Grand Cove

"Ah, Melody," Pete Garcia said as he ushered her into the restaurant, which was on the bayside of the hotel. Large glass windows offered a view of Grand Cove Bay. "Always good to see you." Pete was a hands on hotelier who made it a point to be around to greet the luncheon and dinner crowds. He knew all of the regulars by their first names and what they liked to drink.

"Hi, Pete," she said and pecked him on the cheek. "How's business? Lots of tourists?"

"We're gonna get there," Pete said and signaled to a waitperson who escorted Melody to a corner booth, where three Best Friends were already waiting. In no time at all another waitperson arrived with a glass of chardonnay.

"So, how's it going guys?" Melody asked as she took a sip of her wine. "Met any interesting tourists?"

Best Friend No. 1 rolled her eyes. "I see you've received your brochure."

"Yeah," Melody said. "Kind of corny but something to think about."

"So's how's Chip?" No. 2 asked.

Melody took a big sip from her wine glass, swallowed and rubbed the glass against her bottom lip. "Micro and soft," she laughed.

"You're a mess," No. 3 said. They liked to talk with Melody because she had no inhibitions when discussing her sex life or anyone else's she knew about.

"He's a good guy," Melody said. "But he's more into computers than into me. I'm serious. I sometimes think I intimidate him, maybe turn him off by being too aggressive. But goddamn, I didn't get married to wake up to an empty pillow."

She paused for a moment. "Maybe he's getting it somewhere else."

"You're a mess," No. 3 said again, wishing she could be so open.

A waitperson arrived with four Sons Salads, the luncheon specialty the hotel offered for those who liked to sip wine and pick at fresh veggie salads with crab meat. He also brought four more glasses of Chardonnay.

As they picked at their salads Melody scanned the place. The usual luncheon crowd was arriving and a few people were sitting at the bar, which was shaped in a vee with seating on both sides. The apex touched the glass windows that overlooked the bay. With such slanted seating everyone at the bar had a grand view of the water and the sky. Pete Garcia believed the view itself justified the hefty prices he charged. It was a nice place to sit and have a few.

Melody continued to scan the room. Her eyes fell on a man sitting at the bar on a stool at the end of outer slant. He appeared to be eyeing their booth. He was big and muscular and wore a tee-shirt that outlined his chest and abs. She saw him motion to the bartender.

Shortly a waitperson arrived at their table with four more glasses of wine. "Compliments of the gentleman at the bar," the waitperson said as he placed the drinks around the booth.

Melody finished off her remaining glass and began on the one sent by the stranger at the bar. She was feeling a little light headed from the lack of food - save the picking at the salad - and generous consumptions of white wine.

She leaned over to her Best Friends and asked, "Do you think he's a Tourist?"

"Could well be," No. 1 said. "Haven't seen him around. And he is a hunk. Why don't you find out."

Melody swilled down the rest of her drink. She signaled to a waitperson. "Get me another and send it to the bar and get him whatever he's drinking." She nodded toward the stranger.

Melody walked a little unevenly toward the stranger at the bar and sat herself beside him. "Thanks for the drink," she said. "I'm Melody. Are you a Tourist?"

"Yes," the man said as the bartender sat down another glass of wine for Melody and a double scotch and bay water for the man. "I like your little town here," he said. "Who came up with the idea of bay water and scotch?"

Melody rubbed her wine glass against her bottom lip. "Think it was something our mayor - Mayor Roger Goodenough - started, or at least made popular. Other places picked up on the idea. The Sons here serves it regularly."

Melody took a big swig from her wine glass. "We're little but we're gonna grow. That's the word. Where you from? We're interested in Tourists, you know. At least that's our party line."

"I must say you're a well informed about Grand Cove," the stranger said. "I'm just down from Houston for a little deep sea fishing," the man said. " Going out tomorrow and take a boat out into the Gulf and see what I can catch."

He paused for a moment and took another sip of his drink. "And believe me, I've caught a lot of things."

Recalling the Tourist Brochure, Melody asked, "Is there anything I can do to help? We want you to feel right at home. Part of our job is to spread goodwill."

The stranger smiled and let his knee brush her's. He took a sip from his drink and turned to face her. "Melody," he said. "Such a pretty name. Can I be open with you?"

"Yes," Melody said, feeling a surge of the god of sex permeate her body. She shuddered. "You can be open and so will I."

"I'm not much on words, but I'd sure wish you'd show me the bayfront." he said. "I've staying here at the hotel."

"Sit still for a minute," she said and walked back to the booth where her Best Friends were watching with bemusement and envy. "I'll be right back," she told them. "I'm gonna show this Tourist guy the bayfront."

"We'll be here," No. 3 said. "We'll wait for a report. You really are a mess."

******

In about an hour Melody returned to the booth, her face still slightly flushed but with a smile. Her hair appeared to be wet, perhaps from a shower.

"So did he like the bayfront?" No.3 asked. She was tipsy by now.

"He said he loved it," Melody said. "He loved the way we Grand Covians spread goodwill."

"You're a mess," No. 3 said again. "I hope you used a rubber."