by James, Avery
“Is that so?” Maggie asked. “Maybe she’s just waiting for some sign that you’re not as bad as you pretend to be.”
Harry shook his head. “Bad boy appeal,” he said. “The ladies can’t help themselves.”
“So she’s one of many?” Maggie asked. She took her drink and sipped while she waited for his response.
“One of a kind,” Harry said. “Of course, she doesn’t see that.” He smiled. “Can I be serious for a moment?” he asked.
“I doubt it,” she said. The band was playing louder now, and she had to lean in to hear what he said next. People were getting up from their seats and dancing to the music. Maggie watched them as she listened to Harry.
“I’ve had a lot of girlfriends,” he said. “I’ve been with women who brought out the worst in me. I brought out the worst in them too. I’ve been in good relationships and bad relationships, and I spent a long time figuring out who I am, but I like who I am around you. I like everything about you, and I like what you bring out in me.”
“Why are we here?” she asked.
“To listen to a friend’s band, to dance, to enjoy ourselves,” he said.
“I mean the island. Why did you bring me here? If you wanted one last chance to be yourself, why bring me? Why not flirt with pretty women and spend money left and right without worrying about what I think?”
“I want to worry about what you think,” Harry said. “Like I said, I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life. Spending more time with you is not a bad decision. In a week, I’ll be someone else. I’ll be whoever my father and your company make me out to be, but right now, I’m me, and you’re you, and I’d really like to dance.”
“Then let’s dance,” Maggie said.
They danced. Hands on hips. They danced fast and slow, keeping with the rhythms of the songs the band played. Harry was a natural, and he made Maggie feel like a natural. It was effortless to move with him, like they’d been dancing together for their entire lives. The more they danced, the more Maggie noticed the little things, like how she liked the feeling of Harry’s hands against her or how the hollow of his throat looked against his unbuttoned collar.
After they had worked up a sweat, they went back to the table and finished their drinks. They ate. They drank some more. They listened to the music and argued about who had really made the first move on the beach when they had met. Even with the music and the crowd, Maggie felt like they were the only two people in the room. Every time she looked up, her eyes locked on his. Every time she smiled, he smiled back. She felt dizzy with excitement, and she wanted the feeling to last for as long as possible. Maybe this was why she had agreed to go along to Cuba. Maybe it wasn’t the job after all. Maybe she wanted more of this feeling, this giddy excitement she could barely define.
She got up and pulled Harry back onto the dance floor. There were mostly couples around them dancing, and Harry held her close. They danced chest to chest, cheek to cheek. She could smell the alluring musk of his cologne, and she could feel the heat of his breath. She wanted to turn and kiss him. She wanted to taste his lips again. She met his lips for a moment, just long enough to feel a rush of excitement before he pulled back from the kiss.
“We should go back to the hotel,” he said as the band finished a song and started a break. Hours had passed since they had arrived, and Maggie had loved every moment dancing with Harry. She didn’t hesitate a moment in agreeing with him, though. She wanted a chance to be alone with him, and she was going to take it as soon as possible. Harry signaled to Ramon, and said goodbye to Ramon’s family.
One week, Maggie reminded herself. You have one week to see if this is really something. Why waste a single minute? The ride back to the hotel was excruciating. It felt like forever until they were back in the hotel room alone. As soon as the door was shut, Maggie grabbed Harry’s hands and pulled herself against him, pressing her chest against his as they kissed. Hands on his side and his back. Tongue and breath and warmth. She wanted him. She wasn’t going to regret this. She was going to make this count.
She tugged at his buttons as he ran his fingers through her hair. He kissed her neck and her cheek and met her lips again. She nibbled on his lip as he deepened their kiss. She had no doubt. She wanted this. They tumbled across the room as their kissing grew more passionate. Desire flared up inside her, and Maggie had a good idea of what was about to happen next.
Harry placed his hands on her shoulders and broke from the kiss, smiling at her as she bit her lower lip. “We should call it a night,” he said.
“A night?” she asked. She wondered if he meant he wanted to take her to bed. Maybe that was rushing things a bit, but she didn’t mind a little bit of rushing.
He kept his hands on her shoulders. “What is it we’re doing? Every time we’ve kissed, we’ve been tipsy. Then, the next day, you’ve regretted it. Or at least you’ve acted like you regretted it. I’m not looking to take advantage of you, and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. If you want to kiss me in the morning, I’m all yours. If you want to kiss me tomorrow night, I can’t wait, but this is more to me than just some fling. You’re not some conquest, and I’m not going to jeopardize what we have together just because you smell like lilacs, and your lips are incredible. I want to, but I can’t.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Maggie.”
Maggie leaned against the window as Harry left the room. Goodnight. Honorable. Sweet. Infuriating. He’d been chasing her since the moment they’d met, and now that she’d decided she was willing to be with him too, he decided to be honorable? Why on earth would he do that? It didn’t make any sense to her. He knows as well as I do what happens after this week. He knows that what we have can’t go beyond this trip, and yet he’s throwing away an entire night?
