Room with a View

Chapter 12 - Cracks Widening

Winston Graves slouched on a sofa in one of the conversation areas of the lower lobby, his replacement jacket hanging open and his tie half undone. A young waiter stood by to take his drink order-one of many since the debacle at the bar. Billy finally found him, moping and drinking, and she sat across from him, her long legs crossed and one foot bouncing slightly in boredom. Winston held out his glass and ordered another then sat back sulking.

"It was an accident, Winston. I don't see why you're so upset. Nobody really saw what happened and if you hadn't yelled so loudly they likely never would have. As it was, they only know you had to change your jacket."

"When I want advice from you I'll specify it on the rental agreement," he answered nastily, the excessive alcohol intruding. Billy gritted her teeth and stared at him. "Speaking of which, after this drink I think we should start seeing that I get my money's worth."

"The deal was to be on your arm for the party, Winston, it didn't include any other activities and I can tell you right now, it won't." She gathered her purse and stood, smoothing her gown and looking down at him.

"We'll see what Carlos has to say about that. You just sit back down and shut up."

"Good night, Winston." Billy spun on her heel and walked away. Winston shouted after her and shoved himself up from the sofa just as the waiter was offering his fresh drink. Winston's arm hit the glass and spilled the drink all over his trousers.

"You incompetent idiot!' He shoved the glass away and then hit the young man in the face, knocking him and his tray over the arm of a chair.

Billy turned in time to see the assault and she hurried back to the young man, helping him up and speaking comfortingly in Spanish. They shared a few more words and then the waiter fled the lounge and Billy turned to Winston.

"Get him back here! I want a goddamn apology."

"You are drunk and I think you should just get yourself back to your room and calm down. The boy didn't spill the drink it was your own clumsiness. If anyone is owed an apology it's him."

"I'll show you who's clumsy you arrogant piece of trash." He started around the end of the sofa and whacked his shin on the coffee table and blundered down in squealing pain. Billy marched up to the lobby and spoke to Helen who called for Carlos on the desk phone.

Several couples entered the lounge and went down to the lower lobby. Billy could hear some laughter and voices raised taunting Winston. Things seemed to be calmer and she waited by reception for her father. Carlos listened and wagged his head in dismay. There would be much trouble from this. Winston Graves was not a man to be humiliated nor scorned.

He called for security to see that Winston was returned to his bungalow safely and without further incident then he told Billy to turn in for the night and be prepared for some kind of reckoning the next day.

"I did nothing to be reckoned with, Carlos so don't try using me as a salve for that pig's behaviour." She gave him a peck on the cheek and left for her room. He sagged and shook his head as he felt Helen place a tender hand on his arm and speak soothingly in his ear.

Charles Ortiz, the chief of resort security, escorted Winston back to his villa and saw him inside for the night. Winston complained the entire time, calling Charles several derogatory names and threatening all kinds of retribution on the resort. Charles swallowed the abuse with immense restraint, vowing to tongue-lash Hector until he crumbled. It angered him that his second in command was nowhere to be found and he had to take charge of a drunken guest.

He thanked his lucky stars that he was available, having just arrived back at his office on the grounds. After all his planning, he couldn't have any glitches now. The accidental discovery of the cache under Graves' villa floor tiles triggered the path to his future. He wasn't sure why Graves had the hiding place or where the money he'd seen came from and just taking it seemed far too risky without that knowledge so he had embarked on a more sinister path.

A pure white, full moon spread a distinct path across the water and bathed the living room in a wash of light. Winston stood unsteadily against the railing glowering out at the magical vista, his liquor-soaked thoughts boiling at being shunned by Billy and humiliated in front of the entire resort. He yanked off the loaner coat and threw it over the rail then turned, tore off his tie and took out his phone. He knew somebody who would do as they were told and he was about to make sure they did.

Shelia answered her cell phone knowing who it would be but unable to ignore answering in spite of her situation. Gary was running his hands all over her body and kissing her breasts with growing urgency. Winston sounded crude and aggressively drunk and when she tried to placate him he became worse. Too much was at stake to have a falling out with Winston now.

She told him that she was down near the Dive Shop on the beach and that she was really too tired to make her way all the way up to his villa, hoping to put a damper on his demands but instead he managed another string of threats that warned her she'd better be there when he arrived.

"I have to go right away. That was Winston."

"Shit, tell him you're off duty." Gary continued his assault.

"Gary, off. Now!" She pushed him away and climbed out of his bed. "You saw what happened tonight. He's madder than hell and wanting to take it out on somebody. If I can calm him down and it isn't too late, I'll come back-I'd like to see where you were headed." The last was said with an eye to keeping Gary pacified at least temporarily.

"What do you mean, calm him down?"

She did up her dress and stood in her shoes. "Please now, not jealousy, surely." He pulled a face and pouted as she pecked him on the cheek and left. He always felt there was something more going on between those two. He climbed out of bed and grabbed his clothes.

Shelia rehearsed a few scenarios for when he arrived, hoping to get him to see reason and not make her evening any more difficult. She stood up from the bench outside the Dive Shop as a figure made its way clumsily across the sand. Winston staggered to a swaying halt in front of her, his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. He was still in the remainder of his evening's outfit and it looked a mess.

"This is madness, Winston. You need to collect yourself and get some rest; things will be better tomorrow. That was a monumental over reaction to what happened. It was so unlike you but it will fade quickly; there's always something new to grab everyone's attention. There is too much at stake for you to go off on a drunken rant now."

He stood in front of her, swaying, his face contorting even more as he listened and when she finished he slapped her hard across the face sending her stumbling backwards over the edge of the bench. Shelia lay on the sand staring up at him, her face burning from the blow. Before she could react he was upon her, tearing at her dress and groping roughly at her body.

"Winston! For God's sake! You really are a drunk mess!"

"My sake," he muttered, trying to get her dress up.

She mustered some strength and shoved him over onto his side while she scrambled to her feet, holding the tattered top of her dress together. "This isn't over, Winston. You are behaving like a drunken boor. You are going to ruin everything we've accomplished here. Get hold of yourself." She marched off down the beach, leaving the sand and taking the walk alongside the pool court.

"Bitch," Winston spat, clawing at the sand for a grip. He called a few weak insults after her and then failing to clear his liquored brain, raised himself to his knees. "I'll get hold of you and then-" The thud was a sickening sound and Winston only let out a small cry as the side of his head caved in and he dropped face first into the sand.