Page 8 of Out of Office
Something about the hostel called to me, a sense of peace and relaxation that reached out even through the computer screen. A sense of a vacation not for a reward or a goal achieved, but for self-care, and reconnection with my inner self. A time that required no permission, no negotiation with myself, and certainly not with my mother.
Thoughts swirled as I considered my options.
One: I could politely say no and continue with my arrangements. That option had merit; it required zero emotional requirements to socialize and expend any effort to be charming. But I would miss Adrián’s company, and the new energy he showed in my apartment today intrigued me.
Two: I could say yes, keep things friendly, and enjoy his family hostel while ensuring I put all my walls up. That would probably buy me some alone time and again no emotional effort.
Three: I could say yes and go with the flow, enjoy my time with Adrián, let him take me around to explore, and who knows, maybe we got to explore each other in turn. That option required a lot of socializing and probably would leave my “extroversion in case of emergency tank” drained, but...it might also get me some action. And I was in dire need of action. Things had been pitiful in that department for a long while—double digits month count.
Versions of my two weeks swirled like pages in a hardback, each of them vastly different. After pushing away from the dining room table, I paced the living area back and forth, wondering what the right decision would be. My cell phone burned a hole in my hand as I contemplated the smart thing to do.
A very persistent voice in the back of my head reminded me that this time was to relax, replenish, and disconnect. Would spending time with Adrián achieve that? My tank didn’t fill when being social; I just didn’t work that way. A quiet room, snacks, a book, or a movie were the only ways I could recover from grueling day-to-day meetings, networking, and all the necessary peopling my career required. I could turn it on like the best of them, but it drained all my battery, and solitude was the prefect charger. But another voice insisted my sexual tank needed more than replenishing. It needed a complete redesign, three coats of paint, some sprinkles, and glitter for shits and giggles.
Conflicted, I did the only thing I could think of.
“Hey, gorgeous, how are you?” Gino immediately responded to my video call. My heart instantly lightened at the sight of him.
“Oh please, you say that to all the boys,” I teased.
“Nah, I tell the boys other things, but I don’t want to scandalize you.” Gino’s deep chuckle made me homesick. A call with Mom had me wanting to stay in Panamá for ten more weeks, but just the sight of Gino made me want to get the next flight and go and hang out with my bestie. He was the only person allowed in my charging sessions, and his chatter never drained my batteries. I always wondered why until one day I noticed I’d been sitting next to Gino for three hours and we hadn’t exchanged a word. I’d asked him why he was so quiet and he said, “Because you needed me to be.”
“What’s up, Gen? I’m getting ready to go on this date.”
“Ohhh, let me see what you wearing! You’re really into this new dude, but I haven’t approved of him yet. I need to meet him.”
Gino dutifully propped his phone and showed me the pink shorts and white linen shirt he had on. Then he turned around slowly to give me the full effect. Not for nothing, but my friend was a really sexy bear with his deep walnut skin, cornrows, thick beard, thick everything, and the brightest grin you’d ever see. And the men who dated him couldn’t get enough of his rugged but sweet personality.
“Damn, you gonna kill him with that booty,” I joked.
“Girl, here I am wearing my hoochie shorts, and it’s not even spring.”
“Boy, please, end of February in South Florida might as well be early summer.”
“Not that I don’t want to stay on the phone and chat with you, but I gotta go soon, so spill.”
The urge to roll my eyes tugged at me, but I couldn’t clap back. After all, he had known me since we were both in kindergarten. I couldn’t bluff my way with Gino.
“My driver invited me to stay at his hostel for two weeks.”
“Oh...his hostel? Is this where you get kidnapped in a foreign country and never return to me?” Gino said as the image from his phone tilted, and his full face framed up close and personal.
“Ugh, why did I bother calling you? This isn’t a productive use of my time. You can’t take things seriously.” I held back laughter when he reared the phone back, then zoomed the camera in until all I saw was one eyeball and a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
“I would like you to know that EYE had plans, so YOU are the one wasting MY time, Ms. Funny.”
“Damn, it’s like that?”
“You know what time it is, Ms. Gen. So, you want me to quarterback this decision for you?”
“Ahh, sure?” I said. Shit, he’d explained this before, but I remained clueless.
“Damn, with the number of times I’ve taken you to Dolphin games, what have you retained?”
“The tight pants and all the melanin,” I whined, and Gino cackled.
“You ain’t lying. Listen. You’ve been talking about this man for weeks, months. I mean, at this point, I feel like if I bump into Mr. Sexy Driver with the smooth sexy-ass grin, with those tight filled pants that—”
“I’ve lost you now,” I complained.