Ten minutes before the time appointed by Diego, Holly was still in her room, debating on whether or not she should join him for dinner. She had called Roger several times to see if he would want to accompany her on a last stroll to the city, but he was nowhere to be found.
After a few minutes, she got up from her bed, thinking aloud: "What the hell, I got nothing better to do anyway."
She found Diego downstairs, sitting by himself at the best table of the patio, even more handsome than she remembered. She was glad she had decided to come after all. He looked pleased to see her and urged her to sit down.
"You came," he simply said.
"After the way you've been helping me, I figured it would be rude to refuse."
They were interrupted by the waiter who came to take Holly's order. All the while, she could feel Diego's eyes fixed upon her.
"You never told me how your appointment went," he finally said when the waiter had left.
"It went, let's keep it at that," she retorted, clearly put down by the memory.
"Please, do tell me, everything about your story is so mysterious."
She stared at him for a few seconds, trying to determine if he was sincere. She decided that he was, and besides, she really needed to share her burden with someone for a while. Talking to a stranger seemed much easier than confiding in Roger, all of a sudden. So, with the help of a good meal and a few glasses of excellent wine, she told him the whole story: her honeymoon, her kidnapping, supposedly by a crook named Guerrera, and her memory loss. He was a very attentive listener, and, to her surprise and delight, he even managed to make her laugh a few times with his comments.
"So, what are you going to do now?" he asked when she was finished.
"I'm so confused about what I'm supposed to be feeling right now, that I think the next thing I have to do is to try and get my memory back. Then, maybe, I'll know what to do about my life and my marriage."
"Do you have a plan?"
Holly laughed. "Yes, I plan on going back to my home, Springfield, to see my daughter and her husband."
"Why are you laughing?"
"Because I'd rather eat my own head off than go back. And if I don't laugh about it, I'll cry so hard I might never stop," she replied softly.
After a slight hesitation, he put a hand on hers. There was a light in his eyes that she could not quite make out. He looked puzzled, as if he was not able to make sense of her either.
"It must be hard for you to forgive the people that have hurt you so badly."
"Especially when those are the people who are supposed to love me the most…" her voice trailed off as her mind wandered once again into the past.
Before her very eyes, she could see Blake in a gorgeous wedding dress, and Ross was right beside her. She reached out to touch them, although she already knew they weren't real. They only had eyes for each other, obviously oblivious to the rest of the room. And when she searched her heart, she discovered that she couldn't be happier for them, because she had given her own heart to someone else.
She was brutally yanked back to reality. Diego was anxiously staring at her.
She got up, almost dropping her purse and excused herself to the lady's room. Hurriedly walking away, she was shocked to see Roger sitting at the far end of the patio, with no other than Brandi. No wonder she couldn't find him, she thought bitterly. She could tell by the look he gave her that he had seen her too. He got up and soon caught up with her.
Roger was furious.
"Who's the guy?" He asked as soon as she was within earshot.
"His name is Diego, he's staying at the hotel."
"Yeah, but why are you having dinner with him?"
"I don't like your tone."
Although she would never admit it, even under torture, there was something exciting about how furious he looked, as if he was ready to rip someone's heart out on her account,.
She replied, her voice remaining as smooth as always: "Don't I deserve a night out?"
Roger shook is head in disbelief.
"I can't believe that you'd rather spent the evening with that clown than with your husband. Have you given up on us, is that it? Is that what you're trying to let me know?"
Getting lectured had never sat to well with her, especially when the lecture came from Roger. As a result, instead of reassuring him, she fired back: "That's a bit rich coming from you, considering that you're spending the evening with Barbie over there!"
"Her name's Brandi."
"Whatever. Don't you think I know what your little game is? You're trying to make me jealous!"
Roger looked incredulous and then burst into laughter. "With Brandi? Come on, Holly! Brandi is not into me at all!"
"Of course not, you're positively ancient compared to her! But what about you? Are you into her?"
Roger hesitated for a moment and then said: "It's not like that."
"Stop taking me for a fool."
"Alright! Brandi's gay. Are you happy now?"
Holly took a look at the blonde and then stared at Roger. "Yeah, right."
"What, because she's sexy and feminine, she can't be gay? You are so full of it!"
Holly kept silent for a second. That Brandi was sure full of surprises. "Why are you dining with her?" she asked again.
"Did it ever occur to you that I might need a friend to talk to?"
"Did it ever occur to YOU that I might need to vent to someone too? Someone who's not involved in all of this mess?"
"Oh, I'm sure he's all ears!"
"You know what? If you can't trust me, then you can leave. I certainly didn't ask you to stick around."
Roger clenched his fists until his knuckles became white. "You're right. There so much heartache a man can take. I'm trough with this."
And with that, he turned around and left the patio.
"Fine, leave! I don't need you!" she called after him, but he didn't turn around.
After dinner, Guerrera came back to his room and slowly closed the door behind him. He could feel Holly's presence on the other side of the wall and it unsettled him. He wasn't used to feeling unsettled.
He went to the window while undoing his tie and tried to gather his thoughts. His plan had been so simple; charm her, seduce her and then dump her like the whore that she was. The same plan as usual, the plan that always worked, because they were all whores, right? He would really get a kick in showing her that he could own her.
He hadn't planned though on actually enjoying her company. He wasn't supposed to think her clever, witty and savvy. He certainly wasn't supposed to look forward to their next meeting.
He tossed his tie aside and stared at his reflection in the mirror, his gaze turning to steel. He had to move fast, before she recovered her memory, or else his cover would be blown. If she remembered what had happened in that truck in the jungle, than he would have to move on to plan B.
And he was pretty sure that she would not enjoy plan B.
Back in her room also, Holly picked up the phone, then put it down only to pick it up again. She quickly dialled the reception desk's number before she could change her mind. She needed to apologize to Roger, and to tell him about her last flashback. She needed to know if he was the person she had been looking for.
"Hello, could you give me the number from Mr. Thorpe's room? I think it's 222."
"I'm sorry Señora, but Mr. Thorpe has just checked out."
"Five minutes ago."
"Did he say where he was going?"
"He did not, I'm sorry."
Holly hung up and sat on her bed. Why did she always have to let pride get in the way? Now, Roger was gone and she had no one to blame but herself.