Desert Mirage

By Di

I finally had to admit that the 'short cut' I thought I had mapped out was no short cut after all. I was totally lost. Lost and alone in the middle of a steaming desert, three bottled waters and two half-melted Snickers bars to my name. I'd driven for three hours without seeing another living soul, if you didn't count the occasional bird flying overhead. I decided an hour ago that they had to be buzzards, just waiting for me to use my last sip of water to wash down the candy bar before collapsing on the desert floor. About the only thing I'd done right today was making sure the gas tank was full before leaving the final outpost of civilization that boasted "Last Chance for Gas and Water" proudly as if it were the town motto.

It was blatantly obvious that the bureaucrats in charge of highways had come to the decision that posting signs out in the middle of nowhere was a waste of money. After all, no one in their right mind would be driving out here if they didn't already know where they were going…right?

I steered the car off the road, careful not to pull over far enough to allow the tires to sink into the soft sand at the shoulder. The seat belt whirred as it recoiled into its resting place inside the door panel, and I reached into the back seat to retrieve the map I'd thrown there earlier. With no visible landmarks and my unerringly terrible sense of direction, I told the little voice in my mind to shut up, reached for the door handle and stepped out of the car.

The heat that slammed into my body took my breath away instantly. Dry heat, my ass! Hot is hot, I murmured to myself as I gingerly spread the map across the front hood of the car, careful not to touch the hot metal directly. I located "Last Chance" on the map and, using it as a starting point, I began to trace the route I had taken. Calculating the miles I had driven, I came up with a rough estimate of my current location. My inability to determine north from south and east from west is only exceeded by my total lack of being able to judge distances on a map. By following the line that depicted the highway, I was fairly certain I was on about half a pinky finger from the next town down the road.

Heat shimmered up from the pavement in waves, causing everything to have a somewhat dreamy effect. Two inches in front of my foot, a scorpion lazily made its way across the road, oblivious to my existence.

The inside of the car felt like heaven as I slid under the steering wheel and tossed the map behind me. A quick check of the gas tank showed half a tank remaining, more than enough to get me to the next town if I didn't get lost again. I snapped the seat belt back into place, shifted the car into first gear and eased back onto the road.

What a god-forsaken place this is, I thought to myself. I watched the radio scan through the frequencies twice without finding an active signal. Finally giving up, I reached for the CD case that lay on the passenger seat. It took some fumbling and steering with my knees, but I finally managed to free the disc I wanted and slipped the "Evita" soundtrack into the CD player. A quick twist of the knob and I was enjoying my own private concert as I made my way across the flat and barren wasteland.

There weren't many distractions like curves or hills; the road was mostly flat and straight. A slight rise caught me off guard and, as I topped the crest, I was even more surprised to see a small dot of color about a mile up the road.

The heat waves distorted my view, but I could see whatever it was up there was red, definitely red. I kicked off the cruise control and allowed the car to start slowing down on it's own. By the time I was about a quarter-mile away, I could see the outline of the car and the movement of someone pacing back and forth beside it.

I slowed to a crawl and came to a stop directly behind the red car. The word "PORSCHE" blazed at me through the windshield. Amazingly, the man continued to pace back and forth as if my arrival had gone unnoticed.

Clouds of what looked like smoke rose from the raised hood of the expensive car. I turned off my car and stepped into the heat once again. A loud hiss split the desert silence as steam, not smoke, escaped from the radiator of the Porsche. No wonder he hadn't heard me drive up, I realized.

I turned my focus back to the driver. His back was still to me, but I could see him punching furiously at the buttons on the keypad of the mobile phone he held in his hand. He raised the phone to his ear, giving me an opportunity to analyze what I could see of the man standing in front of me.

My eyes fell to the pavement, my mind apparently deciding to start the analysis from the bottom up. Nice start, I thought to myself, as I took in the brown, suede cowboy boots he wore. Not brown, really, I decided. More the color of a rich, buttery caramel, undoubtedly soft to the touch with slightly raised heels. It was obvious they were favorites and not something recently purchased.

