Martin was sitting with his nose in his laptop as usual. It didn’t matter what he was doing at any given time—working, on a call, or watching a movie—he always kept his laptop close by. It was his best friend and an integral part of who the man was. I hated it with a passion, but it had always been like that, so I really had no right to change it. Even though I had appeared in his life more than a year ago only owing to that little device, it would be hypocrisy if I suddenly wanted it out of his life.
I remember it had been February, and I hadn’t been in a relationship with anyone for more than six months. I was growing bored, or maybe lonely, so I decided to set up a profile on a dating site. It turned out to be fun, not to mention that it ended up boosting my already high self-esteem. During one of those sleepless nights, browsing through hundreds of men, I finally stumbled on Martin. He was looking for a loyal woman to fill his world all at once. Anyway, we clicked and thus a petite girl tamed the tattooed monster. Our relationship wasn’t your run-of-the-mill affair. We were both the strong, dominant types and were prone to explosive outbursts. We were also both intelligent and had significant knowledge of our respective professions. It pulled us both to each other, intriguing and impressing us. The only thing our relationship was lacking was the animal magnetism, the unbridled attraction and passion that had simply never been there. As Martin had once said, he’d already had his share of fucking. I, on the other hand, was a volcano of sexual energy threatening to explode at any time. I had to search for release by masturbating on a daily basis. But still, I felt good at Martin’s side. Safe and calm. It was more important than sex. Or at least that’s what I thought.
“I’m ready, honey. I just have to zip up my travel bag, which is not going to be easy, and we can go.”
With a laugh, Martin pushed himself up, stuffed the laptop into its bag, and headed toward my luggage.
“I think I’ll manage, baby doll,” he said, squeezing my gigantic suitcase. “It’s the same thing all over again, eh? Excess baggage, thirty pairs of shoes and half the closet flying with us while you’re not going to wear more than, like, ten percent of all that.”
I frowned and crossed my arms.
“At least I’ll have choices!” I retorted, putting on my sunglasses.
I always felt apprehensive and anxious in airports, afraid even. I had claustrophobia and hated flying. Besides, I had inherited my mother’s pessimism. It was always doom and gloom for me, so I tended to overthink things that at least theoretically might end up in some kind of trauma. So a flying can with a pair of engines strapped to the sides wasn’t something I’d likely trust without a shadow of a doubt.
We were traveling with Martin’s friends, who were already waiting for us in the brightly lit departures hall. Karolina and Michał had been together for years and had chosen our destination. They were thinking of getting married, but at least for now, thinking about it was enough. He was your typical womanizer. With short blond hair, a deep tan, and blue eyes he was also pretty good-looking. All he was ever interested in was boobs, though. He didn’t even try denying that. She, on the other hand, was a tall, long-legged blonde with a delicate, girlish face. Nothing special at first glance, but when you came to know her, she became remarkably interesting. Karolina all but ignored Michał’s bothersome inclinations. I wasn’t sure how she managed it. With my possessiveness, I wouldn’t be able to stay with a man whose head turned every time he glimpsed another woman. I swallowed two antianxiety pills to be sure I wouldn’t have a full-blown panic attack on the plane.
We were supposed to have a stopover in Rome. An hour’s break and then another hour flying straight to Sicily. Last time I had been to Italy I was sixteen, and since then I didn’t have a high opinion of Italians. They were noisy, intrusive, and didn’t know a word of English. And English was like a native tongue to me. After all those years spent in various hotels, there were times I even thought in English.
When we finally landed in Catania, the sun was already setting. The guy at the car rental office took his bloody time handling customers. We got stuck in the queue for an hour. Martin was hungry and edgy, and his foul mood was rubbing off on me, so I decided to take a look around the place. There wasn’t much to see, truth be told. I exited the air-conditioned building and felt the overwhelming heat. In the distance, I saw the smoking summit of Mount Etna. It was a bit disturbing, really, though I had known the volcano was still active. Walking with my head in the clouds, I didn’t notice the end of the pavement, and before I gathered my wits, an enormous Italian popped out of nowhere and I nearly walked into him. I stopped, dumbfounded, a couple of inches from the man’s back, but he didn’t even flinch, failing to notice I nearly slammed into him. A group of men wearing dark suits were walking out of the airport terminal. The man in front of me looked like he was escorting them. I didn’t wait for them to pass, instead turning on my heel and walking back to the car rental office, praying for the car finally to be ready. When I was close, three black SUVs drove by. The middle one seemed to slow down a bit for an instant, but I couldn’t see anything inside through the darkened windows.
“Laura!” I heard Martin call out, the keys to our car clasped in his hand. “Where the hell are you going? We’re off!”
* * *
Hilton Giardini Naxos welcomed us with an enormous vase in the shape of a head, holding a bundle of tall white and pink lilies. The scent of the flowers filled the impressive entrance hall decorated with golden motifs.
“Real ritzy, darling,” I said, turning to Martin with a smile. “A bit Louis XVI. I wonder if there’s a bathtub with lion paws upstairs.”
Everyone burst out laughing. We all had all been thinking the same thing, it seemed. The hotel wasn’t as luxurious as a Hilton should have been. There were a lot of shortcomings I could discern with my professional eye.
“The only things that matter are a good bed, a freezer filled with vodka, and some sunny weather,” Michał said. “I don’t care about anything else.”
“Right, well, I forgot this is going to be just another trip of binge drinking. Now I feel bad for not being an alcoholic like the rest of you,” I replied with a grimace of mock irritation. “I’m hungry. I had my last meal back in Warsaw. Can we get a move on and eat out today? I can already taste that pizza and wine…”
“Spoken like the absolutely-not-alcoholic afficionado of large quantities of wine and champagne,” Martin said with a smirk, wrapping his great arm around my shoulders.
All similarly hungry, we unpacked our things quickly, and after fifteen minutes met in the corridor between our rooms.
With what little time I had, unfortunately I didn’t have the opportunity to adequately prepare myself for going out, but on my way to the room earlier I’d been mentally combing through the contents of my baggage. I wanted something that would end up the least crumpled after the long trip. Finally, I’d picked a long black dress with a metal cross on the back, a pair of black flip-flops, a black leather fringe bag, a gold watch, and large round earrings. I’d hastily applied some eyeliner and mascara, touching up my earlier work, which was already fading after the flight, and then powdered my face lightly. I’d grabbed a tube of golden-speckled lip gloss and drew a line along my lips without looking in the mirror.