“Woopsy daisy,” Grant said, standing me upright. “Let’s get you to the plane. Think you can play sober?”
“I’m definitely sober,” I slurred.
“Sure. Well, how about you let me do all the talking and you concentrate on staying vertical?”
“Okie dokie, daddy-o.”
7
“Soph. Soph.”
A familiar cologne filled my nose, and I woke up with my face on Grant’s chest. He’d raised the middle armrest, and he had his arm around me, resting on my hip. It was a sensual presence, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove it. My hand flew to my face, checking for drool. Thank God for small favors. I hadn’t drooled on him. That’s where the small favors ended, though. When I sat up, my head was pounding, eyes burning from the sun.
“Oh, God.” I gripped the sides of my head to keep it from splitting open. I’d always been able to hold my liquor, but I must have gone too hard, too fast in an effort to calm my nerves. And now I was paying for it. “Jesus, turn the sun down.”
“Here. I have something.” Grant found a break in the disembarking passengers and pulled our carry-ons from the overhead. I rummaged in my backpack for my sunglasses.
“Here.” He handed me a familiar oblong white pill and a mini bottle of water.
“I don’t need another one of those. I need ibuprofen or acetaminophen.” Mine were currently God only knows where with my Xanax.
“This is an acetaminophen,” he said.
“No, that’s what you gave me before we boarded,” I argued.
“Yeah. Acetaminophen.”
“You told me that would help calm my nerves!” I said, overly loud in the small plane, immediately regretting it when my head protested.
He shrugged. “It got you on the plane, didn’t it? And you’re in one piece, aren’t you?”
I was an odd mix of pissed and thankful. “Thank you,” I finally said, shoving my hand down in the small front pocket and pulling out my medicine bag that contained the elusive Xanax. “Well. There’s that.” I laughed, sighing and pulling out my sunglasses. “At least I’ll have it for the plane ride home.”
We were the last ones off the plane and began the long trek to claim our baggage. My head ached with every step we took, and I wondered if he’d be willing to wheel me through the airport on a baggage cart. The airport was somehow ten times more packed than LaGuardia had been this morning. But then again, it was early evening on a Saturday in Hawaii.
“Traveling would be so much better without people.” I stared at the conveyor belt that paraded the suitcases past weary travelers, willing my purple luggage to be the next one to appear.
“Hey, guys.” Tyler walked beside us and took his suitcase from the belt. “I’ll see you around.”
Finally, my purple bag rounded the corner, followed by Grant’s sleek black Gucci suitcase.
“Now we go to the opposite end to rent a car.” Grant pointed me in the direction of the car rental, and I reluctantly turned to begin the hike. I wanted to whine and protest and take a nap in a dark closet. Hangovers didn’t agree with me.
After a few moments, I saw the back of Tyler in the crowd, heading the same direction. The view from behind was even better than the view from the front. I pulled my sunglasses down for a better view, pushing them back up when the sun’s rays stabbed through my skull.
“Who are you ogling?” Grant asked, looking ahead. “Tyler?”
“Jealous?” I asked, even though I knew damn well he wasn’t. It was hard to picture him jealous when I looked like I’d gotten dressed in the dark during a fire.
“Of Tyler?” He snorted. “Hardly.”
“Well, you’ve been flirting with anything that has two legs and a C-cup, so I think it’s only fair that I get to ogle someone.” I adjusted the strap on my backpack, cursing myself for packing so much.
“I have not.”
“And now you’re defensive? Relax, it’s just who you are. You flirt with everyone, even if you don’t realize it.” Did he seriously not know this? I’d watched him over the last few years flirt with everyone from the meter maid to the boss. “Some people are just natural flirts. And some people can’t flirt to save their lives.” Like me, for instance.
“You can flirt.” He followed my line of thought.
“Ha!” I barked, then grabbed my forehead. Won’t do that again.
“Seriously, I’ve seen you. Mostly when you think no one’s looking or paying attention. Now, when you try to flirt? Oh, now that’s a disaster. But you have the talent; you just need to be more sure of yourself.”
