MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER SEVENTY EIGHT:

ACAPULCO

Written by Rick Archer 

AUGUST 1980

LIMBO ENTERS A NEW PHASE

I mentioned that the floors had begun to clear in August.  Although the extra space made the dancing more fun, this was not necessarily a good development.  Recalling the painful slow death of Disco last year, was this a sign that interest in Western dancing was starting to fade?  If so, my dance career was in serious trouble.  The intense hostility was the main reason for the decrease.  But that was not the only problem.  The growing sense of boredom also took its toll.  It was fun at first, but now the monotony was getting to people.  Even with all the improvements, Country dancing was still no match for Disco in terms of complexity. 

Lately, however, Bob and I had seen something new: Double Turns.  These Double Turns promised to add the complexity necessary to turn the momentum around.  Only one problem.  For the life of me, I could not figure out how these turns worked.  Nor could Bob.  Our inadequacy was driving us crazy.  Bob promised it was just a matter of time before we figured it out, but I was deeply worried.  Bob had a day job to fall back on.  Not me.  Unless we could find the solution, I feared C&W would be gone by Christmas.

Lately Lance Stevens had become more hostile.  So hostile in fact that I had begun to wonder if I should be looking for a place to move.  I was making enough money at this point to go out on my own, so leaving this hostile environment was on my mind.  On the other hand, if Western fizzled out like I feared it would, I would be stuck with a long-term lease and nothing to teach.  One dumb move and I could say goodbye to my substantial nest egg.  That was a very sobering thought.  Compounding my reluctance, it looked like Class Factory, a historic source of new students, was going out of business.  I decided to stay put and monitor Stevens' mood. 

And then there was Limbo Captivity.  I don't know why I even bother mentioning Limbo anymore.  Limbo was Endless, Limbo was Forever.  The combination of Limbo, Lance Stevens, the Mystery of the Double Turns, the Christmas C&W Deadline and the potential demise of Class Factory left me in a constant state of dread. 

Here in August, I was in my second year of captivity with no end in sight.  If I was on a desert island it would be one thing.  Without a woman nearby, it would have been easier to deal with their absence.  Out of sight, out of mind.  However I was constantly surrounded by pretty girls who smiled invitingly.  Lately it was turning into a form of slow torture.  Due to my nightly trips to the dance clubs, I was going nuts dealing with so much temptation.  My hormones were in overdrive, but I couldn't act because I was still stuck in this goofy relationship with Victoria.  Whenever I visited a club, on any given night I might have anywhere from 10 to 20 ladies drop by to flirt and ask me to dance.  Every trip around the floor with one of these women in arms was a test of my self-discipline.  I had to remind myself to avoid crossing the line.  It was nerve-wracking to say the least. 

So what was stopping me?  Nothing!  Nothing but my conscience, that is. 

Victoria had fallen completely apart back in January.  Frightened and lost, she begged me to stay with her until she could get back on her feet.  The combination of her intense guilt regarding Michael, her fear of being alone, and Michael's decision to go through with the divorce had Victoria scared to death.  If Victoria had demanded that I do this, I would have said no.  However, since Victoria practically begged me to help her, I said okay.  Why?  Because she definitely needed a friend.  Jennifer had just announced her departure from Houston and I was overwhelmed with all these new Western students, so what difference did it make at the time?  Besides, I nursed a secret instinct that God wanted me to do this.  Fine, I will cooperate, but only for a while. 

My mistake was not putting a time limit on my commitment.  To be honest, I thought I was signing up for a month or two of hand-holding.  Wrong.  One month later Victoria entered therapy.  To my dismay, Victoria used her therapist as her excuse to ask me to stick around longer.  She said her therapist Charlotte insisted I stay by her side during this 'extremely frightening time'.  I felt sorry for her, so I said okay.

However, the moment I agreed to continue as her nursemaid, Victoria turned her back.  Considering Victoria was in the middle of an inner journey in addition to divorce proceedings, she barely kept an eye on me during the Spring.  Right now her lawyer and her therapist were her two best friends.  Victoria talked to the lawyer so often I was beginning to wonder.  If Victoria wanted to run off with the lawyer, be my guest.  With the debut of Urban Cowboy around the corner, lately Victoria had shown signs of snapping out of her long slump.  Perfect timing.  I had never wanted my freedom back more than this moment.  If she didn't give my freedom, then I would just take it.

It was all for naught.  Just when I was ready to break it off with Victoria at the six-month mark, I got sick.  To my dismay, that damn toothache put me in the hospital.  As if that was not enough bad luck, Victoria had such a good time pinch-hitting for me, her romantic interest magically came back to life.  To my astonishment, not only did Victoria announce she was ready to resume her role at the dance studio, she was ready to resume our relationship. 

After a big night of dancing in early July, Victoria invited me to come home with her.  Like a fool, I accepted.  After we had sex for the first time since last Christmas, Victoria said she had something important to ask me.  Would I be willing to stick around till the divorce was final sometime early next year?  I was immediately suspicious.  There was a part of me that wondered if this sweetness in the dark was a deliberate attempt to soften me up. 

Nevertheless, I said yes.  Why?  I did so for a very good reason.  When Victoria announced her intention to resume teaching at the studio, she reminded me that half of the studio belonged to her.  Legally speaking, I doubted seriously her claim would stand up in court.  However, as we discussed the issue, I realized Victoria was not asking for money.  She wanted to reaffirm her right to remain at the studio as long as she wished.  To Victoria's relief, I agreed with her, but only in a spiritual sense.  As far as I was concerned, Victoria was 'Mother' of the studio.  For that reason, she had a right to be a part of the studio as long as she wished to stay. 

