Vanessa could not believe her luck. Or rather, her lack of it. She had just barely left the airport, rented a car, and was over a hundred miles away from Mexico City when her rental car blew up.
"No, no, no!" Vanessa pleaded with the vehicle, as she heard a second loud bang and smoke began pouring out of the engine. "Damn it, not now!" She was only an hour away from her business meeting with the corporate bigwigs of El Dorado Financing Group, and now she would be stranded. On top of that, her cell phone battery was dead.
She had never had car trouble in her life. Leave it to the weekend of her big deal for this to happen. Vanessa had been Assistant Vice President of Hancock & Jones Mutual for four years now, and since Vice President Carl Langley was set to retire next year, she was certain she was in the running. And since Hancock & Jones had decided to go global, Vanessa knew that being sent to Mexico City to talk with the El Dorado people was her big chance to prove that she was right for the job.
But she wouldn't prove that by getting herself lost in the middle of a country road in Mexico. By sheer will, Vanessa perpetuated the rolling car forward, over a slight hill, then downward. To her great relief, she saw a small gas station in the distance, off to the right.
"Come on, you piece of crap," she growled, pounding her foot against the gas pedal as the vehicle began to sputter and die. It rolled slowly, inch by painful inch, until it stopped about thirty feet away from the station. Vanessa took the key out of the ignition and sighed, leaning her head back against the sticky leather seat. It was too hot in this godforsaken country. At least one hundred degrees in the car, with the windows down. Vanessa silk blue suit was moist with sweat, and she was certain she was staining the armpits. She had rented the car without air conditioning, hoping to save some money. So much it had done for her.
Finally Vanessa got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She cursed as she tripped on the dirt road in her high heels, and she kicked the shoes off. Carrying the shoes in one hand and her purse in the other, she walked along the sun scorched road in her bare feet toward the gas station. Already she felt the curls in her strawberry-blond hair wilting, and several strands stuck to her face. Irritated by the obstruction and the heat, she tried to blow the hair off, but it was held fast by the sweat on her forehead and in her eyes.
As Vanessa approached the station, she ignored the stares of several men sitting in lawn chairs in front of the building. Most of them were young, perhaps her age or even younger, but one of the Mexicans was an older man with gray hair and a handlebar mustache, wearing a tattered cowboy hat. Next to him loyally sat a medium-sized dog, also passed its prime, who looked like it had been hit by a car several times. One of its ears was half-missing, and puss seeped out of its large brown eyes. Its tail was gone, and its large tongue was hanging from its mouth as it panted furiously to keep cool from the scorching heat.
Vanessa approached the group, and they did not bother to hide the fact that they were staring. She couldn't blame them, really. She must have looked a fright. Two of the young men were wearing white tank tops with blue jeans, and they both had similar short haircuts and dark goatees. They could have been twins, except that one was a whole head taller than the other, and one was about fifty pounds heavier.
"My car broke down," Vanessa told them, pointing in the direction of her inoperable vehicle. "Is there a phone here that I can use?"
They all just sat there and looked at her with blank faces, and Vanessa cursed under her breath. She knew she should have brushed up on her Spanish before she left New York. "Uh," she started again, "Donde esta . . . el telephone?"
Still she drew no response from them. She dropped her shoes to the ground and ran a hand over her tangled hair, and from the corner of her eye she saw one of the young men elbow his companion, and he spoke to him in soft Spanish. His friend grinned as he replied, and the two of them chuckled. Vanessa found this very rude, and was about to tear them a new one when she felt a tug on her arm. She looked down and saw a small boy, about nine or ten, holding a small yellow box.
"Chiclet?" the boy asked, a wide grin on his face, as he held up the box to her. Vanessa glanced at it, and realized that it was a box of chewing gum. Annoyed, she shook her head.
"No, I don't want any gum. I need a phone. Doesn't anyone around here speak English? Hablo Englais?"
"Guillermo," came a voice from the station building, and the little boy turned his head at the same time as Vanessa. Out of the station walked a tall man in a white cowboy hat, wiping off his hands with a grease covered towel. For a moment, Vanessa was stunned by the sight of him. He appeared to be in his early thirties, his face clean-shaven, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. He gestured to the boy with his head, and spoke a series of brief, commanding words that sent the boy sprinting into the doors of the station.
Vanessa watched as the man came closer, and was surprised by the quick beating of her heart as he drew near. He was incredibly good-looking, and didn't appear to be Mexican for the exception of his dark brown eyes, and long, feminine eyelashes. Not to mention his long black hair, that was cut to chin-length, and curled behind his ears. He had a bit of a tan complexion, but it was hard to tell if it was his heritage or the rays of the sun that toned the golden brown skin.
At last, he stopped a few feet away from her, and Vanessa swallowed the lump in her throat. He looked her over briefly, and Vanessa wondered what he was inspecting her for. At last, he said, "Is there something I can do for you, Senorita?"
For the moment, Vanessa forgot about how gorgeous this guy was, overcome with joy that he spoke English, and very well, with very little hint of an accent. "Yes, thank God! My car broke down, just down the road there, and I need to use a phone."
"The phone is out of order," the handsome man told her. As Vanessa cursed angrily, he glanced down the road where the car was stranded. "What is the problem?"