“Sure of myself. Yeah.” I’d never been an overly confident gal, having always been a little heavier than my sisters my whole life. I was rather chunky in high school and managed to lose a lot after graduating. As an adult, I’d settled between a twelve and fourteen, and the scales refused to budge. I had been working on body positivity and loving myself, and I’d made progress but still had a ways to go.
“We’ll work on it. By the time this week is over, you’ll be a flirting fiend.”
We’d reached the car rental counter and stood in the ominously long line, watching person after person leave with their blessed car keys. Freedom from this hell.
“Is this going to be like one of those teenage makeover movies? Where the cast spends the entire movie telling the heroine what a loser and nerd she is, then at the end she’s a total babe and then the main guy wants to be with her? If so, pass.” I’d always hated those movies. If you don’t like me at my worst, you don’t deserve me post makeover.
“Hardly. You don’t need a makeover, current wardrobe notwithstanding.”
It was finally our turn, and we stepped up to the next available clerk.
“I’m sorry to say we just rented our last car. We can reserve one for tomorrow, but today is booked.”
“Are you actually kidding me right now?” I said. “This just goes from bad to worse.”
“We’ll just get a cab. It’s fine.”
“It’s a fifty-mile drive. Besides, we need that car for the week, and I’m not paying for a cab back here in the morning. I’m not going to be stuck at a resort all week with no way to escape my mother, and I’m sure as shit not staying here tonight.” I removed myself from the line and started walking. Where, I had no idea.
I spotted the giant green sign that indicated coffee, and thinking that wouldn’t be a bad idea, turned and headed that way. Maybe that would help this afternoon hangover. I gave a fleeting thought to catching the first flight back but knew Mom would tan my hide and Rebecca would never forgive me.
“We’ll just take a cab to the resort from here, and if we want to get away from things, we’ll rent a bike or something.”
“Oh, brilliant. We’ll bike across the island of Oahu. Mom will love the fact that I’m exercising. Honestly, Grant, do I look like a woman that rides a bike?” I saw pity in the poor barista’s eyes when she took in my state of distress. “Can I please get the biggest cinnamon latte you have with six shots of espresso? And a soy latte for the gentleman here. Oh, and one of those donuts.” I was stress eating. Whatever. I shoved my credit card in the reader before being prompted, and saw Grant returning cash to his wallet. We’d officially landed at our destination, so it was my dime from here on out.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear—”
I whirled around to see Tyler standing behind us.
“I have a car and we’re going to the same resort. I probably won’t need it the rest of the week. You’re more than welcome to share it with me.”
I turned back to the barista. “Give this man anything he wants. On me.”
“Just a small latte, please,” Tyler ordered and I paid.
“You’re a lifesaver, I swear. Just let me know how much I owe you and I’ll either write you a check or give you cash.”
“A check? Are you ninety?” Grant whispered.
Coffee in hand, we found the car that Tyler had rented. A sleek red littl
e number that looked like it went fast. Not bad, not bad. I slid into the backseat, holding onto my coffee like it was a lifeline. At this point, it was. I was certain I looked just as bad as I felt, and I was glad that I’d be able to sleep, shower, and change before seeing the rest of the family tomorrow.
“Can I buy you dinner, Tyler?” It was nearing that time, and I was starving since I’d missed the in-flight meal. Grant likely didn’t want to wake me up for fear of me panicking again. Which was fair. Still, I hadn’t eaten since the little bit of breakfast more than twelve hours ago. I’d had plenty of booze on an empty stomach, though, which is probably why I felt so wretched. I had every intention of going to bed immediately after dinner, whether the sun was down yet or not.
Grant found a restaurant with good reviews about halfway across the island, which meant it wasn’t as packed as the restaurants directly on the beach, and that was fine by me. The fewer people between me and food, the better.