The fact that he was wearing jeans had registered as I pulled up, but I had no real appreciation of the fit of those jeans until this very second. Light blue in color, the denim clung tightly to the muscular thighs they encased and stretched enticingly across a perfect ass and hips. Jeans that tight weren't going anyplace on their own, but he had chosen one of the most beautiful belts to hold them in place. Every color of the rainbow was represented in the circle of leather than spanned his waist.

At first glance, navy was the color I would have assigned to the shirt. On closer inspection, however, I decided royal midnight blue was a better description. I admired the way the silky material clung slightly to his shoulders, falling in soft folds until it met the confines of the jeans and belt. The sleeves were turned up twice, revealing dark hair covering the tan skin of his forearms. A quick mental image of that shirt falling from his body into a silken pool at my feet filled my thoughts.

My eyes moved upwards once again, taking in the soft eruption of curls that covered the back of his head. Nearly black in color, the desert sun caught hidden highlights and shine that may not have been obvious indoors. The curls just begged to be wrapped around a finger, and I barely stopped myself short of reaching out to let them do just that.

The mind is an amazing thing, and I realized the entire analysis process had taken only seconds. I would have been happy to have it go on for hours.

The man in front of me suddenly took the phone from his ear, cocked his arm and threw the device forcefully out into the sand of the desert followed by a string of Spanish profanities.

My mind whirled with all the information gathered in the last few minutes: the boots, the belt, the hair, the exotic, sexy sound of the curse words. It reached a startling conclusion at the exact second that the man turned to face me. Unable to stop myself, I heard my voice whisper, "Mr. Banderas?"

There was surprise in the almond eyes for only a second. Brows furrowed together, he strode purposefully in my direction.

"My phone doesn't work." He waggled a finger in the direction of the car parked behind his Porsche. "Do you have that 'Star' thing, or whatever it is called, in your car?"

"It's a rental. It doesn't come with much more than the bare necessities. Apparently we are in what they call a "dead spot" in the communications world. I couldn't even get a radio signal so I'm sure there are no towers anywhere close for the cel phones. It looks like there's a town a few miles down the road from here. Why don't I give you a ride and you can see if there is someone there that can tow your car?"

Resignedly, he nodded, walked back the front of the Porsche and lowered the hood. A quick shove shut the driver's door, followed by the beep of the door locks being engaged. I watched in amazement as he somehow managed to slide the keys into the front pocket of the tight jeans.

"Um, what about your phone?" I asked and watched as he spun on his heel. Puffs of dust rose with each step after he left the pavement. I had always thought that watching him walk away was worth the price of a movie ticket. I found myself mesmerized once again as he bent to pick up the small black phone.

I managed to regain control of my senses, opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. Antonio crossed to the passenger side, sliding gracefully into the low-slung bucket seat next to me. "Nice," he said approvingly after a quick glance around the car.

Handing him one of the bottled waters from the cooler, I managed to murmur a quiet "Thanks". Inside I was mentally high-fiving myself on the decision to upgrade my rental from the horrible little compact they had tried to stick me with to the indulgent little sports car.

I turned the key, and the engine roared to life, along with the CD player. A feeling washed over me that can only be compared to one of those occasions when you are singing with a large group and the music stops. The rest of the group quits singing and you…. don't. Music blasted at full volume as the familiar strains of "Oh, What A Circus" filled the car. I cast a sideways glance in his direction as I fumbled with the knobs, quickly trying to turn down the volume. Laughter sparkled in his eyes, his lips gathering into what women fans everywhere know from movies and pictures as "the mouth thing".

It was just what was needed to diffuse the tension, and within minutes he relaxed into the seat. Humming along, his fingers tapped in time to the music on the tightly stretched denim covering his thigh. A blush colored my cheeks as I drove in silence. All the while my mind was screaming, "I have Antonio Banderas in my car!" over and over again.

"You know, it is going to be very hard for me to thank you for rescuing me from the middle of the desert if I don't even know your name." He smiled coyly, reaching his right hand in my direction. "Hello, I am Antonio Banderas. And you are?"

I took his hand thinking I never wanted to let go again. "Kelly, Kelly Sinclair. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Banderas."

"Antonio, you must call me Antonio. After all, you may have saved my life out there! I had not seen another car on the road for over an hour, and I guess I was ill prepared for car problems. I am lucky you came along."

