Another Kind of Love by Paula Christian Page B

the way across the hotel veranda into the lobby. People were everywhere, making conversation virtually impossible. The crowd was dressed in a variety of styles that went from native Jamaican casualness to cocktail dress. The hotel was a meeting place, a clearing house, a point of origin for most tourists whether they were registered there or not.
    Languages mixed; arms gestured; faces grimaced. The spell of the bullfight was everywhere and coursed through the crowds in waves of animated chatter; bits of predictions, reminiscences, comparisons floated through the air like confetti. Laura’s eyes shone with happy excitement.
    Saundra waved gaily to various friends as she led her little troupe across the sweltering room.
    Ginny walked close to Laura. “Don’t lose me.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Laura said. She took Ginny’s hand and held it tight.
    â€œHere we are.” Saundra offered a bright smile to the bowing manager of the hotel as they entered the dark and even more crowded bar.
    She led them to a booth in the far corner where it appeared the occupants were about to vacate.
    â€œOnly cats and lushes can see in these places,” Saundra laughed, “and I’m both. Sit down quick.”
    â€œAre we going to stay here long?” Laura asked quietly. “I hate to be a tourist, but I would like to browse around the shops before it gets dark.”
    â€œSo would I,” said Ginny, “if—if it’s all right with you, Saundra.”
    Saundra glanced at her; then she smiled, but there was a cold glint in her eyes. “Of course. But it would be a bore for me, dear. Why don’t you and Laura go alone?”
    She watched Saundra pull out a crisp fifty-dollar bill and place it on the table in front of Ginny. “Get the tickets for the fight while you’re in the lobby,” Saundra said. “Whatever’s left you can use for trinkets—but buy the best seats you can get.”
    The way Saundra laid the money on the table instead of handing it to Ginny struck Laura as a subtle insult to both of them. But as Ginny mechanically picked up the bill, folded it neatly, and placed it in her purse, Laura told herself that she was being absurd, reading meanings into anything.
    Then some of Saundra’s friends appeared.
    They ordered a round of margaritas. And Laura and Ginny decided it was time to see the town. Although Saundra had ostensibly been absorbed in her friends, she noted the girls’ departure with distinct irritation. She gave an annoyed little cluck as they stood up and then, as if not wanting to show her feelings, said a little too loudly, “Be back by quarter of four, you two.”
    â€œDarling!” An effeminate young man came bounding over to Saundra’s table as they walked away. Laura couldn’t help overhearing him ask Saundra, “Cutting your time?” and Saundra’s reply, which sounded like “Not likely!”
    Once in the lobby, Laura breathed a little more freely. She turned around and looked at Ginny, who stood rigidly next to her. “Relax, Ginny,” Laura said, and realized that she had not let go of Ginny’s hand. “It’s me—not Saundra.”
    Ginny looked up abruptly, pulling her hand away. “What made you say that?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Laura shrugged. “Maybe because I can see a few of your problems . . . in being Saundra’s protégé.”
    â€œNever mind,” Ginny said wearily. “Let’s buy the tickets and get it over with.” At the cigar counter in the hotel lobby an attractive young Mexican girl pulled out a handful of colorful tickets. “Sun or shade?”
    â€œWhich is better?” Laura asked.
    â€œShade. But it is more expensive. We have very few left and only because of a cancellation by a party of six.”
    â€œThree of the best seats,” Laura said.
    â€œTres, primera fila sombra,” the girl