Guardian of the Fountain Read online

  Guardian of the Fountain

  By Jennifer Bryce

  The characters and events potrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Guardian of the Fountain

  Coypyright Ó 2015 by Jennifer Bryce

  Cover desing by Claudia Mckinney PhatPuppy Art

  Text design by Catriona Crehan

  To my family for putting up with my crazy bean-headed ideas.

  Chapter 1

  The cool cucumber slices on Chrissie’s eyelids soothed her eyes, which were tired from doing a night shift at the hospital. Her feet soaked in the warm, soapy water of the pedicure bowl and the rose mud mask made her face itch only because she couldn’t scratch it. All the tension of the week drained into the pedicure bowl as she relaxed in the massage chair. Who cared if her hair hadn’t been washed in four days and she smelled like rubbing alcohol?

  Chrissie heard high heels click against the tile and the sound of squeaky vinyl as someone sat down in the pedicure chair next to her.

  “I need the works today, Tina,” the young woman’s nasally voice made Chrissie cringe.

  “You’ve been busy, Lexi?” The soft Vietnamese voice asked.

  “I’ve had such a stressful week planning the charity ball for Daddy. But if all goes well I might be planning my engagement party next month,” Lexi whispered.

  Chrissie had been hoping for peace and quiet this morning, but the woman didn’t show signs of stopping her chatter. She was glad the woman doing her pedicure didn’t talk much.

  “I’m just crazy about my new boyfriend. The only thing I have to compete with is that silly truck of his. He has it lifted so high, I almost need a step stool to get in.”

  What a coincidence. Her boyfriend babied his truck too. Trey was always waxing his pride and joy. He showed more love to his truck than he did to her. Trey was so hot and cold these days, it was hard to know what was going to happen next with him. According to his standards, she didn’t do anything right … ever. She hadn’t heard from him over the last four days, which didn’t matter much because her twelve-hour work schedule didn’t leave time for a social life.

  “I wish everyone could be as happy as I am.” Lexi sighed. The baubles on her bracelet made noise as she removed her heels and tossed them to the floor.

  Chrissie took the cucumbers off her eyes and threw them in the pedicure bowl. It was no use—she wouldn’t be getting a short snooze with this woman chattering her ear off. It was hard to be amicable with a sleep deficit. She looked over at the obnoxious redhead sitting next to her. Her airbrushed tan glowed orange under the fluorescent lights in the spa making her appear she might be kin to an oompa loompa.

  Chrissie decided that someday, she would have a real tan from an exotic location, but she’d have to stop living vampire hours first.

  Lexi reached into her pink purse and pulled out her bedazzled cell phone. It made a light tinkling sound. “Oh, how sweet. . . Look! He sent me the cutest text. He says that I’m so hot. Seriously, he is the best boyfriend ever!”

  At that same moment, Chrissie’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She reached in and retrieved it. With one finger flick, she read the text. “You are so hot. Love, Trey.” The picture that accompanied the text was a selfie of him flexing in his bathroom mirror, his towel hanging dangerously low. Leave it to Trey to admire himself in front of the mirror for hours on end. The two hours he spent at the gym every day not only built muscle, but an obviously gigantic ego as well. Mirrors surrounded him there, too.

  “Look at this pic of him.” The woman squealed. “Isn’t he so good-looking?” She thrust her cell phone into Chrissie’s face. It was the exact same text, down to the picture, that Chrissie had received.

  “Well, isn’t that just sweet?” Chrissie tried to smile, but her teeth were gritting, and her heart now resided in the pit of her stomach. “Tell me more about your boyfriend.”

  “His name is Trey. He is twenty-four. He tells me every day that I’m the only one for him. My daddy hired him three months ago at the car lot.”

  “How long have you been dating?”

  “Almost three months, two days, six hours, and thirty-six minutes. But who’s counting?” Her high-pitched giggle grated against Chrissie’s frayed nerves. “We’ve been through a rough spot lately, but it only made us stronger.”

