by Lulu Pratt
“I’m quite all right without any of your hands,” I sniffed.
He laughed aloud, a quick bark from the back of his throat, and the plane took off.
We were in the air for maybe five minutes before Finn stood up, dropped his book, and made to the bathroom. Chrissy followed close behind him – a bold move, considering there were only five of us on the plane – but he turned in the middle of the aisle and stopped cold in his tracks.
She said something to him that I couldn’t hear. He shook his head with disdain, and she reiterated whatever her opening salvo had been. I stared pointedly at the open computer on my lap, trying to mind my own business but really, trying to catch a stray word or two. Finally, after a few moments of straining and adjusting to the whir of the plane motors, I overheard her.
“Come on, Finn,” she pleaded in a slightly louder voice, just loud enough for me to catch it. “A quick one.”
“No,” he shot back immediately. “Sod off.”
“For old time’s sake.” What was this girl on about?
“No,” Finn repeated, this time with more vehemence. “Quit it.”
Chrissy whined, “Why won’t you fuck me?”
Oh my sweet baby–
“Why can’t you accept ‘no’ as an answer?” he hissed.
He pushed past her, shoving her in the shoulder in the process, and flopped back down on the couch next to me, immediately picking up his book. I wanted to ask him what that had been about, but decided that it wasn’t meant for my ears, and I really did need to work on my nosiness.
For the rest of the flight, I kept one eye on Finn, and one eye on Chrissy, and wondered, with only a slight twinge of jealousy, what was going on between them. Did that mean I cared? No, it couldn’t. Definitely not.
We began our descent in the midafternoon.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” I whispered in awe.
Finn followed my gaze out the window, tearing his eyes away from his book for the first time. “‘Spose it is.”
“You’re not amazed?” I asked, shocked that anyone could look at this marvel of nature and not see how good the world was.
He shrugged, and whipped off his leather jacket, presumably to prep for the coming hot climes. In a short-sleeve collared shirt, his arms were toned but not jacked, and I could see one or two black-line tattoos. Silver necklaces that had been obscured by the jacket hung from his neck, going all the way beneath the collar of his shirt, which had at least three buttons undone. He looked like one of those Parisian boys, the ones who rolled their own cigarettes on the Seine at two in the morning.
Usually I went for a good ol’ fashioned cowboy, if I went for anyone, or a clean-pressed Georgia kid with ironed pants and big, open grin, but…
Let’s keep it that way, my mind insisted. No point falling for a guy like this, a cad who’d break your heart in two before giving you the time of day.
Duh. I had forgot myself, forgot my place in this fashion world. I was a nobody, and he was a somebody. Guys like that don’t look at girls like me. Or… do they?
Thankfully, my relentless internal monologue was interrupted by the sound and jarring bump of wheels touching ground. We’d landed on the island.
Chapter 9
FINN
WELL, THAT was the flight from fuckin’ hell.
First, Chrissy had accosted me, begged me to screw her in the bathroom. Couldn’t she take a damn hint? And then, when I said no, she’d kept her eyes on me the whole flight, like she was waiting for me to make a false move, anything she could exploit to her advantage. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom.
But, I’ll admit, the ride was slightly redeemed by the fact that I got to sit next to Poppy. Stealing glances at her is what kept me sane, if I’m being honest. When she wasn’t looking out the window with excitement, she was working on what I presume was a vlog post. She was hard at work with headphones and a notepad and with multiple tabs open on her screen, as though studying for a test. Her urgency, her thrill, made me remember that my job was more than just a job, to some people – it was a dream. I liked the world through her eyes. It was a better place.
Plus, it didn’t hurt that she looked beautiful in her outfit. It accentuated her ample chest. Though the fabric gave plenty of coverage, it molded perfectly to her body, clinging to her breasts for dear life. How I wished I were that dress, pressed to Poppy’s skin, breathing in her strawberry-vanilla scent.
