Getaway Girlz by Joan Rylen Page A

what he’s doing is illegal.”
    The lady immediately clammed up. “Not sure I can tell her.”
    “Why not?” Kate asked. “She needs to know her husband isn’t dead and that he’s hangin’ all over floozies in Mexico!”
    The woman pulled herself together and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I just may have to do that,” she said and swiped under her eye one last time with the toilet paper. She threw the tissue in the trash and started out the door, then turned to Kate once more. “If I see him with that hussy again, I’m…I’m…I’m just gonna lose it!” She turned and stormed out.
    “Well, good luck,” Kate called after her.
    Kate looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She fixed a few stray strands of hair, then returned to the girls who informed her that Jon had been accosted by a crazy fan and had to leave.
    “Oh, that’s too bad.”
    “Yes, but he gave Vivian a nice, long peck on the cheek before he left,” Wendy teased. “And got us another round.”
    That was deserving of a cheers so they clinked glasses together.
    Kate decided a peck on the cheek would not suffice for Vivian’s birthday. She conspired with Wendy and they decided what she needed was a full-on birthday smooch from the hottest guy in the bar. “To cheer her up since Jon left,” was their excuse.
    They set off through the bar. Behind door number one they found a group of college guys who obviously had been there awhile. Though cute, they were too young and too drunk and were immediately ruled out.
    Door number two opened to a lone guy who sat at a corner table and didn’t look like he was there to have a good time. He had a ponytail, dark clothes and a scar on the left side of his face. He had a definite creep factor. Slam that door quick!
    Door number three revealed two hippies. They’d seen too much sun, too much weed and probably too many loose women. Slam that door too.
    Door number four was a big relief. A nice-looking, clean-cut guy with great teeth and a dark tan. Definitely an eight on the pale scale. His name was Pasqual and he was visiting from Sweden. He was their winner.
    Wendy and Kate were proud of their find and introduced the birthday girl. By way of his introduction, Pasqual swooped Vivian off her swing, into his arms, and within milliseconds his lips were pressed to hers.
    He is hot hot hot , Vivian thought as she kissed him back. He’s one of Sweden’s finest . Granted, she had never been to Sweden, but she thought he represented the country well. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe him. A few more kisses like this, and she would have herself a happy, happy birthday.
    After what felt like an eternity (a freakin’ fantastic eternity), Pasqual looked over at Wendy and Kate. “Was that what you had in mind?”
    Before they could respond, Lucy, who must have been in shock from witnessing the dynamic display, fell out of her swing, taking her margarita with her, and hit the floor. Her swing popped back and smacked her in the head.
    Vivian, still dizzy, had started to breathe again when she realized Pasqual had already put her back into her swing and helped Lucy up. Wendy and Kate pointed and laughed, unable to assist. Vivian grabbed the camera and snapped a quick picture. The caption would read “Don’t Drink and Swing.”
    Just as they got re-situated and put Pasqual on a swing in the middle of them, the bartender sauntered up and offered Vivian his hand. She didn’t know where she was going but grabbed it anyway and found herself pulled up onto the bar. She worried a little about flashing the patrons since her sundress was pretty short.
    What the heck , she decided. I’ll never see these people again .
    The bartender joined her on the bar and handed her a flaming drink layered in the colors of the Mexican flag. The music stopped and he began to sing. Sounded like a version of “La Cucaracha,” but she couldn’t interpret and Wendy was too busy laughing to help her out.
    Vivian