a kiss to the cheek, then put on a tiny black speedo, his package filling it to the max. And we were ready to go. Mia blew us both a kiss.
Luis was waiting to escort us. When we entered the lounging room he directed me straight back to the cushioned swing, and I sat obediently. The twang of a Spanish guitar and swish of maracas sailed up to us from the live music playing poolside. Josef went to the screened door and looked at Luis, who nodded for him to go. Josef disappeared through the door and down the set of stone steps to the pool. I had a perfect view of the pool from where I sat.
My eyes immediately found Mr. Douglas sipping something brown on ice—probably scotch—under an umbrella with Marco. My heart warmed at the sight of him in his sunglasses, and I had to scold myself.
A cloud moved and a streak of sunlight filtered into the lounging area. It was muted from the screens, but still so lovely. I needed it on my skin. I kicked off my high heels and stretched my legs out, letting the warm streak of light fall across my feet. I smiled to myself. Hello sunshine, old friend. I felt like I was doing something forbidden, stealing this moment with the sun. I looked up at Luis who gave me an uninterested glance. I turned my attention back to my feet, wiggling my toes.
Down by the pool Marco called Perla over as a salsa tune began. She was an excellent salsa dancer, and Marco loved to show her off. He must have told her to dance, because she began to move, smiling at Marco and Mr. Douglas in turn. Marco watched her with adoring ownership. Mr. Douglas was harder to read whenever he was in a group setting like this. His lips were tilted up, kind of like a smile, but not. He didn’t come across as rude, necessarily, but contemplative, as if his mind were always elsewhere. His surroundings seemed to only mildly amuse him.
As the song ended Mr. Douglas and the surrounding patrons clapped for Perla, who shyly took her place kneeling at Marco’s side. Someone must have come in through the veranda entrance because Marco smiled and stood. A short, thin man with a black ponytail came in and was greeted warmly by Marco. A blonde slave in a white minidress went to her knees and assumed the kneeling position when her master stopped to talk. She was as tall as her master. Probably European. Her hair nearly touched her ass. I felt kind of jealous of that hair. I liked mine, but I’d never been able to grow it out like that.
Marco motioned to the girl and they seemed to be talking about her. Maybe she was new. I didn’t recognize the patron. And then Marco was adding Mr. Douglas to the conversation. All three men laughed. I wished I could hear what they were saying.
Another of Marco’s men came into the sunroom, Paulo. He was usually in charge of me when Luis wasn’t around. The two of them started talking and I wished they’d be quiet so I could concentrate, not that I could hear anything anyway. Luis asked Paulo how newlywed life was, and then made a comment about Paulo’s fine young piece of ass wife and her sassy mouth. I held back an eye roll when Paulo started talking about how he pounded her into submission every night, and blah, blah, blah. Both men were cracking up laughing, being as vulgar as possible to impress one another.
I turned my attention back to Mr. Douglas, scooting to the far edge of the padded swing to get the best view possible. And then my stomach turned. The blonde slave was standing now, and moving between Mr. Douglas’s legs. He looked her over, giving a series of slow nods while Marco talked, I assumed asking him questions of what he thought of the girl.
I sat up taller.
No.
The girl was moving to sit on his lap.
No!
A frantic, nauseating jealousy rose up, choking me. She was sitting on his lap, looking far too pleased at the close-up of his handsome face. One of her lithe hands was around his shoulder and the other trailed up and down the middle of his chest.