  “Oh?” Chrissie seriously doubted this woman had experienced any rough times in her rich life.

  The woman leaned over and whispered, “I recently tested positive for a teensy-weensy STD.” Her index finger and thumb showed a small space in between. “Trey said he got it from his ex, who broke his heart. A girl named Chris or something or another. Poor Trey.”

  “Oh, really?” Chrissie managed to say calmly when she really wanted nothing more than to strangle Trey. Her fists ached to punch him in the face. They were the only two people who knew the truth. However, she couldn’t count on him to tell it, obviously. Chrissie still held tight to the value of waiting for marriage. Her strong Christian values were met with Trey’s resistance. His high-pressure sales on the subject had fortunately turned Chrissie off. If Trey had given this vapid woman a STD, another woman—or multiple women—were involved. Chrissie felt oddly relieved that she’d dodged a huge predicament.

  “He said if we could get through this, we could get through anything.” The woman leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, smiling.

  Chrissie pulled up her phone, snapped a picture of the woman, and texted Trey. “Spa day! Met your girlfriend, Lexi.”

  * * *

  Trey was waiting in the parking lot to Chrissie’s apartment building as she pulled up. Coming home from a busy night shift and an unforgettable salon visit hadn’t set her in the friendliest mood. “Ah, crap.” She jammed her junky Toyota Corolla into park.

  Chrissie decided he didn’t even deserve an acknowledgement of his presence. To ignore him, walk briskly, and lock the door behind her was top priority as she exited her vehicle. Rather than look at him, she meticulously looked for her apartment key on her key ring as she walked to her building.

  Trey jogged to catch up to her and stood in front of her, blocking her way. “Look, baby. Honestly, I was just trying to decide between you two.” Trey rubbed his hands up and down Chrissie’s arms. She kept her arms tightly folded across her chest.

  “Oh, really? It looked like you pretty much decided. I don’t ever want to be in a competition against another woman, and I especially don’t want to be a runner-up, either!” Chrissie twisted away from Trey. Her blood pulsed with anger through her veins.

  “It’s all your fault this happened, baby. If you’d satisfied your man, we wouldn’t have this problem. You can’t just throw away two years. This is just a little hiccup in our relationship, baby. If we can get through this, we can get through anything.” Trey tried to tilt her chin with his finger and gifted her with his most charming smile.

  “Just like the STD you gave the other girl?” Chrissie sweetly smiled back at him.

  Trey’s wall of coolness crumbled. “How did you know about that?”

  “Look, baby,” Chrissie said, “you lose. Your consolation prize is a chatty girlfriend with an STD. She might have money, but you can’t buy class.” She turned on her heel and headed inside her apartment.

  * * *

  Chrissie’s mother came over as soon as she heard the croaky, “Mom?” over the phone. Dianne’s mothering instincts were always spot on when it came to Chrissie. They sat on the oversized couch in Chrissie’s bare apartment.

  “You know I’m not really sad about ditching Trey.” Chrissie sniffled.

  “What has you so u
pset then?” Dianne handed Chrissie a box of tissues.

  “I’m afraid of being alone.”

  Dianne gave an understanding nod. “Ah, I see. Well, I can tell you something I know to be very true. It is better to be alone and happy, than with a jerk who cheats. You can have a blissful filled life without a love interest. A special someone is meant to compliment your life not drag you down. You know the moment you forget about looking for someone is the moment they usually show up.”

  “You’re probably right.” Chrissie pulled her knees up to her chest. The clock in the kitchen ticked loudly away during the silence as she contemplated all that her mother had said.

  “Sweetie, I think you need to get away for a while.” Dianne smoothed down Chrissie’s hair in an expertly soothing way.

  “I can’t, Mom. I have to work. I have student loans to pay off.” Chrissie sniffled.

  “I know. That’s why I was so excited to find this.” Dianne handed her a colorful folded pamphlet.

  Chrissie read it out loud. “‘Come experience exotic Venezuela while paying off student loans. Loan forgiveness for humanitarian service while having fun. For medical personnel only.” She sighed. “Sounds too good to be true.”