This is all well and good, but why agree to continue as her boyfriend?  Despite the one-sided nature of our relationship, I had a new reason to stay with Victoria.  Now that Victoria was back in the picture, I wanted sole custody of my dance program.  This was not something I could buy, this was something I needed to earn through good will.  Now that my dance career had been given a second chance thanks to Western dancing, this is what I wished to do for the rest of my life. 

Right now, Victoria and I were getting along just fine.  Her mind was elsewhere and that was fine by me.  However, just one mistake was all it would take to reawaken the Snarling Tiger Woman.  Since I believed my release was just around the corner, I had come too far to screw up my future at this point.  I doubted seriously that Victoria was looking to make a career out of dancing.  If I could be patient, someday the dance studio would be her parting gift to me.  At that time, my period of atonement would be complete.

AUGUST 1980

TAYLOR

So far, Victoria's idea of a renewed relationship had been what's good for her, not me.  First she cleaned house.  She had chased off all my prospects in June.  Then we had sex in July.  After that, she promptly forgot I existed again.  As a result, Victoria's absence had emboldened my former admirers to regain hope.  I was like the kid staring at twenty presents under the Christmas tree.  Except when was my Christmas ever going to come? 

On a Wednesday night early in August, I went with my TGIS class to Cowboy.  Chuck and I were watching the Bumper Car Comedy Show when a woman came over and stood next to me.  Since she was on my blind side, I had no idea who it was.  When I turned to look, it was Taylor.  Based on the gleaming look in her eyes, I felt like she had come to claim a door prize.  How did she know I had a thing for her?  Taken off guard, I immediately began to tremble with desire.  Who cares if she was older? 

Taylor, 45, was the dark-haired beauty I had met at TGIS.  She had been evaluating me from a discrete distance ever since we first met back in March.  I had always felt she was interested in me.  Trust me, the feeling was mutual.  However, Limbo had prevented me from exploring the possibility.  Taylor was a slender woman, very delicate, very lovely, very poised, very Audrey Hepburn. 

When I thought of Taylor, the word that came to mind was 'classy'.  Chuck also knew Taylor.  The word that came to his mind was 'rich'.  The thought of dating a socialite was both intriguing and intimidating.  I would love to learn more about the world Taylor inhabited.  But to do so, I would have to tell Victoria.  I did not dare date Taylor on the sly.  She was not the sort of woman who would consent to becoming the next Madame X.

Taylor got right to the point.  "Rick, there is a society benefit in September at the Museum of Fine Arts.  It is something of a high brow affair that will involve dancing and formal attire.  There will be an orchestra playing Ballroom music.  You are the only man I know who might know anything about Ballroom dancing.  Would you be interested?"  

Would I be interested?  A night with this woman all to myself?  Oh my God, what an offer!  Absolutely!  So of course I turned her down. 

"Taylor, I wish I could help, but I don't know a thing about Ballroom Dancing.  If it was Country-Western or Disco, I would more than happy to help, but I don't want to embarrass you."

Taylor stared at me for a moment.  I could tell by her inquisitive smile that she suspected I was lying [which of course I was].  Fortunately, Taylor was far too dignified to press.  She replied, "Oh, what a shame.  I would have enjoyed your company very much."  With that, she smiled at Chuck, then turned and left.

Chuck immediately jumped all over me.  "Are you out of your mind?  That woman is a princess!  How could you turn down an opportunity like that?"

I refused to look at Chuck.  I was sick inside.  What on earth was wrong with me?  I wanted to accept so badly it hurt.  Just then, Chuck punched me on my shoulder.  Hard!  His blow really stung. 

"What is that for?" I protested.

"That is for lying to Taylor.  You told me you were taking Ballroom lessons from that dance instructor just in case Travolta made a Tango movie or something.  What is wrong with you?"

I gave Chuck a hard, fierce look.  "Chuck, don't you dare ever tell Taylor, do you understand?!  Yes, I lied to her, but now I am counting on you to keep your mouth shut.  Is that something you are capable of?"

Chuck gave me an evil smile.  "All right, I will keep your secret, but first you have to tell me why you turned her down."

"The answer is Victoria, plain and simple.  To do this event with Taylor, I would have to tell Victoria.  Victoria would go batshit crazy.  Victoria is the most possessive woman I have ever met.  She would never agree to let me to do this and I don't want to rock the boat."

Chuck shook his head in disgust.  "So what?  Victoria doesn't give you the time of day.  You only have one life.  Why waste a chance like this?"

"I thought you believed in reincarnation."

"Not when it comes to women who look like Taylor.  I might not meet her in my next life."

Don't tell Chuck, but I secretly smiled at his explanation.  Knowing Chuck would never let this go, I could not take listening to him berate me any further.  So I spotted a woman from one of my classes and asked her to dance.  Full of despair, at the end of the song I relocated to a spot where Chuck could not find me.  I need not have bothered.  When I looked up, Chuck was out on the dance floor with Taylor.  From the looks of him, he was volunteering to escort her to the Society event.  Just shoot me.

So far I had maintained my self-imposed prohibition against dating other women for eight months.  But my will power was weakening.  This thing with Taylor had almost broken my will.  I feared sooner or later I was bound to snap.  However, so far I had behaved myself.  With little else to do, I turned my attention back to the dance floor.  It was time to look for a couple who knew how the Double Turns worked, maybe figure out what my problem was.  Just then a girl named Nina tapped me on the shoulder. 

"How 'bout a dance, cowboy?"

