"Did you complain to management?"

"What's the point? They have nothing else." Too complacent, he thought.

"Did you get meal chits or a drink card for here?"

She stared at him and set her glass down. "No actually."

"No!" Miller was stunned. He called Mendoza over and told him what she'd said.

"It happens. It's not my call." He gave her a smile that seemed a little too personal for Miller's liking.

"Well, I'm making it mine." Miller placed a hand on her smooth arm and tugged gently. "You're coming with me. We'll get this sorted. There's no way they're gonna shortchange you . . . Miss . . . Senorita . . . ?"

She allowed him to help her off the stool and let his hand stay on her arm. "Billy. It's instead of Wilhelmina, a name my dear mother bestowed while she was still heavily drugged in the delivery room."

"Mine's Miller. Miller Hunt. Very pleased to meet you, Billy. Come on, I happen to know the manager already and I think I can swing a little weight considering we share the same inconvenience."

She gave Mendoza a humourous smile and a tiny finger wave as Miller led her around the bar and back up the steps to the resort lobby. "This is very chivalrous of you, Miller."

"My complete pleasure, Billy," he answered, giddy with the hasty first name basis. The stairway narrowed and he let her go ahead, swallowing at the view preceding him up to the lobby. That and the overpowering scent of the many garden flowers had almost the same effect as the drink and he pinched the top of his nose and blinked hard to regain his focus.

Now Miller! Now! Make your move! "Maybe- uh, maybe we could uhm, have some lunch together later . . . after we sort this out?" The tinkle of her laugh puzzled him but he put it aside as they approached the reservation island.

"I'd like to see Mister Estrada please." Miller watched as the young lady at the desk shot a look at Billy and then back to Miller.

"Is there something I can help you with, Senor Hunt?"

"Yes, you can get Mister Estrada out here right now." He gave a firm nod to Billy and blinked as he imagined catching a fleeting grin on her face.

The woman glanced at Billy again and then looked down for a moment. "Certainly, Senor. I'll just be a moment."

Miller puffed slightly and leaned on the counter. "Gotta go right to the top if you want results."

"I agree." She put her elbows behind her on the counter and leaned back, drawing Miller's eyes like metal to a magnet. He was still gaping when the voice of Carlos Estrada jarred him and he jerked upright, clearing his throat.

"Senor Hunt. You wished to see me?" He stared at Billy with a questioning look and waited.

"I did. It seems that Senorita . . . uh- Miss . . . uh- this young woman was a victim of your storm as was I and we have been comparing notes on the treatment your resort has provided. It would appear that Miss- that she was not offered any meal chits nor any complimentary bar card and I would like to point out that her situation is no less inconvenient than my own and I think you should−"

The sudden laughter that broke out around him stopped Miller in his tracks and his mouth fell open as Billy threw her arms about Estrada's neck and they hugged happily. She released the manager and turned to Miller.

"I'm sorry Miller. I just couldn't resist your determined interest in my story. This is my father. I am Billy Estrada."

He stood stunned and speechless. The heat of a crimson blush crept up his neck onto his face like mercury in a human thermometer and his shirt failed to soak up the gallons of perspiration threatening to flood his torso. The circle of smiling faces blurred as he felt his humiliation slowly shift to anger and when he finally spoke it was in a tiny mouse voice.

"That's one on me, I guess."

Billy took his arm, pressing the previously coveted cleavage, warmly against him. "Don't be angry, you were just so- so charming and intent. It was just a joke . . . a joke too good to ignore. You can take a joke, right?"

"I suppose I can," he said, relaxing and losing his track as she squeezed his arm tighter. "Does this mean you really do have a room here after all?"

She let his arm go and he moaned softly. "No, actually. I really am in the stupid meeting room."

Carlos clasped his fingers together. "When you come down without announcing, Billy, it's what happens." He gave a Miller a helpless look. "They think because I'm the manager I can magically provide accommodation whenever they want it."

"They?" Miller asked.

"Billy has two sisters. Fortunately they didn't come down this time." He gave her a final hug, shook Miller's hand and begged off to take care of business.

"Are you okay?" She took his arm again and he nodded. He was now. "Am I still invited for lunch?"

"I figured you'd be eating with management since your room has no amenities." He heard the edge in his words and he immediately regretted doing anything that might cause her to let go of his arm. Instead, he placed his hand over hers, crunching closer, and made his request again . . . officially.

"I have meal chits for Fonda Anita."

"I know a better place. Let's get a cab." She hauled him toward the driveway and Miller suddenly worried about his finances. Wining and dining the manager's daughter might not come under the heading of budget meals.

Billy

They bounced out to the drive where several of the drivers called to her and waved familiarly. Billy waved back and led him to a bright, new looking van with the resort logo emblazoned on the door.

"Juan, El Diaz, por favor." She opened the door and pushed Miller in ahead, flopping next to him in the back, thigh to thigh. Juan obeyed immediately starting the van and swinging it smartly around the circle and up the long drive.

"What is El Diaz?"

"You'll see. You'll love it." She wriggled on the seat and looked out the window. Miller sat very still, barely breathing as her hand dropped to his knee. He turned toward her but she was watching the scenery and the knee might as well have been a twig but it never moved, just burned like fire.

Juan called over his shoulder in a stream of Spanish and Billy chuckled, replying with equal fluidity and speed.

"What did he say?"

"He wants to know if you're my boyfriend."

"Aaah . . . "

"I told him it was none of his business." She laughed again, that musical sound that tickled his ears and sent bumps along his arms.

She hadn't said a firm, no. Now that was interesting. "Do uh- don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Hundreds." She moved her hand away and he winced.

"Hundreds?"

