"Who's there?" Kelsey asked as Mayra placed the bottle back on the table in front of her, picked up the shot glass, and threw back the liquor--all while sending a prayer of gratitude heavenward for the job Kelsey had taken last year in Portland.  At the time, Mayra had been heartbroken over the fact that her best friend was moving clear across the country, but tonight it was working in her favor.  Portland was a hell of a lot closer to Hawaii than New York was.  There was only three hours separating them right now instead of six.  A fact which made this phone call even possible.

"JC!" Mayra exclaimed--the name coming out louder than she had expected.  She looked around to apologize but saw she was still alone in the small bar the hotel boasted.  Everyone else is probably out enjoying the local nightlife.  She thought.  Normally she would have been out doing that as well, but tonight she wanted to be alone--to wallow in her misery.

"Are you serious?" Kelsey replied in surprise.  "You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I be kidding about this?" Mayra asked as she poured herself another shot. 

"How do you know he's there?" Kelsey asked.  "Maybe it's just a rumor or something."

"I saw him, Kels!" Mayra replied, groaning in frustration.  "I saw him.  I talked to him."  She downed the other shot she had poured then leaned her forehead against the table and closed her eyes. 

"You talked to him?!" Kelsey gasped.  "What did...what did you say?" She asked.  "What did he say?"

"He said, ‘hi.'" Mayra snorted bitterly as she lifted her head.  She placed her other elbow up on the table--resting her head in her hand as she recounted to Kelsey everything about her earlier encounter with JC.  "Then, as I was leaving, he stopped me and said, ‘it's good to see you.'  What the hell does that mean?" Mayra questioned the level of her voice rising again as she sat back and threw her free arm out to the side in exclamation.

"Does it have to mean something?" Kelsey questioned hesitantly.  Mayra glared though the other girl couldn't see the whithering look Mayra was giving her. 

"He could have just let me go." Mayra reminded the other girl.  "Why did he stop me and tell me it was good to see me? And what the hell are the odds of us both being in Hawaii, at the same hotel, during the same week?!  After all this time, that's got to mean something, right?"  Mayra questioned, wanting Kelsey to validate the fact that fate was obviously up to something.

"Maybe..." Kelsey began then paused.

"What?" Mayra questioned though something told her she wasn't going to like what the other girl said.

"Maybe..." Kelsey began again.  "Maybe this is your chance to close the book?"

Mayra was quiet for a heartbeat then, "I knew it was a stupid idea to call you." She grumbled.  Can I take back that earlier prayer of gratitude?  She questioned, looking up towards the ceiling. 

Kelsey chuckled.  "Listen," she said.  "All I'm saying is-you've been carrying this torch for him, moping around for how long?" She asked rhetorically.  "Maybe this is your chance to close the book so you can finally move on with your life.  There are other fish in the sea, girl."

"But not like him."  Mayra replied, her bottom lip trembling.  "Not like him."  She groaned.  Dropping her arm down on the table she lowered her head, burying her face.  "I was such an idiot." She bemoaned, her voice muffled against the table.

"Yes, you were." Kelsey agreed.

"Hey!" Mayra replied, hurt.  "Thanks a lot, Kels."

"You said it, not me." Kelsey reminded her.

"Yeah, but you agreed with me." Mayra said.  "As my best friend you should know better than to do that."

"Come on." Kelsey replied evenly.  "We both know what happened that night and we both know what an idiot you were.  Remind me again, why it was you couldn't--"

"I was twenty-one, Kelsey!"  Mayra replied, sitting up, only to slouch back against her chair--sliding down until she was practically on the floor.  "I wasn't ready for...for....for that!" She continued.  "With him."

"But now you are?" Kelsey questioned. 

"Yes.  I mean, no!" Mayra corrected herself quickly.  "I mean..." she sighed.  "I don't know." She said, watching as her finger ran in a figure eight pattern over the table top.  "I just...I wasn't prepared to see him today." She finished lamely.  "That's all."

"What happened to all those speeches you've rehearsed over the years?" Kelsey asked.  "All those things you were going to tell him if you ever saw him again?"

Mayra was quiet for a moment, thinking.  The alcohol she'd consumed was starting to give her that fuzzy, tingling feeling all over.  She wanted to finish the bottle of tequila sitting on the table in front of her, but she knew Kelsey had a point.  Why was she sitting down here trying to drown her sorrows when there were things she wanted and needed to say to him?  Mayra sat up and pushed away from the table.  "You're right." She said, nodding her head--feeling a sudden boost of confidence.

"Of course I am." Kelsey replied with a laugh. 

"I'm going to go talk to him." Mayra proclaimed as she stood up. 