I felt a wave of despair hit me.  One reason I could not solve the Double Turn problem was women like Nina.  Good grief, why won't they leave me alone and let me study the floor in peace?  The irony was overwhelming.  I had just spent the past six years learning to dance just so I could become attractive to women.  Now that I had finally succeeded, I could not act upon my good fortune.  I found this situation utterly cruel.   Oh, how I longed for a chance to resume romantic adventures.  That wasn't going to happen unless I could convince Victoria to set me free.  I knew for a fact I could extricate myself from this problem by simply telling Victoria I was leaving.  However, I always talked myself out of using force.  Surely my freedom was imminent.   'Any day now, just a little bit longer.'

I wasn't completely celibate.  In late August Victoria beckoned me to her bed again.  Considering Victoria was one of the five most beautiful women I had ever dated, one would assume I wasn't suffering too much.  Guess again.  Without a doubt, our sexual relationship was the least satisfying liaison of my life.  Guilt, resentment, distrust, lack of chemistry, whatever the reason, we did not click.  I longed for a woman who sighed with pleasure when I touched her.  Someone like Jennifer.

Basically I stuck around because I was convinced I had a Karmic duty to see Victoria through her time of trouble.  This belief was so strong that I passed on a woman like Taylor.  That alone should speak to how seriously I believed in Fate.  One year ago, I had made a serious mistake allowing Victoria into my home on Doorstep Night.  Still ashamed over giving in to Victoria's will, I considered this Limbo period a fair punishment for my terrible lapse of judgment.  I helped Victoria get into this mess, so the least I could do was stick by her side till the storm passed. 

AUGUST 1980

ACAPULCO
 

Age 14, I had a favorite song, Come a Little Bit Closer.  It told the story of a young man in a Mexican cafe who was lured to his doom by a stunning Latin seductress.  The thought of romancing a beautiful Latin senorita was tempting indeed, but what about Bad Man Jose?

Never in my wildest imagination did I expect to participate in such a dangerous scenario.  As they say, be careful what you wish for.  As Fate would have it, I got my chance to explore this deadly fantasy first hand.  

At the end of the August, I was talking with Bob Job.  I was still in agony over turning Taylor down for that society event.  I knew damn well what the real purpose of Taylor's invitation had been.  Unable to keep my frustration to myself, one night I told Bob Job about my regret with Taylor.  Bob did not feel sorry for me.   

"Good grief, Rick, you say you're lonely?  Then do something about it!  Why don't you just ditch the Limbo Bimbo?  I mean, seriously, just walk away.  If Victoria loses her temper and quits the studio, so what?  You don't need her anyway.  I see the way women look at you.  You're surrounded everywhere you go, so your problem makes no sense at all.  You should be cleaning up.  Don't worry, Victoria is damn good-looking, she'll do just fine.  I imagine someone will sweep her up in no time.  Shed your anchor and go talk to Taylor."

I frowned mightily.  Speaking in Realistic terms, of course Bob was right.  But I had not told him the real reason I stuck around was my superstitious belief that God wanted me to act as Victoria's security blanket.  The problem is that I could very well be wrong.  I was deeply worried that my so-called Instinct was total nonsense.  Lately not a day passed when I did not question my own sanity.  Bob was right.  I was out of my mind to pass up a woman like Taylor.  And yet at the same time I could not shake my Instinct.  And so my internal Debate raged on.

"I know you're right, Bob, but I can't make myself do it.  I really can't explain it, but I feel a connection to Victoria that makes no sense on the surface.  She wants me to stand by her side till she gets her divorce handled early next year."

What I wanted to say is that I believed I had a Karmic obligation to see Victoria out of the mess she had gotten herself in.  But I did not dare tell Bob that.  Only one time in my life had ever shared my mystic beliefs with another person.  At Christmas time in 1978, I had told my girlfriend Patricia about my unusual belief system.  Patricia had laughed in my face and treated my ideas with scorn.  Thoroughly disgusted with me, one week later Patricia had flown to Los Angeles for a reunion with a former boyfriend.  I had long believed her betrayal was directly linked to sharing my thoughts on Mysticism.  Ever since then, I had learned to keep my mouth shut.  

Now I was keeping the Mystical secret from Bob.  I was also hiding the details of my ill-advised Affair with Victoria.  Other than Victoria, no one in my current life space knew the story.  If anyone at my studio knew something, blame it on Victoria.  She was the one with the big mouth.  To my great irritation, Victoria talked about her husband all the time to various students.  However, I had never overheard Victoria discuss how I had become her boyfriend.  Perhaps people had their suspicions, but the subject never came up.  Not even nosy Chuck suspected the truth, so I assumed the world was in the dark.  People like Bob and Chuck thought Victoria and I had connected AFTER she and Michael separated.  Fine, let them think that.  The less they knew, the better.  This explains why I did not particularly want to explain to Bob what caused Victoria's life crisis in the first place.   Unless Victoria said something, the story of our Affair would likely remain a secret.  Nor did I care to explain why my weird views on Mysticism kept me at Victoria's beck and call. 

After Bob listened to my sob story about Taylor, he made a suggestion. 

"I'll tell you what, Rick, why don't you and I get out of town over Labor Day?  You're rich, I'm rich.  Let's go to some fancy hotel in Mexico.  I expect there will be plenty of single American ladies looking for sun, fun, and a good time on the dance floor.  Since there is no way Victoria can check on you, you will be free to pursue all the weekend romance you can handle.  Just make up an alibi and I will cover for you."

That was a very persuasive idea.  I needed to get out from under Victoria's thumb in the worst way, at least for a weekend.

"You're right, Bob,  I could really use a change of scenery.  Besides, I bet they play Disco music in the Latin clubs.  I miss Disco so much.  Where do you think we should go?"

"I don't know.  Where do you want to go?"

"How about Acapulco?  It is a famous getaway place."

"Sounds good to me.  Let's go chase beautiful women down in Acapulco."

