Imobiliare bucuresti

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More comfortable than mine

Perhaps I was better off here. Besides, there was no reason to make an immediate decision. My new-found confidence buoyed my spirits all day, making me all the more certain that Lisette’s remarks had been motivated by her insecurities over her divorce. It would be foolish to take her words too personally. By comparison I was fortunate. Surely I could spare a imobiliare bucuresti little compassion. Even though Lisette had left with Lek, and I had to cope with the long evening ahead, my mood remained positive. I still had my friends at the Mango Inn. After a late lunch I went back to my hut, took a shower and put on a pair of shorts I’d bought at the market.

Much shorter than the ones from home, they emphasized the length of my legs and my new tan. Not bad, I told myself, slipping a blouse over my black bathing suit top. I’d take off the blouse when I joined the volleyball game. I was about to start off when I noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Eddy. His easy saunter imobiliare bucuresti and, of course, his trademark hat, gave him away. I waited, my hand moving up to smooth my hair. Then down, tugging at my open blouse, trying to cover my bare midriff. Johanna.

You look great, he called out as he approached. Are you going somewhere? For a walk. Nowhere in particular. Want some imobiliare bucuresti company? Falling into step we strolled along the beach, stopping from time to time to look out to sea, chatting about nothing in particular. When we came to a spot where the huge leaves of a palm tree fanned a patch of sand, we both looked up. No coconuts. Laughing, we dropped, side by side, imobiliare bucuresti onto the sand. Time for a fag, Eddy said, reaching into his bag for his cigarettes. After a couple of puffs he handed it to me.

I had no real desire to smoke, yet I did, anyway. The act of sharing his cigarette created an aura of intimacy. I handed back the cigarette, slowly exhaling, aware of how easily I could fall into the old, familiar habit. You never really forget how to enjoy a cigarette. After he ground the butt in the sand, Eddy got to his feet and held out his hand. Shall we continue? I reached up, allowing myself to be pulled to my feet, an unexpected shock of heat running through me at his touch. His blue eyes twinkled from beneath his hat, making me smile. A sense of being pulled by a magnet overpowered my will to resist. I didn’t ask to where we were continuing.

We walked, in silence, in the direction of the Mango Inn. I started to feel apprehensive about being seen with Eddy when, to my relief, he stopped. There’s a place that sells cold beer up the hill. We could buy a couple of bottles and take them back to my bungalow. When he turned away from the water, I followed his lead, out of view of the Mango Inn. After purchasing the beer, which I paid for, we continued on to Eddy’s hut. Make yourself at imobiliare bucuresti home, he said, motioning toward two chairs and a small table on the veranda. Then disappeared inside. I leaned back in one of the cane chairs, and surveyed the territory.

A nearby tree provided shade and although the hut was farther back from the water than mine, it had a good view of the beach, yet offered privacy. Perfect for an afternoon drink. After a few minutes Eddy reappeared, a bag in one hand and an opener in the other. He sat across from me, uncapped one of the bottles, took a drink, then extended it to me. I tipped back the bottle—wet and slippery—taking a long swallow. Eddy bent over the bag he had set on the table and, imobiliare bucuresti reaching inside, produced an unusual looking pipe.
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