"What, now?" Kelsey asked, confused.  "Uh...Mayra, are you sure that's a good idea?  You've been drinking and I don't--"

"There's no time like the present, right?" Mayra asked, cutting Kelsey off as she grabbed the bottle of tequila she had purchased earlier and left the bar.  "I'll call and let you know how it went." She said, flipping her phone closed and cutting off whatever Kelsey was going to say next.  She squared her shoulders as she walked out into the lobby and up to the front desk.  Placing the tequila bottle down on the high counter she greeted the guy who was standing there-his eyes going back and forth between her and the liquor in curiosity.  "Hi." She said, giving him what she hoped was her most charming smile.  "I'm wondering if you can do me a favor." She said, batting her eyelashes at him.  The man--Lewis, his name tag said--remained quiet, waiting for her to continue.  "I'm supposed to be meeting up with a friend of mine but," she laughed, trying to look helpless yet flirtatious at the same time.  "I forgot his room number.  Do you think you can look it up and tell me?" She asked. 

"I'm sorry ma'am." Lewis replied, looking down at the computer screen in front of him as he hit a few keys on the keyboard.  "We don't give out our guest's room numbers without prior consent."

"I won't tell anyone." Mayra assured him.  "It'll just be our little secret." She lowered her voice and placed her finger against her lips.  They went back and forth for a few moments, Mayra's confidence slowly dissipating. 

"I can dial the room and speak to your friend." Lewis finally offered.  "If they give permission then I can tell you which room they are in.  What is your friend's name?"

Mayra sighed as she grabbed the tequila bottle and took a step back from the counter. "Forget it." She said, the reality of the situation crashing down on her.  "This was a stupid idea." She muttered.  What was she thinking?  She was just going to march up to his room and give him a piece of her mind?  What good would that do?  Would it solve anything?  No.  Would it make it so she could go back in time and change what had happened between them?  No. 

"Ma'am?" Lewis asked as she turned.  "Is there a message or anything you want me to pass along to your friend?"

I'm sorry.  Mayra thought.  I was an idiot.  I still love you.  Please give me another chance?

"Forget it." She said again, hanging her head in acceptance as she began walking toward the elevators.  Kelsey was right.  She needed to treat this like the opportunity it was and close the book on her and JC. 