"When your father manages a place like Windy Palms they come out like worms at night." Her voice hardened and Miller suspected some unhappy alliances. He stayed quiet watching the landscape flash by with the resident bony cattle grazing at the side of the road, oblivious to the traffic and the scrawny chickens pecking away under their feet.

First day and he was having lunch with his fantasy from the plane. This was his dream come true. This would be a vacation to remember. He relaxed and let the scenery occupy his eyes while his mind went places that made him blush. Endless banana groves on both sides of the road seemed to be the only thing with any discipline and even they appeared tattered looking.

The glint of sun on water caught his eye and at the same time Juan made a tight left turn sending him into Billy. He put a hand down to brace himself and found it jammed against her bottom on the seat.

"Sorry . . . took me by surprise." He moved away and licked his lips nervously. Billy paid no attention, instead she rattled off a few more sentences in Spanish and Juan nodded his head without replying.

"What now?"

"Just reminding him that I want to be on the water side of the facility. It's much nicer and cooler as well."

"Cooler I could certainly use." He blushed again as her lip cricked.

The van made a sharp right turn into a hole in a large hedge of bougainvillea and as Billy leaned against Miller her warm skin felt like a branding iron on his arm. Juan gave a short toot on the horn and then swung past a tall man with a large straw hat pulled low over his eyes. The man lifted a casual hand as they passed then went through a door in the low building and disappeared. The van stopped and Billy opened the door.

"C'mon, Miller." She leaned in the passenger window of the front and rattled some instructions to Juan, slapped the side of the van and stood back as it peeled away. She turned and took Miller's arm and started toward a patio under a lattice roof covered in flowers. "He'll pick us up in a couple of hours."

"Your private driver?"

"Heck no, I use them all. I try to keep it even and fair."

"That's considerate." He ducked a hanging pot and moved behind her as they crossed the patio.

"Yeah, considering I don't pay." She laughed and did a little wiggle around a couple of chairs into the arms of a very suave looking older gentleman. Miller paused, a sudden flash of jealousy zipping through him.

"Billy, it has been too long."

She kissed his cheek and stepped back taking Miller's hand. "This is Miller Hunt, my friend," she pulled him forward, "meet Senor Gregory Stanza, the owner of this wonderful establishment." The two men shook hands and exchanged polite greetings.

"This is Miller's first visit to Mexico and your marvelous restaurant; I wanted it to be a visit to remember for him."

"I am of course flattered that you chose my humble business, Billy. Come I will seat you and have drinks sent to your table." They followed Gregory to a quiet corner of the patio where a muscular looking table with leather seats and a hanging lamp held a spectacular view of the ocean and a large percentage of the coastline.

A soft breeze fluttered the petals of the cut flowers in the centerpiece vase. Gregory held their chairs and arranged the dark blue napkins on their laps then swept away with a string of orders in Spanish to an invisible staff. Along the coast of golden beach, palms leaned toward the water as if in anticipation. A number of sunbathers scattered about like multi-coloured driftwood, lay still in their wispy shadows. A few children dared the heat to excavate the shoreline and fill small plastic pails.

He sucked in a lungful of fresh air and gave her a goofy smile. "This certainly is a wow view," Miller said.

"It's my favourite place. Gregory is an old family friend of my mother's folks. She worked with him before she married Carlos."

"You call your father by his first name?"

"He is actually my stepfather. Mom remarried after my real dad died of heart trouble when he was fairly young."

"I'm sorry. So is your mother down here too?"

"Gawd no! She hates the place." Miller looked surprised. "But you said she worked here once, she must have lived here too."

"No, I just said she worked with Gregory. It was in California not Mexico. She met Carlos at a convention in California and they eloped after a few mad nights of infatuation."

"I guess I don't understand."

"You don't understand infatuation?"

"No- I mean-" A young waiter slid up to the table, cutting off his reply, with a tray containing two large, pink drinks with pineapple slices stuck on the rims and a bowl of brown chips and a tiny dish of a green pasty looking substance.

"Gracias, Henry." Billy beamed at the boy and he bowed himself away, grinning ear to ear.

"You'll love this." She picked up a chip, wiped it in the green paste and slipped into her mouth. Miller followed its journey between her lush lips with a guilty cough. Immediately she put those same lips about the straw in her drink and sipped hard then sat back and let out a loud, whew!

Miller smiled uncertainly. "You'll have to explain that reaction."

"Try it yourself. Dip some salsa, set it on your tongue and then take a big sip of your drink as you chew and swallow."

Miller shifted his shoulders and took up her dare. Fortunately they were next to a railing that looked over some bushes because the drink blew out of Miller's nose like a fire hose. "Good God!" He choked and coughed, frantically reaching for a glass of water. Billy laughed and clapped her hands as she watched his struggles.

"Oh that was beautiful!" She clapped again. "That was probably a nine and a half reaction; nobody ever did it that well."

Miller gulped down most of the water and wiped his mouth on the napkin. His lips were numb and his tongue felt like it was on a griddle. "Jesus! What's in that stuff?" He pushed the chips away and tried another sip of his drink. The cool liquid seemed to quell the burning sensation and his lips even returned to normal. He kept sipping.

"That's what you were supposed to do while you chewed." She laughed again. "It's called, La pistola de arpón."

"That's gun something, right?"

"Very good. It means harpoon gun. The result, when not done properly, feels like someone shot your tongue with a harpoon."

"Obviously I didn't do it properly. Jesus, that was hot. It seems everything I've tried down here so far has come as an assault."

"Gregory is fixing us a special lunch so we don't have to order ourselves." She sipped her own drink and let her attention drift to the amazing view.

"Something palatable I hope... less volcanic."

She turned back and smiled. "Here comes the lunch crowd. El Diaz is always busy at lunchtime."