Shit. How had this woman so firmly wormed her way into my head? It’s not like she gave a damn about me, she’d made that much clear. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I’d spent much of the previous night trying and failing not to dwell on the Greco-Roman lines of her body. These next few days were going to be hard – I’d need to practice serious restraint so that I didn’t end up just staring at her when I had work that needed doing. And then, I’d never been big on the whole ‘self-restraint’ thing. Though I didn’t mind ‘restraint’ in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.
Speaking of bedrooms:
We arrived at the villa around five. Villa, you say? Yeah – villa.
As we disembarked from the vehicle, I heard Poppy gasp, a wildly uncool, extremely endearing gasp, the flavor of which I never encountered in the fashion world.
The villa was up on a small bluff of sorts, only a mere quarter mile or so from the beach. It was massive, done in all white clay with sheer glass windows carved into intricate shapes. The thing appeared to be sprung straight out of the mountain face. Well, if you discount the unusual modernity of the accents. There was little grass in sight, but there were a series of dazzling palm trees that hung thickly overhead, providing some shade from the sun, which even at this time of day, was blistering. An infinity pool graced the edges of the lot. Its end looked to be plummeting over the edge of the cliff.
It was paradise.
The models sauntered on ahead, but Poppy’s feet were planted to the ground as she surveyed the building.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmured.
She nodded with great appreciation. “Oh, I think it’s just ‘bout the most wondrous thing I ever laid eyes on.”
I had to smile – her earnestness was breathtaking. She was talking about laying eyes, and I was thinking that everything looked renewed, fresh in those baby blues. She brought a perspective to the world that was… like she saw the good in all, and took nothing for granted.
Shit. Why was I talking like this about a girl I’d just met, especially one who openly disliked me? No, best not to give her the time of day. Then at least I could keep my dignity intact.
After Poppy’s momentary hesitation, we followed Bebe, Kareen and Chrissy into the villa, which appeared to be mostly open concept – the living room blended into the kitchen into the dining room.
They had already started unpacking, filling the fridges with their special foods and tossing their clothes over every available surface. I was no longer fazed by the way entitled people acted, but I did note Poppy raising an eyebrow in consternation.
Chrissy, who’d been divvying up her supplements, whirled around as we walked in.
“Oh good, you’re here,” she purred in my direction, apparently not dissuaded by my previous suggestion she fuck off. To Poppy, in a far less friendly tone, she added, “And you. I guess.”
So it was gonna be like that, huh?
I whispered to Poppy, who stood my side, “Pay her no mind.”
She looked momentarily shaken, but then straightened up her spine and replied, “I hadn’t planned to, thank you very much. I can watch after myself.”
“Of course you can–”
Chrissy cut me off. “Okay, chit chat later. The house has four bedrooms, but there are five of us, obviously because this trip wasn’t meant to have a fifth person.” She looked pointedly at Poppy, as though it were her fault for being assigned to come out here on a feature.
Poppy blushed and replied, “I know, sorry, I’m a last-minute addition. It’s my fault, so I can sleep on t
he couch or something.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Chrissy replied with a subtle arch glance in my direction. “I’ll share a bedroom with Finn.”
Like hell she would. I immediately fired back, “No, you won’t. Because I’m sharing a bedroom with Poppy. Can’t let her sleep on the couch, and I know all of you need your personal space, just like you need two airplane seats.”
Chrissy faltered. “What–”
“So that’s settled,” I finished, not waiting to hear any argument to the contrary.
“Fine. It’s settled. For now.” She paused, and shot an angry glare in Poppy’s direction, and I worried that I’d accidentally pulled Poppy into a conflict that was not hers. “Anyway, the girls and I are going to work out.”
Chrissy motioned to Bebe and Kareen, who gave Poppy and me little waves before falling in line with Chrissy, presumably to go suit up.
Poppy and I were alone in the room, which was a study in white and gold with green house plants for accents. She looked, in a word, pissed.
