Part 13

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Paco took it as a good sign that Hernandez Flea market was still open three weeks later after the end of Summer Nights. The afternoon was growing late as he made his way through the grounds towards the office. He hoped Rita would be there, of course, but it was el Señor who opened the door, coming down the stairs just as Paco was about to head up.

"Mr. León!" Rita's father said.

"Señor Hernandez," Paco said, shaking his hand.

"Rita's in the office."

"Gracias, señor."

As brief as their contact was, Paco hoped el Señor's invitation to find Rita was some sort of a blessing. He made his way up the stairs, tapping on the door.

"Come in," Rita said.

The sight of her sitting at the desk as she always did made him feel nostalgic. She looked up at him, making his stomach flip as she smiled.

"About time," she said.

Paco reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving a banded stack of bills and dropping it onto the top of Rita's desk. She looked at it, then at him. "What's this?"

"Twelve thousand dollars."

"Why?"

"I retired."

She raised her eyebrows. "You did?"

"I'm done," he said. "And so is La Alma."

"What do you mean?"

"We merged," Paco replied. "With La Ele."

"I see," Rita said.

"That money is what was left over, my piece of La Alma," Paco said. "I want you to have it."

"Why?" she asked.

"It's twelve thousand dollars. It's the amount you were in the hole."

"Yeah, but we're not in the hole anymore," Rita told him.

"You made all the money back?"

Rita shook her head. "We're handing over the business. My dad is retiring, and so am I. From this, at least."

There was a lightness to her words, and now he recognized a lightness in her face as well. She didn't look distraught, she looked like a weight had been lifted.

"They're going to make part of it antiques."

"I see," Paco said, smirking at that. "Antiques."

Rita shrugged, grinning. "They'll learn the hard way on that one." She stood, coming around the desk to come to a stop in front of him. "So I don't need your money. But I could use a partner."

"Oh?" he said. "I just might be free. What's the new business plan?"

"I'm thinking of taking a vacation. Down south," she said. "I could use a translator. And maybe a bodyguard."

"And the compensation?"

"I think we can work something out," she said, her hand lingering on his collar before trailing down to rest on his chest.

"I like the sound of that," he said before taking her wrist and drawing her forward. Their lips met hungrily. The kiss felt different, freeing. "When can I start?"

Rita leaned against the desk as a sly smile spread across her lips. "Don't you mean where?"



Paco, as it turned out, was a good reliever of stress. His athletic background made him a good masseuse, his strong hands seeking out the places Rita held the most tension. Sometimes his hands gave way to his mouth, other times to another part of him, bringing her to every kind of release, ranging from ones that made her groan with lazy pleasure to ones that caused her whole body to tremble, her moans only muffled by the waves that crashed just feet away from the bungalow they had disappeared to weeks ago at the tip of Baja California Sur.

Rita dug her toes into the sand after one of these times, her body euphorically loose as she watched Paco swim just offshore. The summer may have been coming to a close, but it was still warm. It was crazy how much her life had changed from where she had been in the beginning of the season. Stressed out. Overworked. Miserable, at times. Now she was hundreds of miles away from Las Campas, her father had found someone to spend his days with, and Rita had made a cocky wrestler she met in a parking lot her lover. She had to admit, in spite of the randomness, she liked the current outlook of things.

Especially the view. Paco was out of the water, heading up the beach toward her, his swim trunks hanging low on his hips. He sat down next to her, digging his elbows into the sand behind him. "Pensadora," he told her. "What are you thinking?"

She ran her hand through his wet hair, the natural curl spiraling around her fingers. "Your hair is getting long."

"I know."

"You're not thinking of. . ."

He squinted up at her with one eye. "Nope."

Rita sighed, stretching her tanned legs further towards the receding sun. "What's next?" she asked.

Paco sat up, smiling at her. "Tacos?"


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