He wasn't expecting to see the Cuban again, but traveling has a way of keeping people in the same orbit. Earlier, while sitting with his work spread out across a cafe table, Neil looked up and noticed the Cuban stealing a glance at him, at his work, did he have something on his face?
A few minutes later, the Cuban sat down at the table next to Neil, not to disturb the work or the process, and struck up a conversation, asking Neil about his work, where he was from, why he was visiting Cuba. As soon as Neil answered all of the questions, the Cuban's friend waved him down and he left. The air felt a bit warmer after.
That night, under the colored lights and in the press of bodies in that nightclub, the Cuban made his reappearance.
Pulled in; a drink or two, or three; beat and movement aligned; a dark alley; a set of stairs; a flash of a smile to the churro cart guy in front of his hotel early the next morning.