The thing had gone terribly wrong. She’d just taken a weekend trip to the beach with Sandi, who had convinced her that it was time for her to put herself back into the dating scene. She’d gone along since in truth she had been very lonely since Peter left the year before. The man called himself Ray and he was beautiful; tall, statuesque, the body of a god. Little did she realize how true it was.
Things between Priscilla and Ray were wonderful for the first month or so. They had gone to what had become their favorite little bistro and not one but two girls were chatting him up when she came from the restroom. When she asked him about it, he told her they were his concubines. Speechless, Priscilla left the bistro and refused to take Ray’s calls for three days. On the fourth day, it began to rain.
By the third month of rain and many unanswered calls from Ray later, Priscilla began to worry. The national weather forecasters were stumped and the rain seemed to not be letting up. Sandi had been checking out the bistro and had driven by the beach a few times but reported back that she’d seen no sign of Ray; the only proof she had that he’d even been around was one of his rings she’d found on the pier, although the “y” was missing.