I turned to meet his gaze. "I suppose now would be a good time to tell you that there was no good reason for me to be there when I was. Actually, I missed a turn or something and I'm completely lost."

Instead of concern, a big grin crossed his face. "Then I am truly lucky!"

Antonio dismissed my questioning why he was in the middle of nowhere with a quick "a friend asked me to meet him out here" and turned the question back at me. I found myself explaining in detail that I had recently opened my own freelance marketing consulting firm, and that I had been on the way to meet with the President of a large distribution chain.

I could feel his amused glance as he took in the shorts, T-shirt and sandals I wore.

"That's why I took the 'short cut' in the first place! I wanted to get to town a few hours early, get cleaned up and show up at their offices in the fancy suit that is so carefully stowed in the trunk. I am now officially," I turned my wrist to check the time, "an hour late. Which means I can kiss that nice fat contract goodbye. Oh well, I guess things will be tight a little longer is all. "

Serious now, he reached out to brush the backs of his fingers along my arm. "Surely they will understand. If you call them and explain…"

I started to laugh at the scenario that was running through my mind. "Explain that I took a wrong turn, got lost in the desert and found Antonio Banderas standing alongside the highway? Even I wouldn't believe that story!" My eyes left the road long enough to sneak a peek at the man who sat chuckling beside me.

I turned back just in time to see the first road sign for miles zip past the window. Instinct took over and I slammed on the brakes. The car fishtailed to a halt just as the road ended in a "T".

"Wow! That was close!" Ten more feet would have sent the car sailing off the road and into the desert landscape. I shoved the car into reverse and backed up to read the sign. The two options were clear, ten miles to the right was a town that was evidently so small it didn't merit a mention on the map. Twenty miles to the left was the town I had seen earlier. City driving habits took over and I flipped on the left hand turn signal.

Just as the car started to move, I heard, "Wait, wait, wait! Turn right! Turn right!"

"Are you crazy? There's nothing down there but a little hole-in-the-wall town! There's no way there is going to be anyone there that can go out and tow in your car! Why in the world would I want to turn right?"

Antonio reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. Unfolding it, he read the notes, looked at the road sign and back at the notes again. "Yes! This is the turn my friend told me about! Turn right and it is only a few miles from here that I was to meet him."

"Okay, but I hope you know what you're talking about because we are dealing with a limited gas supply and not that much longer until it starts getting dark." Against my better judgment, I turned the car to the right. The road headed directly toward a large rock outcropping that seemed totally out of place in the flat barrenness of the desert.

A noise that sounded vaguely like thunder shook the car and I could see plumes of dirt rise into the air just beyond the large rocks.

"There! That is where we need to go!" Antonio pointed in the direction of what looked like small explosions.

I could feel his eyes on me as I muttered, "this is nuts" under my breath.

We drove in silence for the next few miles. The road curved around the rocks and I was shocked as we reached the other side. There, spread out in front of us, was what looked like a completely mobile small town. Trucks and trailers were parked everywhere. Tables and tents were set up in the sand. Several hundred feet into the desert a boom truck sat by itself, the long crane extended high in the air.

"Stop! This is it!"

I brought the car to a stop beside one of the trailers. As we got out of car, I could hear shouts of "Hey! Antonio! How's it going, man?" coming from several directions.

Antonio caught the attention of one of the men sitting just under the shade of the largest tent. "Hola, Ramon! Where is he?"

"Just where you'd expect him to be," was the answer that rang back. The man laughed, pointing to the large crane we'd seen as we pulled up.

A small 'boom' sounded, and a pillar of dirt shot straight into the air. Minutes later the dust began to clear, and we could see a man seated at the very pinnacle of the crane. A second explosion sounded to the left of the first. I could barely see him as he climbed down the crane, jumping into the small jeep parked there. Dirt spewed in his wake as it raced across the desert floor, screeching to a halt in front of the tent. The man that emerged from the vehicle was instantly recognizable; the floppy fishing cap and baggy cargo pants were almost a trademark for Robert Rodriguez.

Antonio grabbed my hand, dragging me along as the two men closed the distance between them. Robert grabbed Antonio around the neck, pulling him into a huge bear hug. "Glad you could make it, man!" He shot a quizzical look in my direction before asking, "Where you been anyway?"