Our trip was short.  Get there Friday afternoon, hit the Discos on Friday and Saturday night, head home Sunday afternoon.  Since I did not speak more than three words of Spanish, I was hoping to run into some American girls visiting Acapulco on vacation.  With this in mind, Bob suggested we go to a fancy hotel to increase the likelihood of meeting American tourists. 

My conscience was clear.  Victoria had no right to keep me subjugated while she sorted out her marital woes.  The only reason I cooperated with my incarceration was to keep scandal away from the studio and fulfill my Karmic obligation.  That said, as long as there was no way any word of what took place in Acapulco would ever get back to my captor, I felt free to do what I wanted.  Victoria of course was suspicious about my trip, but I said Bob and I were going to Colorado to do some hiking.  Naturally Victoria quizzed Bob when she saw him at the studio.  When he backed me up, what was she going to say?

So it was off to Mexico.  Back in those days, resorts close to Texas like Cancun and Cozumel were still in their infancy.  Acapulco was the only spot I knew of with a reputation.  To be honest, I had no idea Acapulco was located on the other side of Mexico.  I don't think Bob did either.  Our plane trip was an exhausting six hour flight.  We were so tired when we checked in at 7 pm, we decided to take a quick siesta.  That way we would be fresh when we went on the prowl later that evening.

Neither of us had the sense to bring an alarm clock.  Lo and behold, we did not wake up until 9 am the next day.  Realizing we had just slept for 14 hours straight, we both pointed fingers at each other.  "You were supposed to wake me up!"  

What a couple of morons.  We had just thrown our big night away.  Hours and hours on the plane only to throw an invaluable opportunity down the drain.  Story of my life.  When it came to romance, I was always cursed.  Well, it was Saturday morning and there wasn't anything we could do about it.  Bob and I played a couple games of chess.  I lost as usual. 

Over breakfast, Bob wanted to talk about Double Turns.  Recently we had seen several men Double Turning their partners to Twostep music.  Some guys did it well, some were terrible.  The move was so rare, neither of us had gotten a good look.  The only thing we were sure of is that the man's left hand crossed the woman's head twice as he turned her and appeared to keep the rhythm of the Twostep. 

Bob and I knew how to lead a Double Turn.  Back in the Days of Disco, the Double Turn was every man's Go-To move.  In fact, if the woman was very skilled, someone like Joanne, I might turn her ten times, then drop her sharply into a dip to the oohs and aahs of nearby spectators.  Bob and I agreed that if we could figure out how this Double Turn fit the music, we were looking at the next big thing in the evolutionary development of Western dancing.  Only one problem.  For some reason, neither of us could figure out the timing.  Referring to our problem as the 'The Double Turn Riddle', we had not taken it seriously yet.  Bob told me not to worry, he was certain he could figure it out.  After breakfast, we tinkered around with 'The Riddle' for a while.  As usual we got nowhere, so we gave up and donned our bathing suits. 

We laid around the beach to pass the time.  Very pretty beach by the way.  Then we laid around the hotel pool.  Very pretty girls by the way.  As Bob had predicted, there were plenty of beautiful women at the pool.  However they all had boyfriends and husbands.  This was ridiculous.  Not one unescorted woman in sight!  All this way for nothing!  Sensing my frustration, Bob advised patience.

"Don't worry, there will be single girls at the Disco tonight!"

That night we went dancing at Club Tropicana.  As I guessed, here in Acapulco, Disco ruled.  Note to Reader... Disco was only dead in Houston.  In fact, Disco had two more years to live everywhere else in America and probably Mexico as well.  I was very happy to be back in my element.  At the moment, everyone was dancing Freestyle.  I was pleased to note the men on the floor were not especially talented.  Good.  I had no competition.  Then I studied the women on the floor.  When the best lady dancer became available, I asked her to dance.  She said okay, so we danced Freestyle for a while.  Once we developed a rapport, I started to partner dance with the lady.  She followed me very well, so we looked good.  We were the only ones on the floor who partner danced, so every eye in the room was on us.  It was flattering to be the center of attention.  Bob was more a Western kind of guy, so he did not join me.  He explained that his Disco was rusty, so he needed at least two drinks to loosen up.  When I returned to the table, Bob was still nursing his first margarita.

Shortly after I sat down, a big Mexican guy came over.  Big as in really big, big as in mucho grande.  In broken English, he asked me to come with him.  His English made no sense, but he could point pretty well.  He gestured towards a Mexican lady sitting on the other side of the room.  As I looked over, she seemed kind of young.  However, when the girl waved to acknowledge me, my hesitation disappeared.  Sure, why not?  I walked with the big Mexican guy across the room to her table. 

As I approached, I nearly fell over.  From a distance, I had no idea, but up close I realized this young lady was one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen in my life.  She reminded me of Natalie Wood, a breathtaking beauty in her own right. 

I also noticed this Latin beauty was surrounded at her table by four large Mexican men, all of whom were studying me with deep suspicion.  This was very intimidating.  Who is this girl?  Recalling the story of Bad Man Jose, maybe this wasn't such a good idea.  I might be taking a serious chance here. 

Sensing an air of danger, I took a closer look at the four men.  They were not handsome at all.  They were rough, tough and grouchy.  None of them struck me as boyfriend, brother, or uncle.  They were more like bodyguards.  Right now they were watching me intently with their arms crossed.  However, seeing the young lady smile at me with approval, they seemed to relax a little.  I guess they were just being protective.  I could understand that.  Even pit bulls have to be loyal to someone.  With her looks, no doubt this young lady attracted unwanted attention from creeps and hustlers.  But four bodyguards? 