“We are certainly not sharing a bedroom,” she said with an almost manic laugh. “I don’t know who the heck you think I am, but it’s not that.”
In the subtle V of her dress, I could see her chest heaving with anger.
“Please, Poppy, you don’t understand–”
“I understand you think I’m immodest, think I’m just some girl you can con into your bed. Ain’t that right?”
As much as I wouldn’t mind having her in my bed, there were other issues at stake. Should I tell her? It’d mean exposing myself more than I had to anyone besides Janice in… well, a good long while. Was it worth it?
I decided to take the plunge. I mean, she already hated me, right? What the fuck did I have to lose?
“Poppy,” I began slowly, “I don’t want to sleep in Chrissy’s room because… because… ahem. Because she’s into hard drugs, and it’s very hard for me to be round by that, for reasons I’d rather not go into.”
Her face, which had been scrunched up with rage, suddenly opened, almost like a flower blooming out, her blue eyes widening and lips parting.
“Oh,” she murmured, and then louder, “oh, I’m so – I’m sorry, Finn, that’s not what I thought you were going to – never mind.”
“So would it be all right if we shared a room?” I asked. “Unless you’d rather I sleep downstairs. I’d prefer not to, because she’s liable to come out here and just, uh, pounce on me.”
She shook her head, and with some reluctance, said, “You can sleep in my room. I’m sorry Chrissy’s, err, living like that.”
“Yeah, me too,” I admitted.
Poppy appeared to remember herself and added, “But you’re not getting anywhere near my bed, you hear? I’m taking pity on you because it’s the right thing to do, but I’m not gonna let my guard down even an inch.”
“That seems–”
But she wasn’t done. “You may sleep in my room, if and only if you agree to wear an eye mask before I put on my nightwear, because they aren’t fit for mixed company. And… no funny business.”
“Agreed,” I replied, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. I stuck out my ring-covered hand, ready to shake just as any good gentleman’s deal requires. She looked at it with suspicion before at last relenting, and sliding her small fingers into my palm. We clasped hands, and a deal was struck. Her hand was warm and very soft, I wondered if I would be able to smell her scent of strawberry and vanilla on my hand later.
Her eyes held mine for a beat too long before at last tearing away.
“I have to vlog the house,” she explained.
I shrugged. “Okay.”
She looked at me meaningfully, but whatever she was trying to convey, I wasn’t getting it. “What?”
She rolled her eyes, then replied, “It’s embarrassing when people watch me vlog. It’s like putting on a li’l circus, but for folks who ain’t there.”
I smirked. “You’re suddenly getting bashful? That doesn’t seem like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Oh, I’d say I’m starting to pick up on some things,” I murmured. “Like, I know you always look at me for a little longer than you intend to.”
Her face colored and she stammered, “Get lost.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” I said, resigning myself to the couch. “I’ll be over here, reading my book, playing nice.”
She looked like she wanted to protest, to insist I leave the villa entirely, but we both knew that’d be unreasonable. After a frustrated, but rather adorable, little sigh, she pulled out her camera, tucked a curl behind her ear, and hit the ‘record’ button.
“Hey, lovelies,” she said with a dazzling smile, one that had lit up her face in a millisecond. “You won’t believe where I am.”
She waited a beat, trembling with excitement, before finishing, “The Caribbean! Now, ya’ll won’t believe this Cinderella story, so grab some popcorn and lemme tell you all ‘bout it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I preceded to watch Poppy joyfully recount how she’d come to be on the trip, savoring each detail like it was a small gemstone. Her face, usually closed and aloof in my presence, was open, carefree – happy. I realized, with a sudden start, that I wanted Poppy to look at me like that. Moreover, I wanted to be the sort of lad who earned a look like that from a girl like Poppy. Did that make sense? Oh, bollocks, I’m losing my words.