Antonio put an arm around my shoulders, giving me a quick squeeze. "Robert, this is Kelly Sinclair. She is a…" One eyebrow raised and he deliberately slowed his speech before continuing, "…a 'media marketing consultant'. Si?", he asked, looking to me for confirmation. I nodded, and he continued, "And, as of today, she is my new guardian angel. If she had not come along, I would still be standing out on the road beside my car wondering if anyone would ever find me!"

"What!? The Porsche broke down out there? Well, Kelly, we all owe you one for saving the star of my next movie, then, don't we? The instructions were okay, though? You didn't have trouble finding us out here?"

Antonio laughed and clapped the bigger man on the shoulder. "When you are looking for Robert Rodriguez, all you need to do is look for explosions! He cannot be far away!"

I stood by, watching the exchange between the two men who were obviously good friends with many shared jokes between them. When the banter slowed for a minute, I took my opportunity to break in. "Listen, I really should get going. I need to find that town back there, get a room and gas up the car so I can start for home in the morning."

Robert was having none of it. "Listen, we're losing the light here anyway so let me wrap this up. We'll all head to town and grab something to eat. All right with you?"

"Si, and I need to make arrangements about getting the Porsche towed…"

Robert interrupted him with a wave of his hand. He spied a small, wiry man leaning against one of the trucks, his hands flying as he talked to several crewmembers gathered around.

"Hey! Ernesto!" The small man interrupted his conversation, looking in Robert's direction. "We're done here for today. Can you wrap this up? I need to talk to Antonio so we're gonna cut out. We should all be back here tomorrow at about six o'clock to get the light we need for those next shots. Let everybody know, okay?" The man raised his hand in the universal "okay" sign. "And get Pedro to take one of the equipment trailers out to pick up Antonio's car and haul it into town." Antonio explained where the car had been left, and we were ready to head for town.

Robert reached out to tousle Antonio's curls. "You'd better work on getting that grown out, mi amigo! Right now you look more like 'Miguel Bain' than 'El Mariachi'!"

Antonio playfully batted his hand away. "It'll grow! It'll grow! You just worry about your part of getting this movie ready and I'll worry about making the 'Mariachi' come to life! Are you ready to try to keep up with this crazy madman, Kelly?"

We barely had the seatbelts buckled when the jeep whipped past us on the right. Dirt rolled, and we could hear the squeal of the tires as they hit the hot pavement. It was all I could do to keep Robert in sight as the jeep sped towards town.

Antonio pulled an empty water bottle from the beverage holder. "Is there any more of that water left?"

"There's one more in back, I think."

He undid the seat belt, shifting to lean between the seats. His nearness brought a flush to my cheeks. Turning back, he settled back into the seat with a water bottle in one hand and my portfolio in the other.

An eyebrow rose. "Your work?" With a nod of his head, he indicated the portfolio.

"It's just a sample of some of the stuff I did at my previous job. I was going to use it at that meeting I missed today."

His finger moved over the clasp that held the folder shut. "May I?"

A flush rose to my cheeks again as I nodded. I kept my focus on the road ahead, even as I began hearing approving noises from the man seated next to me.

"These are good, Kelly! If they do not agree to reschedule the meeting, it will definitely be their loss, not yours!" I turned to smile my thanks just in time to see him slipping one of my business cards into the pocket of the blue shirt.

The small town came into view on the horizon. Red brake lights lit up in front of us as Robert steered the jeep off the road, parking in front of a small motel on the right. He disappeared into the door marked "Office" and returned with two keys in his hands. Tossing one to Antonio, he handed the other to me.

"How about we just go across the highway to Rosa's Café? Not too fancy, but the food's good and it's quiet enough so we can talk." Leaving the cars parked where they were, we crossed the almost deserted highway.

An elderly lady met us at the door. It was immediately obvious that Robert had been here before by the pleased look on her face. The room boasted ten tables, each covered with a paper tablecloth, a small candle and the obligatory condiments. We passed the two occupied tables as the woman led us to a small table in the corner. A flurry of conversation in Spanish passed between the woman and the men seated beside me before she turned to walk back to the kitchen.

Robert looked at me apologetically. "Sorry, I just asked her to give us a little time to talk before she brings the food. That's okay, isn't it?"