Turning my gaze back to the girl, the moment she smiled at me, I melted.  Whoa!  This Latin beauty was beyond irresistible.  When she gestured towards the dance floor, forget the bodyguards.  I took her hand and led her out there.  When we reached our spot, I asked her name.  The young lady looked at me blankly.  Oh no, this girl does not speak English!  Damn it!   I wanted to speak to her in the worst way, but that was not possible.  This extraordinary beauty was smiling at me and I didn't know a thing to say.  Frustrated, I wanted to kick myself.  Right now I regretted not taking Spanish in high school when I had the chance.  A knowledge of Spanish would have come in very handy.  At least I would have known who she was and what the score was.  Oh well, tough luck. 

With deep sigh, I launched into a set of my most basic Freestyle moves.  With a smile, the young lady joined me.  As we danced, I took stock of my partner.  She was tall, probably 5' 7", taller in heels.  She had long dark brown hair, light brown complexion, big brown eyes, a beautiful face and a perfect figure.  She was wearing a skimpy black nightclub dress that offered a tantalizing look at her poorly concealed and quite lovely breasts.  I also admired her long, slender legs.  That was some kind of dress.  Very expensive.  With the dress seemingly glued to her body, every curve was displayed to perfection.  I was starting to see why this young lady might need bodyguards. 

Pegging her age at 20 or 21, I estimated she was about 10 years younger than me.  Her makeup was impeccable, her posture was perfect.  Since the girl was so slender, at first I thought she was delicate.  However, I changed my mind when I saw the muscle tone in her bare arms.  Hmm.  Or should I say 'Mmm'?  What a knockout!  I could not believe I was dancing with a woman this beautiful.  She reminded me so much of Nancy, the stunning Hispanic girl who had helped me dominate the dance floor at élan two years ago.  To date, Nancy was the most beautiful woman I had ever spent time with.  This girl was Nancy's equal.  Exquisite. 

Feeling my heart race, I was captivated.  Her dancing was excellent, but not suggestive.  I could see she was holding back.  In fact, this lady was so poised and graceful I had to wonder if she was a model.  Or maybe a drug lord's girlfriend.  Good grief.  Recalling those bodyguards, I took a deep breath.  However, since the young lady seemed friendly and quite harmless, I tried to relax. 

She stopped dancing for a moment and said, "Cuál es tu nombre?" 

I wasn't quite sure what she had said.  Seeing my blank look, she pointed to herself and said, "Mi nombre es Isabella."  Then she pointed at me.  "Quién eres tú?" 

I don't know what was wrong with me, but in the darkness and loud music I didn't get what she was saying.  Now the girl diagrammed an imaginary name tag across her barely-covered left breast.  Seeing her cross her generous bosom with her finger, my mind went to the wrong message.  I instantly went deer in the headlights.  I was so transfixed by her voluptuous breasts that my mind stopped working.  Then it came to me.  Ah, her name!  Of course.  Hmm.  Why was I so slow on the uptake?  Clearly this woman was making me lose my mind.  I am telling you, Isabella was a serious beauty, the kind of beauty that turns men stupid. 

Angry at my confusion, I replied, "My name is Rick, uh, Rico."  I pointed to my own imaginary name tag.  "Rico."

Isabella laughed.  "Bienvenido a Mexico, Rico!" 

I nodded and shook her hand in a playful way.  Now that we were introduced, I decided to see if Isabella could partner dance.  It was fun to dust off my Latin Hustle.  This sexy Disco partner dance featured a woman's hip motion.  It was a forerunner to modern Salsa dancing. 

I took both of her hands and led Isabella in a Hustle move known as the Swingaround.  The Swingaround is extremely easy to lead, so it serves as a good starting point.  Isabella smiled broadly as I led her through some of the basic moves.  Obviously she knew how to partner dance, so I went to slightly more complex moves.  Seeing Isabella handle these patterns with ease as well, I climbed the ladder of difficulty.  Seeing Isabella follow me step for step without a hitch, I decided to turn it on.  We clicked on the spot.  Feeling Isabella respond effortlessly to my lead, I felt a surge of power akin to hitting the accelerator on a sports car.  Isn't Disco fun?  With memories of Camelot, I was transported back to my glory days.  I missed Disco so much!

My years of training allowed me to lead Isabella in a wide variety of flashy patterns.  Isabella danced like she had seen my patterns before.  When I noticed people on the floor move out of the way to give us more room, I realized we had become 'The Show'.  Isabella knew it too.  She slipped into a different gear.  She was no longer dancing for me, she was dancing for every man in the room.  Brushing her hair, laughing, throwing her free hand sharply in the air, Isabella had little trouble drawing attention.  She was a born show-off.  As we raced through a series of Hustle patterns at a rapid clip, every eye in the room was riveted.  How could people not watch?  This woman was not only a sensual, world-class beauty, Isabella moved with exquisite grace.  I was starting to get suspicious.  How do I put it?  Isabella was too good for this display to be chalked up to natural ability.  This young lady had training, I was sure of it.  Not only that, Isabella put the 'Latin' in the Latin Hustle.  She had a way of moving her hips that was out of this world.  Wow.

When the song ended, I placed Isabella in my arms and danced a Cha Cha.  Cha Cha is an easy dance to follow.  Isabella caught on fast.  I quietly thanked Glen for teaching me this dance.  He had explained Cha Cha worked well to Disco music, but this was the first time I had ever tried it.  Why Cha Cha?  It gave me the perfect excuse I needed to put my arm around her bare shoulders and hold her close.  Not close enough for the bodyguards to come on stage, but close enough to feel her aura.  Let me add the chance to see her hips move to the sexy Cha Cha rhythm was a vision to die for. 

