FB - Spain, Madrid - Villa de la Reina Hotel (Summer 1995)

[Hollywood Heidi]

Villa de la Reina Hotel

Located in Madrid, Spain and taking place in the summer of 1995.

[Kristi Lynne]

Today was gonna be the day
But they'll never throw it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you're not to do
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now

There was a whirl of hotel room walls flashing by her eyes, and then she had crashed onto the soft surface of the bed with its garishly-printed comforter. With a groan, she turned over and looked up at the ceiling. “Why is the room spinning?” She struggled to sit up, studying her surroundings carefully. “And why is it not my room?”

There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how
Because maybe
You're gonna’ be the one that saves me

“Because…” Nick answered slowly and patiently from the doorway, the music from downstairs disappearing behind the wood, “You’re in my room.” He closed the door and proceeded to a sidetable, dropping a few ice cubes into a glass.

“Oh, Nick…” Gwen smiled coyly, getting to her feet and awkwardly throwing her arms around his neck. “If you wanted to get me up to your room, darling, all you had to do was ask.”

He ducked out of her embrace. “If there were anywhere else I could have dropped you off safely, I would have done,” he said, heading for the bathroom and holding the glass underneath the tap as he turned on the water. “I thought you’d probably prefer this to the back alley behind the bar.”

“You have me there,” she agreed. Then she walked up behind him, snaking her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “But then you can have me anywhere,” she purred in his ear.

“Gwen,” he huffed, side-stepping away from her. “I’ve spent half my day on a plane, the other half being ignored and insulted. Don’t think I won’t throw you in a cold shower just to sober you up.”

“And now you’re trying to get me in the shower? You do move very fast, Mr. Marbury.”

“Not as fast as you, it would seem,” he stated coldly.

The contempt on his face and in his voice went a long way toward sobering her up. So she folded her arms and backed off, leaning against the bathroom doorway. He continued to fill the glass with water, looking up just long enough to catch a glimpse of the hurt look on her face.

“Havers, what am I going to do with you?” he wondered aloud, his tone measurably softer.

“If history’s any indication, nothing at all,” she shot back defiantly.

He fixed her with a glare and tried to shove the glass into her hand. “Drink this,” he ordered.

“Psh, I already had a drink,” she informed him, waving the glass away.

“You already had lots of drinks. But this is what you need right now.”

“Just because you’re a doctor, or soon-to-be doctor—“

“Yes, I am a soon-to-be doctor who’s trying to save you from dehydration and a splitting headache in the morning. Now shut your trap and drink it.”

Her determination had never lasted long under that stern, disapproving look of his. After a very brief pout of protest, she accepted the glass and started to drink it slowly. He sighed wearily, undoing the top few buttons on his shirt and sitting down on the bed.

“So…you wanna’ tell me what we’re doing here?” he inquired.

“I’m drinking water in a strange hotel room with you,” she replied.

“Don’t be a smartass, Gwen. You know what I mean.”

“Well, I was having a perfectly good time…”

“I could see that.”

“…Until you decided to swan in and play the hero…”

“Swan in? I didn’t swan in.”

“…Riding to my rescue again…”

“I’ve got better things to do than rescue you.”

“You’re always doing it though, aren’t you?” she observed. “Because you think you know what’s best for me.”

“In this particular case, yes I do.”

“Well, I beg to differ.”

“Differ all you want. But the fact is that you’re making a truly massive mistake.”

“Am I? That’s your opinion?”

“My opinion, and that of every other person who hasn’t had half a dozen sangrias.”

“You are so arrogant,” she hissed, pushing herself away from the doorframe to pace the room. “I know exactly what this is about. You don’t trust me to make my own decisions.”

“Not if they’re as insanely wrong as this one, no. Gwen, take a deep breath, take a step back, and seriously consider what you’re doing.”

She rounded on him, stumbling a bit because of the too-swift movement, and narrowed her eyes. “Did my father send you?”

“What? No. I came here by myself. He doesn’t even know,” Nick answered. “And frankly, I’d prefer to keep it that way. If his precious daughter’s intent on marrying some Italian gigolo—“

“Oh. Oh, I get it now. You just can’t bear to see me happy with anyone else, is that it? Well, maybe you should have thought of that before.”

“So this is my fault?” he cried, getting to his feet. “I knocked you back, and now you want to get even. You want to teach me a lesson. How foolish I was to have rejected you.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Nick. It’s not always about you. Sometimes it’s about me and what I want. And I want Cesare.”

“You want to defy your parents. That’s all this is. So go dye your hair, get a piercing or a tattoo. But don’t run off with him.”

“Yeah, well, I love him, he loves me. You can choose to be happy for me or not.”

“And I choose ‘or not.’ I’m not gonna’ be happy because it’s not gonna’ happen,” he declared.

“I beg your pardon?” she gasped.

“You’re not marrying him.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Like I care what you think,” she protested and went for the door.

“Apparently you do,” he said, rushing in front of her and slamming the door closed when she tried to open it. “Or you wouldn’t have left me that cryptic message. You wouldn’t have asked me to come here. And I certainly wouldn’t have agreed to get on a plane all the way down here if I didn’t care a little bit about your well-being. Now will you at least hear me out?”