  “Sometimes when life gets a little rough, we’re handed a break. Besides, I think you got lucky.”

  “Oh, yeah? How’s that? I’m twenty-four, I live by myself, and my boyfriend has another girlfriend he conveniently didn’t tell me about.”

  “Well, your father and I didn’t want to tell you, but we never liked him. We watched as you bent over backwards to please him. You’re such a free spirit, and you were trying to change yourself to make him happy.”

  “Except one thing …” That one thing she wouldn’t change for any man. Chrissie new she wanted to save herself for marriage. Mom was right, as always. She was young and unattached. Now would be the perfect time to go out and explore a little. The option of living life to its fullest was a tantalizing prospect she didn’t think she had time for. She had all the time in the world come to think of it. “You know what, Mom? I’m going to do it! I’m going to find myself, and the first place I’m going to look is Venezuela.” Chrissie sat up straight on the couch with resolve forming in her mind. She wasn’t going to let a creep like Trey slow her down. He wasn’t worth it. She’d wasted too much time on him. If dumping Trey and moving to a foreign country meant being perpetually single, then so be it.

  * * *

  Chrissie sat on her large suitcase to zip it shut. Her flight departed in three hours. Nervous anticipation fluttered in her stomach. As much as it took to plan and prepare for this new adventure to Venezuela, it was a welcome distraction from Trey. He hadn’t called or texted once since Chrissie left him in the parking lot three weeks ago. Every time she opened the paper, she expected to see an engagement announcement featuring the happy couple.

  Chrissie grabbed her purse, keys, and the rolling suitcase before heading out the door. “Hey, honey,” her dad, Wayne, called from his truck. He hopped out and helped her put her suitcase in the back. He groaned under the weight of it. “What did you pack in there? A body?”

  “Very funny, Daddy. We all know there’s only one person’s body I’d stuff in a suitcase, but I would definitely not be taking it to the airport.”

  “Guys,” Dianne scolded. “The neighbors might hear.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll be out of the country soon.” Chrissie grinned as she high-fived her dad.

  “It’s not her you should worry about,” Wayne commented. “If I ever run into that good-for-nothing…”

  “Okay! Time to load up,” Dianne exclaimed brightly. “We really should get you checked in at the airport.”

  “Leave it to Mom to change the subject right when it gets interesting.” Chrissie rolled her eyes and got into the truck.

  Saying farewell to her parents was tearful on both sides. All she had was her parents, and she, being their only child, was all they had. Chrissie told herself over and over again that it would only be for a year and they’d email weekly, if not daily. Five hours of flight time and a whole new culture, all in one day. There would be plenty to write about in that first email.

  * * *

  When the plane touched down and skidded to a bumpy stop on the tarmac, Chrissie almost felt like a whole new person. She had left behind heartbreak and was starting over. Chrissie promised herself that she wouldn’t hold herself back from experiencing everything she could in the most authentic way by living the next year to the fullest.

  She walked down the ramp to retrieve her luggage. An older Hispanic gentleman with a jean jacket and straw hat held a sign that read, “Señorita Chrissie Stevens.” He had her only piece of luggage already at his feet.

  She walked up to him. “Hola, me llamo Chrissie Stevens.” Her Spanish came out choppy and gringo. Boy, did she wish she had paid better attention in high school Spanish.

  “Wonderful! I’m Arturo, your driver to the village. Dr. Wilson has sent me to pick you up. Shall we go?” His Spanish accent was thick, but it was far better communicating this way than if she tried to speak his language. His smile seemed to reach from ear to ear with brilliant white teeth against his dark native skin. He grabbed her bag and began pulling it behind him to a car waiting outside the automatic doors. The humid tropic air flowed over her as the doors opened to the outside. Arturo loaded her luggage into the back of a Prius. Three bungee cords later, the hatch was secured.