We began to dance the Hustle again.  Now that her hips had warmed up, they hit a different gear.  It crossed my mind that Isabella had chosen to trust me.  Having decided I would not hurt her or touch her inappropriately, Isabella danced in a manner, hmm, let's call it 'tastefully suggestive'.  Not 'suggestive' as in vulgar, but rather hypnotic, mesmerizing, beguiling.  With my eyes tracking every movement of her body, for the first time I finally understood why some say Latin women are the sexiest women on earth.  The Hustle was made for this young lady.  With her dark hair flaring out and her long legs on full display thanks to that slinky dress, Isabella was a sight to behold.  Enchanted by her skill, I kept asking myself who this girl was.  What kind of girl looks like this?  What kind of girl can dance like this?  What kind of girl has four bodyguards?  There was a serious air of mystery about Isabella.

A new song came on.  I had just begun another partner dance with Isabella when she suddenly pulled away.  Isabella was obviously feeling confident.  She proceeded to put on a freestyle exhibition the likes of which could only be performed by a professional.  As Isabella moved her sinuous body in tempting ways, I was reminded of a gypsy dancer.  Watching her twirl and move with light-hearted abandon, I trembled with desire like never before.  Two years ago, I once had the privilege to watch three young ladies in belly dance attire go out of their way to make me desire them.  Now I was caught under a similar spell. 

Isabella had decided to do the same thing and it was working.  I was losing control.  One part of me was consumed with lust while the other side shuddered at what those goons might do to me if I was stupid enough to touch her the way I wanted to. 

Would they break my fingers?  Hmm.  With a body like hers, I was seriously tempted to risk danger and try!

How do I describe Isabella's style?  Her dancing was not provocative like a stripper.  Nor was it belly dancing.  However, it was sexy and arousing nonetheless.  Her dancing suggested extensive Jazz training.  I had seen Patsy Swayze's jazz dancers move in similar ways.  Isabella was completely under control as she moved through complex footwork patterns.  Her exquisite arm motion hinted at years of practice.  I wondered if she was a performer, maybe a singer or professional dancer.  Perhaps she was a trained flamenco dancer.  Isabella was THAT good. 

Keep in mind we were only people on the dance floor.  Isabella did not care.  Let them watch.  For that reason, I assumed Isabella had learned to be very comfortable in the spotlight.  Earlier Isabella was showing off for the crowd, but now she focused her look on me.  I stopped breathing.  When she smiled at me with unmistakable interest, I almost died.  I had seen that look before in Texas.  It assumed it meant the same thing in Mexico.  Call it the Universal Invitation to come closer.  I had no idea what was going through Isabella's mind, but she clearly liked me.  I was overwhelmed by the possibility Isabella was dancing like this to entice me.  If so, it worked.  Just how far could I take this and live to talk about it?  Visions of Bad Man Jose raced through my mind.  Who did Isabella belong to?  Was it safe to get closer?  If close, then how close?

The next song was 'Cara Mia' set to a soft Disco beat.  The song was so perfect, I wonder if the DJ chose it deliberately.  The words were in Spanish, but I knew the lyrics by heart.

Cara Mia why must we say goodbye?
Each time we part my heart wants to die
Darling hear my prayer, Cara Mia fair
I'll be your love till the end of time

On impulse, I invited Isabella into my arms.  Ignoring the Disco rhythm, I slow danced with her instead.  If I didn't know better, she was inviting me to 'Come a Little Bit Closer'.  Or maybe it was wishful thinking.  The temptation to grab her waist and pull her tight made a danger signal flash across my mind.  Sensing this was not the right place to make a mistake, I sneaked a quick peek at her bodyguards.  Uh oh, they did not approve. 

Seeing their frowns, they knew what I was thinking.  It wasn't difficult.  No doubt my intentions were written all over my face.  Feeling a sense of caution, I made sure to keep my hands where they belonged.  Otherwise there was one bodyguard for each limb. 

As it turned out, it was not necessary to pull Isabella closer.  She did it for me when she put her head on my shoulder.  Her enchanting closeness signaled the possibility that Isabella wanted our evening to continue further, perhaps be alone with me.  The thought of being alone with Isabella sent tremors through my body. 

What guy wouldn't have these kind of hopes?  As passion made my pulse race faster, I forced myself to analyze the situation.  Thank goodness I wasn't drunk.  For starters, this girl was way out of my league.  I had no business expecting a woman who could have any man in the world was seriously interested in me.  If not for my dance ability, I would have never gotten this far.  Then came the age difference.  Then there was the language barrier.  Maybe if we spoke the same language I could discretely suggest we lose the bodyguards and go somewhere for a drink.  However, as it stood, there was no way to communicate my desire without taking an enormous risk.

Unlike some beauties, Isabella seemed gentle and warm as opposed to aggressive.  Her elegance increased my attraction.  She was a better dancer than any woman I had ever met in a Disco, that's for sure.  Beauty, Warmth and Talent is a dangerous combination.  This was a unique woman to be sure, one of a kind, Helen of Troy.  Not only that, my crush on Isabella was amplified by her reciprocal interest.  Did she want our evening to continue?  This possibility scared me to death because I had no idea what I would be getting myself into.  No matter what my heart wished for, as it stood, this girl spelled danger. 

God help me, I was falling for her.  And I knew, yes, I knew I should leave before the danger showed up.  Overwhelmed with longing, my protective instinct warned me to break it off before I did something foolish.  Without an interpreter, this situation didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of working.  Finally I couldn't take it any more.  A beautiful woman should not be permitted to dance this way and expect me to behave.  She wasn't trying to tease, but her closeness had the same effect nonetheless.  Reeling out of control, I felt the need for safety.  When Cara Mia ended, I abruptly took Isabella's hand and walked her back to her seat.  The audience politely clapped for her and she waved in acknowledgement.  Who is this girl?  Whoever she was, Isabella was used to public attention. 

