“Did you see my former friend Francesca?” Gina asked them, propping her hands on her hips. “Oh, yes, I see by the look on the men’s faces you did. She said she’s moving out for good, right now, didn’t want any of her things. I can sell some, but that means more money for rent every month from the rest of us, and none of us can afford it.”
“She’s not a student, then, is she?” Claire asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice. Why did she always feel she was conducting a forensic psychology interview on this woman for some sort of crime? She hated not being able to trust the person who probably held their safety in her hands.
“Well—she started out that way,” Gina admitted with a shrug. “Before she met her so-called special friend at a paladore—a private restaurant—where she was working at night. Now she good as spitting on her former friends. Truth is, she what is called a jinetera. You see them up where the foreigners go, even on the streets. She did not start out that way, but took her chance.”
Heck said, “But jinetera means a female jockey. She rides horses? That woman?”
Gina frowned and shook her head. “Called that because the foreign men with money—well, you see, she ride them, in more ways than one.”
“A prostitute?” Heck demanded.
“Yes, but not like—not like a whore. Jineteras, they choose real careful, stick with only one man. It’s different here, Berto,” Gina insisted, her voice rising too. “She stay faithful, he buy her nice presents, visit her family. If he’s a rich foreigner, he might take her to his country, like Francesca says she going. That’s why she doesn’t want her stuff. I know one got married.”
Heck swore under his breath and grabbed her arm to spin her slightly toward him. “You never did that, did you? You said you want to go with me. I’m not rich. You don’t think that—”
“Caramba!” she spit out, breaking his hold on her. “You think that, you never speak to me again. I want to be a doctor, help people, trying to help you, all of you. I do not trade myself for anything, even going with you out of here, so—”
Breaking into a sob, she rushed inside with Heck right behind her.
“Oh, great. Just great,” Jace muttered. “This whole gamble could be screwed up by a woman, but it wouldn’t be the first time.” He gave Claire a pointed look.
“I suppose,” Claire put in with a sharp voice, “you never realized that Eve only ate the apple and listened to the serpent in the garden because Adam was too busy somewhere else.”
“Meaning I was gone for my pilot career a lot? You were the one keeping secrets about your narcolepsy.”
“If you had paid more attention, then—”
“Stop it,” Nick demanded. “Both of you, stop it. If we don’t get our act together, you’ll have plenty of time to be mad at each other and me while we rot in a Cuban prison. Now let’s get inside and calm things down. We need to get to the Hotel Nacional in Old Havana, and I need to get on what we can pray is a secure internet connection. We’re all strung out, including Lexi, so let’s shape up here.”
“Yes,” Claire said. “Sorry I came with baggage, Nick,” she said with a glare at Jace. “Speaking of which, let’s get up there and practice pretending those small, scuffed-up suitcases are full of clothes for a lovely Havana vacation.”
“Right,” Jace said. “Honest, I was trained better than losing it under pressure in the service and in the pilot’s seat. I—we—just snapped.”
“Then let’s go in,” Nick said. “Onward and upward—or else.”
Jace thought the main building of the International Airport nine miles south of Havana looked like a winged bird of prey waiting to take flight. He wished they could take flight themselves, that he could be at the controls to get them out of here. Despite the fact their plane crash had not been his fault, he had been in the pilot’s seat. Guilt sat heavy on his heart while he and Heck went inside to check the arrival boards in case they were asked about their flight times at the hotel. As he watched planes take off and land, he yearned for the bustle of an airport. Trouble was, he yearned for Claire too when she wasn’t his anymore.
For a while, he’d convinced himself that he’d moved on. Moved on in his career, moved on to Singapore, where he’d spent some downtime at the other end of his Pacific flights. Seeing that knockout woman back at Gina’s student housing had reminded him of the brief affair he’d had there—and made him feel guilty all over again.
But now, being with Claire, seeing her with Nick but wanting to protect her—to have her again—really hit him hard. He had to keep his head in all this, help to get them the hell out of here, but he kept thinking about him and Claire, how fast they’d fallen for each other, how intense it had been, how—
“Okay, everybody, listen up.” Nick’s voice sliced through his agonizing when they rejoined everyone outside the airport between taxi rides. “Remember, we’re Americans, but we’ve flown in from Toronto, Canada. I have our passports if we need them. We’ll have to hire two taxis again, but we’ll be sure the drivers know to keep us together. Hotel Nacional, here we come, and, hopefully, not for a long stay. Meggie, Gina says they have a big swimming pool there.”
“That’s right,” Gina put in, evidently wanting to boost Lexi’s pouty attitude. “And lots of nice music right there at the pool too. Guitars, bongo drums, maracas—a happy salsa beat.”
“Lily likes songs with bad words,” Lexi insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.
Claire said, “Gina doesn’t need to hear about Lily, so can you just keep her a secret?”
“Well, she’s going swimming with us!” Lexi said so vehemently that even passing strangers looked at her. Jace saw Nick bite his lip, but what did he know about handling Lexi? Claire looked like she was going to cry, but she was a psychologist, so she’d better figure this out with her—their—kid. If it was up to him, he’d just tell Lexi enough of that nonsense right now or else. But around here in what might as well be a galaxy far away, what did “or else” mean?
* * *
“What a place!” Bronco said, looking up at the massive hotel when he’d seldom said much since their plane crash. Nick had seen that Nita kind of herded the big guy around, explaining things to him when she could, translating quietly now and then. He only hoped Bronco’s protective instincts were on alert since he was obviously overwhelmed by culture shock. Well, weren’t they all? Nick was really worried about Lexi, but he had to take care of business first.
The Hotel Nacional, they learned at the desk when Nick checked them in using their new passports, had nearly five hundred rooms. Gina had told them it used to be “the place” for Americans before the revolution, but it was now also a major foreign business center in Havana. That not only comforted Nick, since he wanted to get online fast, but it scared him. Who knew if Clayton Ames or his lackeys might be here on business and spot them?
Gina had also told them that the hotel had once become a ghost town, but had been rebuilt in the 1990s with billions of dollars of foreign money. No wonder the cost of a top-floor suite had been outrageous, but they needed room for the seven of them. Gina wasn’t staying but would be back for dinner tonight, and Heck looked forlorn already. Bronco, Jace and Heck would sleep in the living area; Nita and Lexi in one bedroom; and Claire and Nick in the other. But again, Nick thought, please, Lord, don’t let us be here long before we get out of here somehow.
Claire had taken Lexi off to their bedroom to talk to her, so he left Jace guarding them and went downstairs to the lobby with Bronco, alias Cody Carson. They walked toward the bank of laptops guests could pay to use. Ten dollars an