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Page 3
 Soon after, the four of us marched down the main steps onto the broad, clean sidewalks and streets of this fragrant, summery resort.
It was nighttime by now. The last faint glow of dusk shone dimly on the horizon, while the lake waters had become an unfathomable blackness livened up by a few gently churning, brightly lit tour boats out for the evening dinner and dancing cruise.
The four of us were renting two condos in this building just for the week. There were about two hundred other time shares and apartments in this huge, sprawling white complex with its brick-red roofs nestled amid thick tree crowns.
It's a town where rich people from all over the world come to sit in the sun, sail on the lake, gamble a little at the casino nearby, go for drives in the hills and woods, or just enjoy the rustling of palm trees, the smell of night-blooming jasmine, the splashing of blue water sparkling with sunlight.
Locals here can make pretty good money as waiters, waitresses, drivers, and all the usual resort occupations. It's pretty much the same as that Belle époque stuff, come to think of it. How different do things really ever get? The rich come to party, do drugs, do deals, have their way. The poor work below stairs and run around saying yessir, yes ma'am, while hoping for a good tip. Then they spit in the bushes and move on to the next song and dance for a few coins. I worked with a concierge office in a big hotel back home while I was busting my cheeks going to nursing school not long ago. I learned much at first hand about valets, doormen, housekeeping, and all the rest of the honest work ordinary folks do to stay alive, and still manage to have fun and smile brightly as wealthy folks tip us (or don't; whatever).
But don't get me wrong. I keep it light and have fun. It's just that the background noise (history, Adolf, Bambi) was making faint music in my subconscious the whole time as I stepped out with my girlfriends. It was all about to come back, haunting me…
We were having a nice time that evening. As the hour grew late, we managed to stay reasonably sober, just having a pleasant buzz. A few men (some too old, some too young, nobody just right) asked us to dance, and we did as isolated singles. It was a laid back, easy going evening until about eleven.
Who knows what happens around that time. Maybe the boaters come back from the lake, and the drivers return from the countryside. A lot of locals get off work, and everyone is out to have a last glass or two, a couple of wild dances while the DJs spin their albums or whatever, and the waiting staff get a lot of exercise rushing through the crowd holding their trays high.
At some point, we four girls stood together debating if we should retire for the night, get a good sleep, and work on that tan by the cabanas at the lake tomorrow. We really didn't want to call it a night yet, so we agreed to each have just one more glass of wine. From this particular lakeside resort and casino, it was a walk of about three blocks back to the complex where Dori and I shared an apartment, and Laurel and Sheri had a similar pad on the deck above.
We stood within view of the lake, where at this hour I could see tour boats draped in multi-colored lights slowly and gracefully cruising up and down. The loudspeakers in our venue were loud, but not deafening. You could hear bits of music pounding and wafting over the waters from the lake.
The multiple French doors all stood open, letting in a cool, fragrant night air.
And of course we were aware of the eyes upon us. Some of the men were locals, while others were from money and out of town. At this hour, all blended together, it was hard to tell them apart. The money mingled with the townie, and they all sought the honey (that was us).
We commented among each other that some of the guys were tall and attractive, a few almost like movie stars, but as Dori said, too many hard eyes, too much hunting in those looks. All four of us are professionals. I'm a nurse practitioner or NP, Dori is an RN, while Sheri and Laurel are both high school teachers with M.A. degrees. It's not that we're stuck up, but we are definitely choosy. We're single, in our early twenties, and certainly open to meeting someone nice. I don't think any of us were seeing that sort of guy, not even Dori who was a drink or two ahead of the rest of us.
That is when everything changed for me.
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