We dined on traditional Hawaiian fare, and when I’d stuffed myself to the gills, we finished the trip across the island to the Turtle Bay Resort. I was too tired to do any exploring tonight, especially not now that I was overly full. The sun had set during dinner, and I was anxious to crawl into bed and sleep until tomorrow afternoon. Tyler was staying in a room with his brother, which meant he got to skip checking in and went straight to his room. We exchanged numbers and promised to hang out again while we were here, and to grab lunch sometime back in New York.
“Hello, and welcome to Turtle Bay Resort. Do you have reservations?”
“Yes, I do. Sophie McAllister.” I handed her my ID and credit card as she searched my name in the computer.
“Spell your last name, please.”
“M-C-A-L-L-I-S-T-E-R.” It wasn’t a common last name, so I was used to this.
“First name S-O-P-H-I-E?”
“Yes.”
“Could they be under Sophia or a different name?” Her brows were pulled together as she tried to search again.
“I don’t know. I called and made the reservations for Sophie.”
“Did you get a confirmation email?” she asked.
“No, he didn’t ask for my email address.”
“You made reservations for a hotel and didn’t get a confirmation?” Grant asked, annoyed.
“Do you want to sleep on the beach with the crabs?” I didn’t need Grant’s judgment right now. I needed a gallon of water, an ibuprofen, and a bed.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have any rooms under Sophie McAllister,” she finally said.
“Oh, my God, this has officially been the worst day of my life.” I rubbed my temples as I tried to work out a plan.
“Let’s just go to a different hotel. It’ll be fine.” Grant tried to gently turn me away from the counter.
“No, no, my mother will have a field day with that. The room number was 510, check that.”
“Ma’am that room is booked for someone else.”
“Are you sure it was the Turtle Bay Resort?” Grant asked, trying to help troubleshoot.
“This is where the McAllister-Daniels wedding is, correct?” I asked, even though I was certain this was the right resort.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay. Tell you what. Just give me whatever room you have available, all right?” I’d take a broom closet at this point.
“The only room we have left is a honeymoon suite.”
“Of course it is. This is fucking brilliant. What is it, double the price of the other room? Triple?” I was nearing hysterical.
“It’s $650 per night.”
“Great. Brilliant. That’s just perfect.” The room I’d booked was only $225.
“I’ll pay the difference,” Grant offered, taking out his wallet.
“No, no. I promised an all-expense paid trip, and you’ll get it. Here.” I tossed my credit card over the counter.
“All right, here’s your card. Sign here, and here’s your key.”
I signed the receipt, not looking at the total. I didn’t need to revisit my dinner.
“Do you need someone to assist you to your room?”
“No, thank you, I think we’ll manage.” I swung my backpack over my shoulders and looked at the map she’d given us. As was the theme for today, the honeymoon suite was on the opposite end of the resort. “Son of a bitch.” Plus side, though, was that it was in a little bungalow all on its own. For $650 per night it better be. And there’d better be a mint on my pillow. I stomped away from her.
The walk to the bungalow was beautiful enough to lift even my sour mood. The sun had just set, and the walkways were lit with tiki torches and soft lights strung above our heads. Our bungalow had a small lanai that overlooked the beach, and I was looking forward to having a cup of coffee there in the mornings with a nice book. I rolled my suitcase into the bathroom and flipped the light on.
“Holy shit. Grant, come in here!” I stood, dumbstruck, at the sight before me.
He stepped in behind me and whistled.
The bathroom was huge with floor-to-ceiling marble. There was a giant two-person bathtub on a platform directly across from me, and a large shower with at least six shower heads to the left. The vanity was on the right with an ornate mirror above it. The toilet was tucked into a small room to the side.
“Well. This might just be worth it,” I said, heaving my suitcase up onto the sink to find my pajamas. “Maybe we get a personal maid who washes our back for us.” I was going to go to bed and tomorrow was going to be a better day, come hell or high water.
“I think I’m going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join?”
“Maybe tomorrow. Right now I just want this day to end.” And I meant it.