Isabella smiled and beckoned for me to sit in the empty chair next to her.  I was tempted to sit down just for the opportunity to stare at her a little longer.  Oh my goodness Isabella was pretty!  Lead me not into temptation... oops, too late, I'm already there.  I would have sat down, but my instinct begged me to find safety.  I was so scared of making a mistake.  Since there was no way to talk to her, what was the point?  What I wanted was to be alone with her.  How exactly was I supposed to accomplish that?  Without the gift of language, how was I supposed to separate her from the four chaperons?  Unable to communicate, I envisioned an incredibly awkward scene.  How on earth would I ever negotiate their trust or cooperation?  How did I even know if being alone is what Isabella wanted?  I could stick around and dance with Isabella again, but that would just lead to more temptation.  Not a good idea.  I could not handle any more temptation.  Deciding my odds were beyond impossible, I decided to part with dignity rather than embarrass myself. 

So I took Isabella's hand in both of my hands, smiled at her wistfully, then pointed to Bob sitting about thirty feet away.  "Roberto is my amigo.  I must go."   

A huge sadness came over Isabella's face.  "Por favor no vayas?"  Seeing I did not understand, she pointed to the floor and said, "Dance un poco mas?"  That much I understood, but it was a bad idea given the state I was in.  Seeing her longing smile, I bit my lip as weakness overcame me.  I did not want to leave, but an instinct called 'self-preservation' said it was the necessary thing to do.  Summoning what little resistance I had left, I squeezed her hand, let go and said goodbye.

Clearly unhappy with my decision, Isabella gave me a pouty smile and bade me a sad farewell.  "Adios, Rico."  The bodyguard who had stood up to give me his chair made a path.  Trembling, I walked slowly back to Bob lest I stumble and humiliate myself.  I felt dizzy and terribly out of control.  I was afraid if I looked back, I might change my mind.  I could not help but wonder about the incredible night I had turned my back on.  What was wrong with me?  Why was I running from her?  Why was I so scared to take a chance?  Faint heart and all that.  But deep down, I was afraid to take a chance because the image of Bad Man Jose loomed in my mind. 

When I sat down, Bob had the most amazed expression on his face. "Rick, do you know who that girl is?"

"No, but she strikes me as Instant Death.  I have never wanted to kiss a girl so much.  Why?  Do you know who she is?"

"While you were out on the floor, one of the men came over and spoke to me.  He is with her group and speaks a little English.  He was checking you out to make sure you weren't some drug dealer."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said you were an international sex trafficker." 

"Thanks a lot.  No, seriously, what did you say?"

"I just told him we were from Texas, we were here on vacation and that you owned a dance studio.  That seemed to satisfy him."

Bob stopped for a second while I took this in.  I looked at Bob to see if he was teasing.  No, he was serious.  "Are you saying they were worried about me?"

Bob laughed.  "Yeah, hard to believe, but he assumed you are a player.  James Bond with dance moves."

"Oh, shut up.  Who is she?"

"While we were talking, he told me the woman is a former Miss Teenage Mexico.  Now she works for Pemex Oil and Gas in public relations.  She is here in Acapulco for some special event and this is her big night on the town."

"Did the man explain why she has so many bodyguards?"

"Yes.  He said Isabella wanted to go dancing, but the company insisted she allow these men to come with her due to a rash of kidnappings in the area.  And, get this, the guy said he can tell she was thrilled to be dancing with you."

I shook my head in despair.  Paradise Lost.  Just to kiss her once.  One kiss.  I was so rattled.  Finally I spoke.  "I honestly did not know how to bridge the gap.  Unless she made the first move, I was not about to take any chances.  It does seem kind of weird for her to have a night on the town without any sort of companion.  One would think a classy woman like her could find a friend to come along.  Why was she alone?  Did you ask if she had a husband or a boyfriend?"

"No, but I doubt she is married, not the way she danced.  My guess is that even pretty girls can get lonely.  You guys were a perfect match on the dance floor.  Why don't you go back and try again, see what happens?"

I said nothing for a moment.  I was still trembling from all the conflicting emotions.  Finally I calmed down a bit.

"You know what, Bob, now that I think of it, Isabella did seem kind of lonely.  Now it makes sense.  Isabella wanted to go dancing, even if it meant putting up with the escorts.  I doubt seriously she expected to meet a man who could dance like me.  A little Freestyle was all she was looking for.  With those men following her around, I am sure this was awkward for her as well.  There is a possibility that Isabella does not know how to ditch four men who are being paid to stay at her side.  It's too late now."

Bob said, "Don't be silly.  It's not too late.  She's looking at you right now.  Why not go back and try again?  Maybe she has some ideas how to extricate herself from her watchdogs.  Maybe the guy who can speak English can interpret for you."

"I want to, but the odds are not in my favor.  I still have no way to know what she wants to do.  How weird is it to ask someone I don't know how to gracefully separate her from those men?  The potential for misunderstanding is just too great."

Bob shrugged with resignation.  "You're probably right.  Let me buy you a margarita and help you forget her."

"No, not a good idea.  My judgment is impaired enough as it is.  It was just my bad luck to fall for her so hard.  Isabella is definitely one of the most beautiful women I have ever had in my arms.  I don't know how I ever kept my hands where they belonged.  The thought of touching her still makes me shiver.  If she had kissed me, I would have fallen to pieces."

I stopped talking for a moment.  My mind raced through the possibilities, but every strategy I came up with would be a long shot at best.  The word 'Leave with Dignity' was dominant in my mind.  Better that I leave now while I still could.  "Come on, Bob, let's get out of here before I change my mind and race to her.  And if I do change my mind, be sure and tackle me."

Bob nodded and rose from the table.  I took a deep breath and permitted myself one last look.  Yes, Isabella was watching me.  Our eyes met and I could read her mind.