She tore her eyes away from his and reluctantly removed her hand from the doorknob. She had left him that message, hoping he’d come, but she didn’t have to admit it. At least not right away.

After she had more or less moved away from the door, he began, “Cesare, the Vicomte that you seem so besotted with, is only after your money.”

She looked back up at him with wide eyes. “That’s ridiculous. He’s rich.”

“He made a series of bad investments over the past few years. His company’s racked up a huge debt, and his properties in Zurich and Singapore are in foreclosure. He wants the trust fund.”

“I don’t have a trust fund.”

“He thinks you do. I’m guessing your mother played a part in that.”

“How…how did you find out about this?”

“I have friends at Lloyd’s of London. They did some digging.”

“Some digging? You investigated my fiancé?”

“One of my best friends falls in love, gets engaged and runs away to Spain with some guy I’ve never met? Forgive me for being a bit suspicious.”

She stepped away, still wavering a bit from the alcohol and now the shock on top of it. “You’re absolutely sure?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

“It was just about the money?”

“It seems that way. I’m so sorry, Gweny.”

She walked out onto the balcony, breathing in slowly. Back in England, it was past her bedtime. But here, the party was just getting started. The plaza pulsated with locals and tourists, moving from one café to another, their laughter rising up to the window through the heavy summer air.

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and hesitantly approached her. “Look, I didn’t tell you all this to break your heart,” he assured her.

“You’ve gotten quite good at it, though. Must be all those years of practice,” she remarked, giving him a weak smile. She shook her head and cursed her naivete. “It was all a lie, and I fell for it. How could I have been so stupid? He’s probably not even a Vicomte…”

“You’re not stupid. A charming man told you some things you wanted to hear, and you believed him. Wasn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.”

“That’s life, kid.”

She stifled a laugh, choosing to go with that instead of the tears that were welling up. “Welcome to Spain, by the way.”

“Yeah, it’s a lovely city. I shall definitely choose Madrid for my next rescue mission,” he grinned.

“It is a beautiful city,” she mused, gazing down onto the plaza. “I wish you were seeing it under better circumstances. Y’know, maybe you should just go,” she suggested. “I’ll be fine; I don’t need a babysitter, and Sharon will be missing you.”

“I can’t go,” he replied, sighing heavily.

“Why not?”

“Well, two reasons. One, this is my room; I paid for it so I’m not leaving. And two, I’m not with Sharon anymore.”

Her brow knitted in confusion, which shifted into concern. “Oh, Nick, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You used to call her ‘Duckface’.”

“Did not.”

“Did so.”

She shrugged. “Okay, maybe I did behind her back. But still, have to keep up appearances.”

He moved to stand beside her on the balcony, leaning on the railing. “Ah, I see. Well, you can stay here tonight if you like. I’ll…sleep on the couch or something.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I plan to send you a bill for the airfare and half the hotel,” he remarked. Then he tilted his head and considered her. “You wouldn’t have actually gone through with the wedding, would you?”

“I probably would have chickened out before the vows,” she confessed.

“So it’s back to Plan B, then?”

“Ah, Plan B,” she exhaled, holding the cool glass of water up to her forehead and closing her eyes. “What was Plan B? I forget.”

“Helena said you were thinking about going to university in America.”

“Yes. Yes, I was.”

“Any particular reason?”

“No. Just you.”

“Sorry?”

“Well, I figured if I put an ocean between us, I can finally go about getting over you,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Gwen, I don’t—“

“I know you don’t. And considering the night I’ve had, maybe you can spare me the laundry list of reasons why you don’t. I’ve heard them all before.”

“But you do understand that we’re friends—“

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she groaned, walking quickly back into the room. “If you’re going to give me that ‘we’re just friends’ speech one more time, I’m going to bed.” She placed the glass back on the sidetable, collapsed onto the mattress again and began kicking off her shoes.

“Oi, that’s my bed,” Nick observed.

“I thought we’d already established you were sleeping on the couch.”

“It was an option, if you had decided that you wanted to stay here—“

“Which I did, and after a bit of hemming and hawing, you would have been a gentleman and offered me the bed, so let’s skip all that.”

He paused to think about it. “Well, I can’t really argue with the logic of your statement.”

“Of course not,” she replied, lying down and smushing the pillow up under her head. “I’m terribly logical. It’s just one of the reasons you love me.”

“I may love you, but you make it very difficult to like you sometimes,” he stated. He walked over and sat down on the unoccupied side of the bed. One of the other difficulties was to get a word in edgewise with her, so he might as well take advantage of this silent moment while he had it.

“Gwen, I know that you have feelings for me,” he began. “And I sincerely regret that I can’t return them. Maybe life would be easier for both of us if I could, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve to have someone’s full love and commitment, and nothing less. Someone who appreciates your compassion and your humor. And your rather extravagant attempts at rebellion. I never once wanted to hurt you. And I do promise you that I will always be there. You’ve been a part of my life ever since you fell from that tree. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. That’s a better deal than most people get these days, isn’t it?” he observed.

She was still being unusually quiet. “Gwen?” he asked, leaning forward. “Gwen, are you asleep?” Her closed eyes and continued silence, as her chest gently rose and fell with her breathing, told him that she was indeed asleep.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered. He pulled the rest of the sheets up over her and turned out the light. Snatching up the room key, he then headed downstairs to the hotel bar.