The sooner she accepted that, the sooner she could get back to enjoying this vacation.

~~~~~~~~~

JC watched from across the lobby as Mayra turned from the front desk--a half bottle of tequila dangling from one hand--and began walking dejectedly toward the elevators.  His feet began moving, following after her on their own accord.  He hung back as she reached out, pressing the "up" button.  His eyes ran over her and, as much as he fought it, his body reacted to her perfect curves the way it had from the first time he'd seen her.  He remembered that first night--spotting her from across the club, devising a plan, "bumping" into her, drinking, dancing, that first kiss, and later that night in his hotel room, and the year that had followed.  It had been three years since the last time he had held her, heard her voice, tasted her kiss, but he still remembered.  He remembered her smile, her laugh, the weight of her pressed up against him while they slept...

The elevator arrived with a ding, pulling JC from his thoughts.  He ducked quickly around a corner as Mayra got in--barely making it before she saw him.  His heart was suddenly pounding in his chest as he clenched his hands into fists at his side. 

Snap out of it.  He demanded.  Don't let her get to you.  Don't fall into her trap again.

"Damn it!" He swore, pounding one fist back against the wall he was leaning on.  An elderly couple stopped as they were passing him, giving him a curious look.  "Sorry." He apologized to them from his outburst.  "I..." he hesitated, thinking.  "I just remembered I...I forgot my toothbrush at...at home." He finished lamely-rolling his eyes at himself.  That's the best you can come up with?  He questioned, kicking himself mentally as the couple continued on to the elevators.  No wonder you haven't been able to sell a song the last couple months. He shook his head. 

You're letting her get to you.  A voice in the back of his mind chastised.  He pushed off the wall and began walking toward the bar he'd seen Mayra exit moments before.  Why did she have to be here?  Why, after all this time, did he have to run into her again?  And why did she have to look so incredibly amazing?!  He lamented.  JC let out a heavy sigh as he sunk down onto a chair at the first empty table he came to.  Scrubbing his hands over his face he leaned his elbows on the table then jammed his fingers into his hair.

"Bad day?" A friendly voice to his left asked.

JC looked up, meeting the eyes of the waitress that had suddenly appeared at his side.  "You have no idea." He replied with a roll of his eyes. 

"Anything I can do to help?" She asked, flashing a flirtatious smile.

"Honey..." He mused with a humorless chuckle.  "You don't want to get tangled up with me right now.  I'm a mess."  He confessed.  Have been for a while.  He finished mentally. 

"Cleaning up messes is what I'm good at." She replied, resting a hand on her waist as she cocked a hip out to the side. 

JC shook his head.  "Scotch." He ordered.  She looked at him for a second then nodded.  "On the rocks?" He asked as she began to walk away. 

"Sure thing, hun." She replied then left him alone again with his thoughts.

You're losing your edge, Chasez. He mused as he leaned back in his chair--his hands rubbing over his thighs.  She seemed like a nice enough girl.  He thought, his eyes slid over to the bar for a second.  He watched as the girl gave his order to the bartender, smiling and laughing with the guy.  She seemed willing to offer a good time and a much needed release...but something kept him from accepting the invitation he had seen in the her eyes.

JC leaned forward again-his leg bouncing in agitation as he put one elbow back up on the table and rested his chin in his hand.  His eyes traveled around the small bar.  He spotted a couple tucked away in the booth in the far corner and felt an irrational stab of jealousy at their obvious happiness with each other. 

The waitress suddenly appeared again, placing his glass of scotch on the table.  JC picked it up--disposing of the alcohol in a few quick swallows.  He hissed, feeling the burn down his throat as he placed the glass back on the table with a thud.  The golden liquid he'd just downed awakened his sleeping inner demons.  Few people knew about the struggles he'd had the last couple years--the weaknesses he had battled all thanks to a certain dark haired, brown eyed beauty who was a beguiling mix of Southern charm and Latin heat and passion.  A voice in the back of his head begged for another drink--promising an escape from the thoughts and emotions that had come up and taken him by surprise at seeing Mayra down at the beach this afternoon. 

JC fought against the voice, stubbornly refusing to give in.  He'd wasted enough time nursing his pain and licking his wounds where she was concerned.  Seeing her was his last challenge, he had decided.  If he could get through this week, he would finally be free of the hold she still had on him.

He blew out a breath and placed his hands on the edge of the table.  Pushing his chair back he was about to stand when his eyes spotted a black and white Gucci bag sitting on the chair next to him.  JC looked around, but he and the happy couple in the corner were still the only guests in the bar.  Reaching out he grabbed the bag and stood.  Turning, to take the bag over to the bar for safe keeping until its owner came to retrieve it, he pulled up short at finding himself suddenly face to face with the woman he had just been thinking about. 

"Mayra." He breathed, trying to ignore the way her name felt so familiar and so...right on his tongue.  Her intoxicating scent--that same vanilla perfume she'd worn when they had been together--overwhelmed him.  He swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from hers.  Her eyes still had the power to hold him captive.  Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and he felt the pull of desire in his groin.  Just a few small inches and he could have those lips pressed against his once more...

Fight it.  He demanded, shaking himself mentally and pulling back from her slightly.  Fight it.  Don't let her get to you. 

"What are you doing with my purse?" She asked, a look of accusation in her dark eyes. 

"Oh, uhm," he looked down at the bag in his hand.  "It, uhm...it was...it was on the chair." He stuttered, turning and pointed from where he had picked it up. 

"Give it to me!" She demanded, snatching it from him.  She stood there, glaring at him and all he could do was stare at her in confusion. 

"Sorry." He apologized.  "I...I wasn't going to do anything with it."  He told her.  "I was just going to give it to the bartender for safe keeping." He gestured over his shoulder.  "Look, I know you're...drunk, but--"

"I am not--" She began loudly.  She stopped and lowered her voice.  She pulled her shoulders back and brushed the hair from her face, trying to compose herself.  "I am not drunk." She insisted.  He quirked one brow up in disbelief as he stood there looking at her. 

"Mayra--"

"Don't." She spat, holding a finger up in warning.  "Don't talk to me." She insisted.  "Don't touch my stuff again." She said, pulling her purse up against her chest and turning slightly from him.  "And don't..." she paused.  She looked him up and down-her angry eyes scorching him.  "Just don't talk to me." And with that she turned on her heels and stormed out of the bar, a string of angry sounding Spanish spilling from her mouth.

JC stood rooted in place--unable to speak or do anything for a while-as he watched her disappear out the door and around the corner.  What the hell...

"Whew, boy!" A familiar voice sounded once again.  JC turned to look at the waitress.  "You weren't kidding about being messed up." She teased.  "That girl is a hot mess.  She was in here earlier, nursing a bottle of tequila.  Are..." She drawled.  "Are you two--"

"No." JC said, cutting her off.  "We're not."  He sank down into the chair he had been sitting in a few minutes ago-a heavy sigh escaping his lips.  He put a hand against his chest, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.  It felt like someone had their hand fisted around his heart.

He had a pretty good idea who that person was.

"Scotch." He told the waitress, ordering another drink.  "And this time, make it a double."