First Turn

wake up….wake up….let it come…rushing slowly…

Coffee…a latte grande…that’s what she wanted…
It was warm, full daylight, hot and golden, but she was in a space, a place, shaded by a double colonnade of arches rising far above her. Her head spinning, Corinne staggered, clutched her hands together behind her, stared out at the long and heaving blue hide of the ocean. The ocean? A wave hit, spray filling the air, the scent of salt cut with heavy tropical perfume, huge banks of red flowers…oleander…bougainvillea…walk out into the silk stream…
“I thought you said you were going to be here at nine….you’re late.” I’m dreaming, she thought. Or I’m so drunk I’m hallucinating. She tried to focus on something, anything. The man who had spoken was standing there, watching her. Tall, thick black hair, steel blue eyes. Late?
Had she blacked out? The club…when had she left the club? She didn’t even recall going home, or driving here, wherever here was. But she had to say something, even if it was nothing more than a lucid dream. She'd never had a dream this realistic though...another breaker hit the beach behind her, she could feel the spray against her skin, bare arms and back, birds calling to one another way up in those rafters...and who was this man who thought he knew her?

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “Did we have an appointment?”

He approached her, one long stride after another, four steps, three. Two. One.
“What are you talking about? You set it up.” Behind him, in that tropical hothouse, another incredible man casually strolled past, golden, leonine. Palm fronds reaching, stretching delicate green fingers through iron grillwork. Now this could not be real.
Sardonic, black velvet voice. Frantic, Corinne struggled to remember, remember anything. Nothing but the delirium and the dancing and then here she was. Just in case it wasn’t a dream…but even the dress…she didn’t even own a dress like this.
So completely off balance she could hardly stay on her feet, Corinne responded with the first thing she could come up with. If she could put him off until she could understand what was happening…“I…I just wondered what you thought…about the appointment…”
He studied her curiously. “Not much. Figured you’d explain when you got here.”

She took a few steps away from the brink, walking into the room, if it was a room. If it was real…a couple at a table in swimsuits…more beautiful people…they weren’t paying any attention to her, but then dream people didn’t. Did they?

Taking a wild guess, just in case this was real, somehow, perhaps it had something to do with work, she posed, “Maybe it was the email I got, the letter …”
Although, looking at him, it was almost impossible to believe, no…it was definitely impossible to believe that this man had written her asking for romantic advice.


A woman walked under the arches, deliberately brushing up against him, moving so close she literally put one bare foot on top of his shoe.

“Hi Gabe,” she purred, then continued on her way. “Hey there Sofie,” he responded, deep quiet voice, loaded with innuendo, amusement. Well, at least she had a name now, although she was even more positive she’d never met him.

Still smiling, he focused his attention back at her. “All right, what about the letter?”
How long could she draw this out? “Umm…what did you think about what I already told you?”
“It’s not the kind of letter you normally get, but I don’t think it was referring to me. Did you bring a copy with you? I can take another look at it. You know I’ll do what I can.”
And she abruptly realized she didn’t even have her purse. Much less a copy of any phantom letter.
“I need some coffee…I think that’s what I need…”

Humiliated, Corinne asked him quietly, “Can I borrow…I don’t seem to have my purse with me…”
Gabe smiled. “Sure. Get whatever you want. Don’t worry about it. They know me here…but Cori…your credit’s as good as mine, not sure what’s going on with you… I’m going to get in a couple of laps in the pool then I’ll be right with you.”

Dazed, Corinne followed him, walking under a canopy of sheer green silk panels into a long gallery. Emerald pool. More palms and the perfume of a thousand exotic flowers drifted through heated air. Now, if this place was real, she would have seen some kind of review…she'd never read anything about it, anything, not one word anywhere...
Three people sitting at a table…the leonine man who had passed behind Gabe, the sultry woman, and yet another guy from some fantasy photoshoot….
A man seated at another table glared at her, the wind from the ocean blowing strands of his red hair across his face. Hard, challenging eyes. Corinne stepped around him carefully…she had enough vicarious experience through her column to recognize what was going on with the woman he was with. She didn’t know him; she didn’t know her; she didn’t know any of these people.
She started toward the coffee bar, taking a guilty look down at the pool where Gabe had stripped down, then dove into the clear water. Long, clean knife edged dive. God…just some coffee…
“A latte, Gabe said I could put it on his account – “ Corinne began, then stopped. Stunned.
The bartender from the club, the same man, smiling at her, same moon colored eyes.

Morpheus. It wasn’t possible. “I think I can do better than that….”

“No! I need to think! I need to think about the letter….”

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tagging...Emily...