Maggie sighed and resigned herself to the fact that nothing was going to happen that night. She decided to brush her teeth, wash her face and go to sleep. Of course, she had no idea where to find a toothbrush. She’d left hers in Key West, figuring that she was heading home. Harry had said he had an extra, but where? She looked for a toiletry bag, but found nothing. Maybe it was in his bag. She headed over to his bag and picked it up off the floor.
It was heavier than she had expected, and she wondered how he could possibly have so much clothing in one bag. She put the bag on her bed and zipped it open. The moment she tried to feel inside the bag, she knew she’d made a mistake. She wrapped her hand around something that was distinctly not clothing and pulled it out of the bag. Money. A stack of hundred-euro notes.
Maggie clicked on the light and looked in the bag again. It was full of cash, stack after stack of euros and dollars. There had to have been at least a few hundred thousand dollars in the bag. Suddenly, a toothbrush was the last thing on her mind. She put the money back in the bag and put the bag back where she’d found it. She could only think of one reason why Harry would have this much cash, and it wasn’t good.
Chapter 8
The next morning, Maggie was too distracted by the money to even think about her kiss with Harry. He was hiding money, a lot of it, and he was traveling in a country with hostile relations with the US. It wouldn’t take much for him to disappear. He could hop on a plane and be half a world away before anyone even caught on. Sure, he wouldn’t have billions, and he wouldn’t get everything that would come with running his father’s company, but he’d be free. He’d be able to do whatever he wanted. And a few hundred thousand dollars could go a long way in much of the world.
The door to Harry’s room was still shut, and Maggie didn’t want to wake him, so she decided to slip outside and head down to the desk to make a call. She needed advice. She needed to talk things through. She went up to the front desk. “I need to make a call back to the US, and I have no idea how to do so,” she said.
“Of course,” the concierge said. “The charge will be added to your room bill. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes,” Maggie said.
The conc
ierge led her to a back office and slid a phone across the desk. “There was a time when this was much more difficult. Dial 011, your country code and the number.”
“Thank you,” Maggie said.
“Just place the phone back when you’re finished,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else.” There was a tenderness in his voice, like he could tell she was upset. She wondered if it showed. She assured herself that she was just reading too much into his professionalism.
She placed the call and stared at the stone tiles on the floor as she listened to the call ring. “Hey, Dad,” she finally said when she heard a voice on the other end of the line. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“For my daughter?” he said. “I have at least two.”
Maggie laughed. “Guess where I am today,” she said.
“Something tells me it’s not Washington. The caller ID didn’t recognize the number.”
“Cuba,” she said.
“Why in the world are you in Cuba? Did you take a wrong turn at Key West? Did one of the Castros accidentally come out in favor of capitalism? If anyone could walk that back, it’s you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but no, it’s not like that. My current assignment brought me here, but I have a question for you,” she said.
“What is it?” her father asked. “You know how much dads like helping their kids.”
“That’s part of the problem. I’m working for a client who is trying to make his son grow up and take over the family company.”
“And the son doesn’t want to? Instead he wants rum and beaches? And so you’re down there to bring him back?”
“I don’t know what he wants,” Maggie said, “but I’m not sure I should be the one deciding for him. I’m just afraid he’s going to make a big mistake.”
“And it could hurt you?” her father asked.
More than you know, she thought. She realized he probably meant it could hurt her professionally. “It’s not like that,” she said. “I like him, and I don’t want to ruin his life, but I don’t want to sit back and watch him throw it away either.” She wondered if she should just ask outright if she should tell her work about the stash of money.
“Some people need a little guidance, Maggie. Other people need a little support. Some just need to do their thing.”
That doesn’t help, she thought.
“So your professional responsibility is getting tangled up in your personal relationship with this client?”
“Something like that,” she said.
“Just look out for yourself, honey. I know you’re grown-up and that you can take care of yourself, but don’t put yourself at risk just because you want to help someone else.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said. He was right. She had to call the office and tell them about the money. It was her only way of protecting herself if he did run. “I have to go,” she added. “Love you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
After she ended the call, she picked the phone back up and called the office. Abby answered. “Haven Communications,” she said, “this is Abby.”
“It’s me,” Maggie said.
“Oh, thank God. I was starting to think we’d have to send a rescue team to get you. How are things going with Dreamy?”
“I’m fine,” Maggie said. “Please don’t call him that. We need to go over a few things.” She had Abby write down the registration number of the jet and caught her up on everything that had happened, leaving out the bit about kissing Harry but including the part about finding a large sum of money. She downplayed just how much money there was. Half a million seemed like a sure tip-off that he was running, except she wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want Abby jumping to conclusions. Maybe he had legitimate reasons. Maybe he was opening an orphanage, or maybe he always carried around a fortune in a duffel bag. “He has a lot of money,” she finally said.
“A two-billion-dollar inheritance,” Abby said.
“I meant the cash he has on hand,” Maggie replied. She could tell Abby wasn’t taking this seriously. Maybe if she told her the real amount, Abby would understand. But then she’d tell Amy, and Maggie would have to confront Harry. It felt like she was betraying his trust. He’s hiding half a million dollars from you, she reminded herself.