Vanessa shook her head in frustration. "I don't know, the engine blew up, it's a rental car, and I have to call them to get a new one, and I have a meeting in less than an hour, and I'm not going to make it in time-"
The man held up his hand to silence her, just as one of the young men sitting behind him called out, "Johnny!", followed by a series of words in Spanish too fast for Vanessa to make out. However, she thought she recognized the word gringa, and if she remembered right, they were talking about her, and not in a nice way. Her eyes narrowed in the young man's direction.
The man called Johnny replied to the younger man sharply, then took on a commanding tone as he pointed in the direction of Vanessa's car. The two young men groaned, standing up from their chairs. As they walked passed her, they both gave Vanessa suggestive looks, and were leering at her like hyenas. Vanessa glared back, and took a step in the opposite direction.
"I'll take a look at it," said Johnny, and Vanessa's attention went back to him. "It may take an hour or two."
Vanessa groaned. "That long? Are you sure there's not a phone nearby that I can use?"
Johnny looked up the road thoughtfully. "Maria's hacienda is a few miles east of here. After I look at your car, I can give you a ride up there."
Looking past him, Vanessa glanced in the direction he'd indicated. To the east, the dirt road inclined into a winding hill, and she thought she saw a large house sitting atop the hill. She groaned inwardly, as the realization set in that she was not going to make her meeting today. She would have to reschedule, and that could take weeks, maybe months. Plus, she'd have to get a sooner return flight home. This trip had been for nothing.
"All right," Vanessa agreed finally.
Johnny nodded. "Have a seat. This will take a little time."
A little time was not what Vanessa expected. It took twenty-five minutes for the three men to push the car into the station's garage, and another thirty for Johnny to inspect the engine. Vanessa sat in one of the lawn chairs, her silk jacket airing over the back of the seat, and she was down to her white blouse and knee length skirt. Keeping her legs crossed and her arms across her chest, she tried to tune out the stares and the comments of the two young men, who kept saying things to her as they passed by, then laughing together as they walked off. Thank God the old man was quiet, sitting one chair away from her, staring off into the distance. The dog didn't even come over to say hello, but finally laid down at the old man's boots. Vanessa glanced in his direction from time to time, wondering what he was thinking about, his eyes glued to the horizon.
Vanessa looked down at her wristwatch, just as Johnny came out of the garage and sauntered over to her. His hands were covered in grease, and he had a smudge on his cheek. Vanessa resisted the urge to stand up and wipe it off with her thumb, just for the chance to touch his smooth skin.
"There is nothing I can do," Johnny said. "The car needs a new engine. I don't know why they let you drive out of the rental with this vehicle."
Vanessa scoffed. Figures, she didn't even bother to buy renter's insurance. Well, she could always charge it to the company's account. "Can you get me to a phone?" she asked.
Johnny paused as he took the rag out of his jeans pocket, wiping off his hands and face. Then he put it back in his pocket, and settled his hands on his hips. "My truck is behind the station. Just let me bring it up."
After he drove up in a large, run-down pickup truck, Johnny helped Vanessa get her luggage out of the rental car and put it in the back of the truck. Then he got into the driver's seat, and Vanessa climbed up into the passenger side. Johnny turned the key in the ignition, and the truck roared to life. For a guy who seemed to know a lot about cars, he didn't seem to mind that he needed a new muffler.
The ride was painfully quiet as Johnny drove the truck up the steep hill. Vanessa sat a distance away from him in the cab, leaning against the door. Being in such close quarters with him made her uncomfortable; even at this proximity, her heart was beating like a bongo drum. She finally broke the awkward silence by asking him, "So, are you Mexican?" Such a dumb question, she thought as soon as the words came out, but it was too late now to take them back.
But still, Johnny answered. "My mother was Mexican, and my father was American."
"Really?" Vanessa said, but he didn't seem eager to continue the conversation, so she didn't press him. The rest of the ride was continued silence, as the truck drove up the winding hill, making Vanessa more than a little nervous at the wide turns. Finally, they came to the hacienda. It was very picturesque, the kind of house you would see on a Mexican postcard. There was a garden of exotic flowers out front, and a small ceramic birdbath, where two sparrows wet their feathers, singing jovially.
Vanessa followed Johnny to the front door, where he walked in without knocking. Vanessa paused a moment behind him before entering the hacienda. The front room was made up like a small lobby, with a couple of chairs sitting against the wall, and a desk counter. Behind the counter was a series of shelves, and several keys hanging up on hooks.
A phone sat on the desk, and Vanessa eyed it eagerly. Still, she waited as Johnny stepped further into the room, calling out a woman's name: "Maria!"
Through a door behind the counter walked out a short, stout Mexican woman, perhaps in her sixties, with her graying dark brown hair pulled up in a messy bun. She wore a light yellow summer dress, and she grinned, revealing the wrinkles in her face when she saw the male visitor.
"Johnny!" she exclaimed, walking out from behind the counter to greet him with a big hug. Johnny had to bend down to meet the woman's short stature, and he returned her warm smile with one of his own.
"Como estas?" the woman asked him, after pulling away and meeting him at arm's length.
"Muey bueno," he replied. Then Johnny stepped back from her and gestured towards Vanessa. "Maria, this woman would like to use your telephone."