For the next hour I watched in amazement as the two men discussed the basics of the script Robert had written, storylines, possible stunt work, preliminary casting ideas and such. Digging into one of the cavernous pockets of his cargo pants, Robert came up with a pen, and began writing things down on the paper cloth. Both men were quick to request my opinion, asking if I had any suggestions as they worked through scene after scene.

The swinging door swooshed. The three of us looked up in unison to see the woman make her way toward our table, balancing three huge platters. Robert jumped up, quickly grabbing the paper tablecloth that was now covered with notes, lists and cartoon drawings. He folded it quickly, gave the woman a smile and helped her set the platters on the table. The food was delicious and the conversation animated as we ate. When we rose to leave, the woman exchanged hugs with each of us before sending us on our way.

The sun had set while we were inside. Stars twinkled in the night sky, highlighted by a full moon lighting our path back to the motel. I grabbed my bag from the trunk of the car as we passed. Antonio reached to take if from me, both men insisting they would walk me to my room before saying goodbye.

Room 217 appeared much too quickly, and I turned to face the two men standing behind me.

Robert took my hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "Thanks for all your help tonight. It always helps to get a woman's opinion on some of this stuff so we don't end up with nothing but a macho movie. Elizabeth is tied up with the kids at home so it was great that you happened along to help out! Don't be surprised to see some of your ideas showing up on screen when you get to see the finished product!"

I reached up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for letting me tag along! I guess getting lost can have its advantages sometimes, huh?"

Robert stepped back, allowing Antonio to move in front of me. We looked at each other for a few seconds before I felt his hand come behind my neck, pulling me into an embrace. "I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me today. Not many people get to know that they actually have a guardian angel, and I now know that mine is named Kelly!"

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I hugged him back. He raised his head, brushing my forehead with his lips. I could feel his warm breath on my ear as he whispered, "Gracias, mi amiga" before releasing me.

I watched as the two men walked toward the steps leading to the first floor. When they reached the landing, both turned to wave before disappearing from view. I stepped inside and leaned against the closed door. How different this day turned out than what I had planned when I got up this morning!

The next morning started when the alarm buzzed loudly, causing my heart to skip as my eyes flew open. I frantically tried to remember where I was. Everything came back in a rush. I grabbed the phone and thumbed through my notes for the phone number of the distribution company. It took several rings until the phone was answered on the other end. I quickly explained who I was and the circumstances that caused me to miss the meeting the day before. The voice on the other end instructed me to hold the line, leaving me to listen to the canned music for several minutes before returning. "Mr. Alexander has asked me to inform you that the circumstances are of no consequence. Your services will no longer be required." Before I could utter a word, a sharp click could be heard, followed quickly by a dial tone.

Muttering a few expletives under my breath, I dialed the number to my office. The professionalism of the woman who answered belied the smallness of our two-person agency, putting it on par with the larger Los Angeles firms that boasted hundreds of employees. I filled her in on the failed meeting the day before, and the outcome of the attempt to reschedule. Telling her I would be back in a couple of days, I hung up the phone and headed for the shower.

Memories of the time spent with Antonio and Robert kept me company on the trip home. This time I stuck to the main highways, making frequent stops to admire the beauty of the desert that had escaped me before. The change of pace was just what I needed. I arrived home refreshed, ready to refocus my attentions on getting the business off the ground. I kept hearing Antonio's voice saying "It's their loss, not yours" and it gave me a whole new perspective in my approach.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to our small office. Inez looked up with a look that said both that she was happy to see me and that she was sorry about the lost account.

"Welcome back, boss! You've got messages in your voice mail that can be returned later, but I wrote these two down for you. They both sounded very anxious to talk to you, and both mentioned 'finalizing contracts'. I thought you were out there taking it easy on the way back! When did you have time to meet with other potential clients?"

"I didn't!" I reached for the pink message slips she held out. Written on the first one was "Robert from Troublemaker Studios" with a phone number and the notation "Needs to meet regarding contract". The second one read "Antonio/Green Moon…marketing contracts drawn up. Call to set up meeting for signature."

I let out a small whoop, grabbed Inez on my way past her desk and pulled her into my office behind me. "Have a chair! Let me tell you about this trip of mine…"