“Okay. Tomorrow.” He closed the door behind him as he left.
Finally. I removed the clothes that I had been in for hours and slipped into my silky pajamas, purchased just for this trip. I washed my face and took my hair down from its ponytail, which helped relieve some of the headache.
The bedroom was just as incredible as the bathroom. A king-size bed faced a sliding glass door that had a perfect view of the ocean. A small living room area with a TV was off to the side, and a small kitchenette was connected to it. Leaving my suitcase at the end of the bed, I crawled beneath the covers and drifted off to sleep.
A coolness at my back woke me, and I reached to pull the covers up, only to be met with resistance. Rolling over, I opened my eyes to see Grant sitting on the side of the bed, wearing nothing but pajama pants. He turned his lamp off and laid back, covering himself and adjusting his pillow.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Jesus Christ!” He jumped. “I’m going to bed. I had the same day you did.”
“Not with me, you’re not.”
“Do you see another bed for me to sleep in?” He gestured around the room.
I pointed to the sleeper sofa.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I assure you, I am not,” I said.
“Sophie, we are both adults. There’s no reason we can’t share this giant bed. Are you afraid something is going to happen? I don’t think of you that way. I just want to sleep.”
I was well aware of how he thought of me. That still didn’t mean I wanted to share a bed with him. “Out.” Anyone else, maybe. Not him.
“For God’s sake.” He threw the covers off and took the pillow over to the couch.
Scooting the coffee table out of the way, he pulled the sofa sleeper out and made himself as comfortable as possible.
“Good night,” I said.
He grumbled and rolled over.
Soon enough, sleep took me once again.
I had just taken a bath and wrapped myself in a towel when Tyler came into the bathroom, hair damp from swimming in the ocean. He didn’t stop, just came straight for me, pressing me against the counter and kissing me. His hands traveled up my thigh beneath the towel, slowly moving up until he found my nipple. I moaned agai
nst his mouth as he teased me. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he rocked his pelvis against me.
“Oh, God, Tyler.”
He moved his mouth from my lips down to my neck and collarbone, nibbling along the way. I wanted to reach my hands down and release him from his swim trunks, but I found I couldn’t make my hands obey. It didn’t matter, he knew what I wanted. I closed my eyes as he freed himself, opening them again when he filled me. His sandy blonde hair had been replaced with dark hair, and he had a shadow of stubble across his jaw. He was no longer wet from a swim, but was wearing a familiar sweater. “Grant,” I whispered.
Grant removed my towel as we moved together, and I used my hands to push his jeans from his hips. I dug my nails into the muscles of his back as he clutched my hips, pulling me closer.
As I exploded around him, Grant didn’t let go, but continued, making it all the more intense as he found his release, calling out my name.
8
My eyes shot open and I sat upright.
“You need to get it together, girl,” I said, the dream still fresh in my mind. Looks like that three-year dry spell is really starting to take a toll.
On the plus side, I felt like I had slept for at least twenty-four hours, despite the unsettling dream. According to the clock, it had only been eleven. Still, I felt better, so I’d take it as a win.
My parents would be here today, and before Mom barraged me with a million questions regarding my relationship, I wanted to have a beach day. A day where I sat, alone, on the shores of paradise, reading the tawdry romance that I’d packed for the trip. Despite my love of the city, the population of New York could be overwhelming at times. The sun was still tucked beneath the horizon, and I brewed a large pot of coffee, anxious for my first Hawaiian sunrise.
While it percolated, I changed into my bikini and ugly floral cover-up. I hadn’t been able to find a decent one-piece bathing suit yesterday, and this cover-up was the only thing I could find to go over it. I’d hoped for something a little younger and hipper, but it was too late for that. It was rather shapeless, and the floral pattern reminded me of something from the eighties, but I’d rather wear this than parade around in a bikini. I wasn’t sure how I could swim in the stupid thing without it weighing me down and drowning me, but I’d figure that out later.
Faking Paradise Page 5