"Come a little bit closer, I'm all alone and the night is so long..."

With tears in my eyes, I waved goodbye from a distance.  When she waved back, it broke my heart.  I turned and left swiftly.  In fact, the moment I was out of sight I actually ran as fast as I could to my room.  I had to get away from before I changed my mind.  My eyes were full of tears all the way back to our room.  The moment I closed the door to our room, I screamed with anguish.  It took a while, but Bob finally caught up with me. 

"I swear, Bob, I could not take my eyes off Isabella.  Long ago I dated a girl very similar to Isabella.  Her name was Nancy.  Nancy taught me what this kind of beauty can do to a man, but tonight was even worse.  Honestly, I have never felt so out of control.  Look at me, I am still shaking.  That girl is so sweet, I am afraid of her."

"I'm not quite sure I understand.  You've been around beautiful women before.  Victoria is pretty close to Isabella's league.  Why are you going to pieces over this girl?"

"It is more than her beauty.  Even though we could not speak, we shared a spark out there on the dance floor.  I could actually tell the moment she began to trust me.  She let down her guard and surrendered to my lead.  It was like she was saying 'take me, I'm yours' in some sort of unspoken way.  From that point on, Isabella let me do whatever I wanted without fear.  It was intoxicating to have such a special woman trust me completely, a stranger no less."

I tried to suppress my tears.  It wasn't easy.  Bob patiently sat there while I cried a little.  This was a very embarrassing moment for me.

"I'm sorry, Bob, I ruined your evening.  I apologize for making such a fool of myself.  I've been so lonely thanks to Victoria's off and on treatment, I guess I am more than slightly vulnerable.  But this was the closest thing to love at first sight I have ever experienced.  There was a feeling that passed between us that went beyond words.  I have never had a woman cast a spell like that on me before.  Right now every nerve ending in my body is on fire.  What is it about a woman's beauty that can have that kind of effect?"

Bob laughed. "Don't feel bad, Rick.  It's pretty easy to love a woman like Isabella.  I was in love with her too!  I've never seen a woman move like that.  Just be glad you can partner dance.  I was impressed.  You guys looked terrific out there.  Like you always say, dancing is the fastest way to get a woman you don't know into your arms.  It was fun watching you prove your point."

I nodded.  "It crushes me to think she probably wanted to be alone with me too.  I just could not conceive how to get past the language barrier.  If she had been alone, that's one thing, but how was I supposed to know what she wanted with four men watching?  To begin with, I was afraid of getting shot down if I asked her to be alone with me.  For that matter, I was worried about getting beat up.  I was also worried there was someone who hadn't shown up yet.  Plus I was intimidated by being in a foreign country.  But do you know what I was afraid of the most?"

Bob smiled.  "Falling in love?"

"Yes!  I was terrified of falling head over heels in love with Isabella and never seeing her again.  You know what, that's what really stopped me.  I don't have the strength to risk a broken heart.  I know how that feels and it hurts like hell."

"Come on, Rick, let's play some chess.  You need to take your mind off that pretty girl."

Bob beat me three straight.  Shame on him to take advantage when I was hopelessly in love.  I did not sleep well that night.  Mostly I laid in bed thinking about Isabella.  My dancing had impressed her, I knew that much.  But the thought that I had reached her on an emotional level was more than I could handle.  I cursed my helplessness.  Fully aware that she wanted to know more about me left me forlorn.  I had never had someone capture my heart so effortlessly.  I just wish we had met under more auspicious circumstances.

Bob and I got up late on Sunday morning.  After breakfast, we spent the morning walking along the beach.  I was in a daze the whole time.  I had never come under the influence of a beautiful woman quite like Isabella.  There was a sweetness about her that haunted me no end.  Certain I would never meet another woman like her again, I spent the day sick with regret. 

Due to my weird Limbo situation, I had been thinking about Odysseus stranded on an island with the sea nymph Calypso.  Isabella reminded me of another story from the Odyssey. 

On the way home to Greece, Odysseus and his men were caught in a huge storm that took their ship to the far end of the Earth.  Totally lost and facing one difficulty after another, the Greeks wandered across the Mediterranean Sea for many years. 

One morning the Greek ship approached the rugged, mist-covered cliffs of an isle where beautiful Sirens sang to the sailors from above.  Their sweet song masked a hidden danger.  Many ships had sailed closer only to meet their end on hidden rocks below.  Odysseus had been warned of this danger by the goddess Circe.  Fully aware that the seductive sirens sang a song so haunting that it lured men to their death, Odysseus had the ears of each sailor plugged with wax. 

As for himself, Odysseus was determined to hear the irresistible song of the Sirens.  He had the men tie him to the mast, then warned the sailors not to untie him no matter how much he begged to be freed.  Although Odysseus nearly went mad with desire, he was able to live through the strange ordeal. 

Last night it had been my turn to deal with overwhelming temptation.  I had never physically run from a woman before, but that is exactly what I had done in my desperation to be free of her spell.  I had never felt more powerless in all of my life.  The allure of Isabella's sweetness and beauty was so strong that I could not bear to be near her any longer. 

I knew the stories about women whose charm was so great that they had the power to drive a man to madness.  Now I understood.  I can honestly say I was scared last night.  The pain from fighting the temptation to pull Isabella to me and kiss her had been unbearable. 

That afternoon, Bob and I boarded our plane for the long flight home.  So much for our swinging bachelor getaway.  I cannot recall a time when I felt more depressed.  The pain of losing Isabella was so great, another thought crossed my mind.  

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.'

I am not so sure about that.  Whoever said that, I just wanted to kick him in the teeth and tell him he was crazy.  I was overwhelmed with mourning.