“Wait. Are you renting the white adobe place with the infinity pool?”
Again, I smile. Little nod.
“So Rosa is the cook there?”
I don’t answer, I don’t need to. An embarrassed shrug will do.
“Oh, I love that place. And Rosa’s mole is divine. Just thinking about it makes me hungry.”
“I’m always hungry,” Broodje says, leering. She looks at him quizzically. I give him a discreet kick.
“That place is very expensive,” she says. “Have you ever considered buying something down here?”
I chuckle. “Too much responsibility,” says Willem, Millionaire Playboy.
She nods, as if she too understands the burdens of juggling multiple properties. “Yes. But there is another way. You can own, and have someone else take care it for you, even rent it out for you.” She pulls out glossy brochures of several different hotels—including the Maya del Sol.
I glance at the brochures, scratching my chin. “You know, I heard about such an investment for tax-sheltering purposes,” I say, channeling Marjolein now.
“Oh, fantastic moneymaker and money saver. You really should see one of these properties.”
I pretend to casually glance at the brochures. “This one looks nice,” I say, flicking a finger at the Maya del Sol brochure.
“It’s sinfully decadent.” She starts telling me all the things I know about the place, about the beach and the pools and the restaurants and the movie theater and the golf. I feign disinterest.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Oh, at least take a tour!” She’s practically pleading now. “You could even do one today.”
I heave a big sigh and allow my eyes to flicker toward her for a brief minute. “We’d planned to see the ruins. That’s why we’re renting a car.”
“I can arrange a free tour of the ruins for you.” She reaches for another brochure. “This one goes to Coba, and you swim in a cenote and go on a zip line. I can throw that in for you two. Gratis.”
I pause, as if considering it.
“Look, you can go, spend the day.” She beckons me closer. “Don’t tell them I told you but you could even spend the night. Once you get past the gates, you’re in.”
I look at Broodje, as if seeking his permission to do the girl this favor and take her tour. He gamely plays along, giving me a put-upon look that says, well, if you must.
I crack a smile at the girl and she positively beams in return. “Oh, fantastic!” She starts to write us up the paperwork, all the while chatting about the tour we’ll go on. “And when you get back on the Isla, you must go to Mango. The brunches are to die for.” She looks up from her paperwork. “Maybe I can take you.”
“Maybe,” I allow.
“Will you still be here for New Year’s?”
>So many girls, I’d thought. Why am I trying to find just one?
Palacio Maya, another of the faux-Mayan resorts on my hit list, is a few kilometers north of here. We putter up the highway, breathing in the fumes of the passing tour buses and trucks. This time, we stash the moped in some flowering shrubs along the winding manicured road that leads to the front gates. Palacio Maya looks a lot like the Maya del Sol, only instead of a monolithic wall, it is fronted by a giant pyramid, with a guard gate in the middle. This time, I’m ready. In Spanish, I tell the guard I’m trying to find a friend of mine who’s staying here but I want to surprise her. Then I slip him a twenty-dollar bill. He doesn’t say a word—he just opens the gates.
“Twenty dollars,” Broodje says, nodding his head. “Much classier than a couple of beers.”
“It’s probably what a couple of beers go for in a place like this.”
We walk along the paved roadway, expecting to find a hotel, or some evidence of one, but what we find is another guard gate. The guards smile at us and call buenos días, as if they’re expecting us, and by the way they’re appraising us, like they’re cats and we’re mice, I see the other guards have called ahead. Without saying a word, I reach into my wallet and hand over another ten.
“Oh gracias, señor,” the guard says. “Que generoso!” But then he looks around. “Only there are two of us.”
I reach back into my wallet. The well’s dry. I show my empty wallet. The guard shakes his head. I realize I overplayed it back at the first gate. I should’ve offered up the ten first.