  The larger metropolitan area bustled with life that was jam-packed into the streets. People drove like they didn’t value life—only honking through the slow spots and stop signs, swerving in and out of traffic at high speeds. Brightly multicolored houses built up on top of each other on the hillsides surrounded the city. As they drove farther and farther out of town, the buildings became sparse in the tropical green vegetation. Chrissie’s eyes were glued to the sights outside her window. The hour-long drive flew by in what felt like only minutes.

  Arturo drove down the cobblestone main street of the tiny village. At the end of the street, he turned left onto an even narrower alley and stopped in front of a door and a window with shutters. “We’re here at your apartment, Señorita. I’ll unload your bags while you go in and check it out.”

  Chrissie exited the vehicle and walked up the steps to the door. Tentatively, she walked into the humble apartment. The very small one-bedroom living space smelled freshly scrubbed. One small sofa and a two-person kitchen table were the only things that could fit into the tiny space. One interior door in the far back led to the bathroom, and another to a small bedroom with a bunk bed.

  “I’ll be leaving now. Is there anything I can get for you?” Arturo asked as he set her bag down just inside the front door.

  “No, thank you. I should be fine.”

  “The clinic is at the very end of Main Street, and the café is near it as well. Marla is your roommate. She should be home at six, and will bring dinner home with her.” Arturo tipped his hat as he left the apartment and closed the door.

  Chrissie rolled her suitcase into the bedroom to unpack her things into two empty dresser drawers and a very small closet, which was half-filled with Marla’s things. One by one, with every item Chrissie put away in the quaint apartment, she felt that her decision to come to Venezuela had been the right choice. More importantly, she was thousands of miles away from Trey. She could start over.

  The sound of the front door slamming shut alerted Chrissie that she wasn’t alone anymore.

  “Hello?” a female voice called out. It was probably Marla.

  Chrissie shook her thoughts free of the past and went out to greet her new roommate. Marla’s olive skin tone and dark hair almost made her look like a native Venezuelan, but this woman showed flavors of Jersey—long, manicured nails, large hoop earrings, and makeup heavily done with bronzer.

  “Hey girl, I’m Marla.” Her raspy Jersey accent sealed the deal. She walked over and set down two white carryout bags of food on the small ki
tchen counter.

  “I’m Chrissie. I just got in not too long ago.”

  “Yeah? I bet you’re beat. Let’s eat, and then I can show you my favorite spot on the roof to tan. Prime tanning hours are late afternoon. Don’t want to pass that up. A good tan makes you look ten pounds lighter, and that’s the truth.”

  “I’m in.” Here was her chance to work on that tan in an exotic location. She changed into her bathing suit with anticipation of soaking up some much needed sunshine.

  As they made their way up to the roof of the apartment, Marla filled Chrissie in on the details of the village. “There’s only one decent nail lady. She doesn’t speak a lick of English, and she’s all the way in Caracas. There are absolutely no attractive guys under forty here. The slim pickings are making the Guido’s back at home look good.” Marla walked expertly in her leopard-print platform wedges to a lounge chair on the roof and lay down on it.

  Chrissie’s flip-flops and jean shorts looked blah next to Marla’s various animal prints. Her cheeks warmed as she took off her oversized T-shirt and revealed her pasty white skin in her tankini. Marla seemed completely unaware of Chrissie’s awkwardness about stripping on the rooftop. True, it was situated away from prying eyes, but she still felt exposed even though she wore twice as many clothes as Marla.

  “Here. You’re gonna need this,” Marla said as she tossed the tanning oil over to Chrissie. “Take off your shorts or they’ll leave ugly tan lines. I’ll work on the tankini later.” She smiled behind her dark sunglasses that took up most of her face. They lay in the warm sun for a while before Marla asked, “So, why did you come here? What are you running away from?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Chrissie got the idea that Marla knew what she was talking about.

  “Look, girlfriend. Give it to me straight. Nobody comes all the way to the deepest parts of Venezuela just to pay off student loans. I’m guessing it was man trouble.”

  “Wow. You’re good. How could you tell?”