“Maybe he’s planning on doing some more gambling,” Abby said. “Or maybe he’s planning on going all out to romance you.”
“There haven’t been casinos here in fifty years,” Maggie replied. “And as for the other thing, no. You know I can’t.”
“Neither could Amy or Callie, and look at them. They’re happily married.”
“This is different,” Maggie said. “For one, I’m not part-owner of the company. For another, he’s about to get engaged. It’s my job to make sure he gets engaged.”
“I’m just saying, what happens in Cuba…”
“Has direct consequences on the rest of my life,” Maggie said.
Abby laughed. “Fine. He is easy on the eyes, though.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Maggie said. Easy on the eyes and sweet on the lips. It was a dangerous combination. “Can you keep the money stuff to yourself? I don’t want to worry Amy or pull Harry’s father into the middle of this.” She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “I’ve got him under control,” she lied. “A few days of running around this island and he’ll be ready to come back. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to call again.”
“I can’t tell you what I’d give to be in your position right now,” Abby said. “Amy has us all working eighteen-hour days until this scandal on the Hill blows over. The rumor going around the office is that she hasn’t slept in three days.”
“What is going on, anyway?” Maggie asked.
“I’m under strict orders not to worry you with it,” Abby said.
“You’re kidding,” Maggie said.
“Nope, it’s great incentive to get you back here. You’d have a field day with this one.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?” Maggie said.
“Not until you give me all the details about what’s actually going on between you and the swoon-worthy man you ran off with,” Abby said. “See? It works both ways.”
“Goodbye, Abby,” Maggie said.
“That’s what I thought,” Abby replied. “See you soon. If you do run off for good, I’m taking your stuff.”
“If I’m not back next week, you can have everything,” Maggie said. “Actually, can you confirm for me that he doesn’t have any more surprise flights in the works?” she asked.
“Give me a minute and I’ll find out,” Abby said. A few moments later, she was able to allay Maggie’s concern. “No flight plans yet, but keep your eyes open. We need Gavin Howard back in one piece.”
“I’ll do my best,” Maggie said.
“Enjoy yourself,” Abby said. “Most assignments aren’t this exciting, or this handsome.”
Maggie laughed. “Like I said, I’ll do my best. I’ll call you back as soon as I know more. Good luck with the Hill,” she said before hanging up. Depending on what Harry had planned, she might need better than her best. She slid the phone back across to its original location and gave the concierge a wave as she headed back across the lobby.
She had a balancing act ahead of her. First she had to keep Harry from doing anything stupid enough to cost her her job, like running off. Next she had to keep herself from doing anything stupid enough to cost her her job, like acting on her feelings for Harry. When she made her way into the room, she noticed that the door to Harry’s bedroom was open.
So he’s awake, she thought. She hadn’t seen him since he’d pulled away from their kiss the night before. The kiss. She’d spent so much time thinking about the money that she hadn’t given any thought to what she’d say about that kiss. Harry had been clear that he wasn’t going to let their relationship subsist solely upon drunken flirtation. That had to mean he wanted something more, right? Maybe it was best to head things
off at the pass.
“So about last night…” she said. She listened for a response, but heard nothing. “Maybe you were right,” she continued. “We would have regretted it. I don’t know, I’m just really confused by my feelings for you, and I’m not sure what to do.”
There was no response. Is he even listening? she wondered. She walked into the bedroom, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the bathroom or anywhere. She felt hollow, like she’d fall over and shatter into a thousand pieces. He was gone. No, she thought. No no no. She raced over to his bag and reached inside, frantically feeling around. The money was gone. So were half of his clothes. She dumped the rest of the contents onto the ground. Clothes, toiletries, passport. His passport. So he’s not leaving the country.
She had to think. She had to make a plan. If Harry wasn’t leaving the country, where would he go? And why would he bring her all the way to Cuba just to ditch her? None of it made sense. Her train of thought was broken by a knock at the door. She scrambled to shove all of Harry’s things back inside his bag and jumped up to get the door. Maybe Harry had gone looking for her and gotten locked out, or maybe it was Ramon. She pulled the door open without looking.
Room service. A man was standing with a cart with two trays on top. He pushed inside and placed the trays on the table. “Good morning, Mrs. Howard,” the man said. “Your husband wished for us to tell you that he would return soon.” The man looked at Maggie and put his hand in his pocket.
Husband? Maggie though. She’d have to let that one slide for now. “Thank you,” she said. She searched in her own pockets for tip money. Did people tip in Cuba? She didn’t know. If only the money were still in the bag, she’d be able to give the man the largest tip he’d ever receive. She went back to her own suitcase and started to look for change. Her bag was half-empty too.
The man waved her off. “Your husband took care of all of it,” he said. He pulled a note out of his pocket and handed it to Maggie. “He asked me to give you this, though. Good day, and please let us know if you need anything.” Without another word, he was gone, and she was alone again. The note said simply, “Last night gave me an idea. Let me know if I forgot to pack anything you need for a few days. I’ll tell you the rest when I get back.” Back from where? Maggie wondered. And when?
