Under the Carib Sun: An Adel Destin Crime Novel

PART 1: Chapters 8 - 14

● 8 ●

Adel walked into L’Entracte at a couple minutes past one and climbed onto one of the remaining free stools at the bar. He ordered a ti-punch from the bartender—different guy than from the night before—and turned around toward the dining room. Fiona was in the middle of taking an order from a handsome young couple at one of her tables. She wore another work shirt, clean for now, and had traded her cut-out denim shorts for a yellow mini-skirt. Adel stared at the curve of her breasts and ass, snapshots of their night together exploding in his mind. He had to readjust himself on his barstool, took a sip of ti-punch.

Fiona noticed him then, and he discreetly waved to her. She answered him with a faint nod and went back to scribbling on her pad of paper. When she was finished she tucked the pad in her apron, the couple’s menus under one arm, and came toward him.

“Hey,” she smiled.

“I was wondering where you went this morning.”

“Forgot I had to work lunch today.”

“Shit. You must be exhausted.”

“Kept a li’l mucho just for that,” she winked with a reflexive sniffle. Mucho was one of the name people used for blow on the island. “You’re gonna eat something?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fucking starving.”

“Cool.”

She handed him a menu, then leaned closer, Adel expecting a kiss or something. Instead, she murmured in his ear. “Listen, last night was great, and you can come visit me here as often as you want. But just so you know, I never fuck the same person twice.” She pulled away, still smiling, and nodded to the bartender. “David will take your order when you’re ready.”

Then she walked away, leaving Adel suddenly not as hungry as he thought he was.

About an hour later Adel stepped onto the narrow deck of l’Oubli’s terrace, empty except for one table, some mustached, leathery old man reading the paper. It was the same inside, with only a couple of tables occupied. No one at the counter save for a lone waitress conversing with the bartender with her elbow on the counter, her chin resting on the heel of her hand. It looked dark and cool in there, like in a cave.

Adel pulled up a chair in the shade of the awning and sat down, taking off his sunglasses and squinting at the bright deserted street. Quiet time of day, people back at work after their lunch break or gone to take a nap, he figured. He gazed at the slice of docks visible from his table, a few motorboats moored there, sailboats anchored farther behind in the harbor, and his thoughts drifted back to Fiona’s rebuff earlier.

Oh, well.

He’d known the kind of girl she was the second he’d laid eyes on her.

Plenty more fish in the sea. Especially here.

Adel followed a pelican’s kamikaze-dive into the water and smiled, then pulled his pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of his cargo shorts. He stuck one between his lips and patted himself for his lighter, realizing he’d left it on the bar at l’Entracte just as the waitress arrived next to him.

“Good afternoon.”

Adel looked at her. It was the same girl who’d come by Fiona’s place earlier, except she struck him as even more beautiful now.

“Well, hello again.”

“Hey,” she smiled. “Feeling better?”

“Much. Thanks for asking.”