“Anyhow,” she said, finishing up her story. “I’m here for a whole week. In the middle of maybe the most beautiful place on earth! I couldn’t have done it without you folks. My heart is fit to burst, and I just wanna cry and laugh and shout happiness on high. I’ll keep you as updated as possible on all my magical adventures. Until next time!”
She blew a kiss to camera, and hit the ‘record’ button again, ending the recording. Even though her ‘audience’ was gone, a smile lingered on her lips.
I chuckled, and she immediately whipped her head in my direction. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “Were you listening to that?”
“No, no, of course not,” I lied. “Didn’t hear a peep.”
“You’re fibbing.”
“Maybe a little,” I allowed. “But can you blame me? I mean, Poppy, you’re damn luminous on camera.”
She bent her head down and stared purposefully at the ground. I suspect her Southern upbringing is what forced her to say, “Thank you.”
“The world through your eyes…” I began, trailing off. “It’s a good world.”
She lifted her chin up, and this time, looked me full in the eyes. And it was more than just her culture and good decorum at play when she again, in a quieter voice, said, “Thank you, Finn.”
Chapter 10
POPPY
WE ALL spent the rest of the afternoon taking care of assorted business. The models worked out and handled their social media, I worked on the feature and my latest vlog post and Finn… well, actually, Finn seemed to just lounge on the couch with his book, not much troubled by the stuff that kept us girls flitting around.
A part of me was jealous that he could just kick back and take in the island breeze that rushed through the diaphanous white curtains, filling the room with salty air, and a part of me didn’t mind the view of him in repose, a long, sinewy figure, with sharp edges and shadow-filled planes.
But that’s all it is, I reminded myself. A view. This ain’t the sort of man you can do more than look at. You make one step in his direction, and he’ll have his ringed fingers in you before the minute’s out.
The voice in my head was right – better to give him a wide berth than accidentally get pulled into his black Bermuda triangle.
Before long, it was time for bed. We’d all scrounged up our own dinners – the models had prepacked meals, Finn seemed to not touch a morsel, and I feasted on the variety of local foods that had been considerately left in the fridge for us. I was going to eat like a dang queen on this trip.
At last, tucker
ed out from a day of travel and work, I made my way upstairs and found the bedroom that was to be mine and Finn’s. I could do so without difficulty because he’d left his signature boots outside the door. That was a strange thing – he was a man who didn’t seem to care much about stuff like trekking in mud from outdoors. It was a small detail, but it touched me in an unexpected way. Perhaps Finn was not altogether what he seemed.
I strode into the room, and found Finn lazing on a chaise lounge, looking quite content, still absorbed in his novel.
“You read any more,” I said as I closed the door behind me, “and you won’t have any book left for the rest of this trip.”
He laughed. “Oh ho, lass, that’s where you’re wrong.”
Finn reached into his back pocket and brandished another book, one that I somehow hadn’t spotted all day, even though I’d taken one or two long glances at his backside. Please don’t tell anyone that.
“How many pockets you got left?” I asked, surprised at his Willy Wonka-like quantity of books.
He winked. “You’ll just have to find out.”
The words were innocuous, sure, but that tone was downright scandalous. I had to get out of the room before my body had any more visceral reactions to Finn’s rumbling brogue.
“Okay, I’m going to go change in the bathroom,” I announced. “When I say the word, you better pull that eye mask on, you hear?”
He raised a brow. “I don’t have an eye mask.”
Oh. Shoot. Hadn’t thought of that.
“Um… um, okay, not a problem,” I said, thinking on my feet. Then I had an idea. “Here, you can use this.”
I reached over to my bag, which some absent porter had carefully placed on a luggage rack, and rooted around before at last pulling out a silk scarf.
“Wrap this around your head,” I said cheerfully, holding the scarf in the air.
He licked his lips, eyes running the length of the colorful fabric. “So you want to tie me up, eh? Well, you won’t get a no from this boy.”
What?! “Wait, that’s not what I said, you’re–”
