The Honeymooner

by Melanie Summers

  Quentin,

  I've attached my full report. To summarize, I’ve deemed Paradise Bay All-Inclusive Resort not worth pursuing. The owner’s valuation of the property is unrealistically high, and he’s in no way willing to move off his position. At this time, it is my unequivocal recommendation that GlobalLux abandon the pursuit of acquiring this property.

  Regards,

  Libby

  P.S. Effective immediately, I quit.

  I stare at the email for a moment. “After this, I have no plan,” I say to the empty room.

  I do a quick body-scan before I hit send. No clammy hands. No heart palpitations. My throat doesn't feel like it's going to close up. Complete lack of dizziness, nausea, and lightheadedness. Lifting my hand to my upper lip, I find it dry.

  Huh.

  If I don't feel like I'm about to have a panic attack, that must be a good sign, right? Or am I completely numb because this is the worst idea I've ever had?

  I look down at the shell and run my fingertips along it. I am a butterfly, not a clam. I'm worth more than this job. I can do something better with my life — for example, staying here and trying to help turn things around so Paradise Bay Resort can stay exactly the way it is, only with one new person here to complete the puzzle.

  My hand hovers over the mouse, I take a deep breath, then click send. I have exactly 29 seconds after hitting that button to change my mind. I watch the timer count down and do nothing as it winds its way to zero. Then, I exhale — long, deep, and slow. When I’m done, I smile and stretch my arms out to the sides, feeling free for quite possibly the first time since I was a little girl.

  My phone rings, and I quickly pick it up. Thank God, it's Alice. I swipe the screen to answer.

  “You're not going to believe this, but I just quit my job.”

  “What?”

  “Crazy, right? Am I crazy? Don’t answer that, I already know,” I say, biting my thumbnail.

  Then I spill my guts, telling Alice everything that’s happened since we last talked. I tell her about Rosy and Fidel’s baby and the opossum and Butterfingers Girl, and about my night on Fantasy Island.

  When I get to the end of the story, I say, “I mean, none of this makes any sense. This has to be a rebound thing, doesn't it?” I pace the room, holding my mobile phone up to my ear.

  “Okay, hang on a second,” Alice says. “I'm just trying to wrap my head around a few of the details before I can help you sort this out. Are you sure you guys did it, like, seven times?”

  “Alice, seriously, I need your help here. I'm desperate.”

  “I actually wouldn’t call you even a little bit desperate if you got it seven times since yesterday afternoon. And that whole waterfall thing? That sounds like the kind of fantasy that could keep a girl going for the rest of her life.”

  “Yes, it was unbelievably perfect, but what if Harrison's wrong? What if I am exactly like my mum and I just threw away my entire life for some crazy, lust-filled relationship with someone I barely know?”

  “How old is he?” Alice asks.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Well, then you're fine. He’s older than you, so you’re not turning into your mother.”

  I groan. “Alice, I don’t think you get it. I am doing the most reckless thing I have ever done, and I have absolutely no desire to stop.”

  “Then don't. Where did being good and predictable get you, Libs? I mean, really?” she asks.

  I consider her question and find myself unable to come up with a defense for sticking with my old ways. “Good point.”

  “Do you think you might be in love with him?”

  I stop pacing and consider the question. The answer makes me sit down on the bed because my legs feel weak. “I think I might be. But it can't be real. I mean, I've known him for less than three weeks.”

  Alice makes a clicking sound with her tongue, then says, “There is such a thing as love at first sight, you know.”

  “No, there isn't. There's just lust at first sight, which I definitely have.”

  “So, that’s all you like about him? How he looks?”

  “No, there’s so much more to him than that. He’s just so generous and caring, and he’s so great with his staff and the guests…and tiny wild animals,” I say with a dreamy sigh. “And then there’s the way he smells, and the way he smiles, and how he looks at me like I'm the only woman who's ever lived. It's like…he just really wants to take care of me, you know? Like, really take care of me.”

  “Yeah, I got that when you said the part about doing it seven times,” Alice says. Then her voice drops. “Oh, shit. I just realized if you end up with this guy, I'm hardly ever going to see you.”

  “Exactly. Which is why this whole thing is insane. I just need to tell him my life is in Avonia and even though this has been amazing, I really can't stay.” I stand and start pacing again.

  “Did he ask you to stay?” Alice says.

  “Yeah, actually.” My entire body warms at the thought of his words and the feeling of being in his arms.

  “As much as I hate to say it, I think you need to stick around there for a while and see where this goes,” Alice says, sounding a little bit sad. “You owe it to yourself to see if he's the one. And based on everything you've told me about him, he sounds so perfect, I kind of hate you right now.”

  “I take it things still aren’t much better between you and Jack?”

  “You could say that. I don’t know, things are just… I think we’re just hitting a rough patch.”

  “How rough?” I ask, leaning on the desk in my room and letting worry set in.

  “I don't know. I mean, I'm sure it's totally normal, but he just seems really distracted lately. The other night, I woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't in bed. I went to go find him, and he was, umm, you know, at his computer, watching something.”

  I pull a face I’m glad she can’t see. “Oh, well, I suppose that's probably pretty normal, isn't it?” I ask, feeling one part worried for her and one part scared for me having to get any more details than I already know about them.

  “I'm sure it is. It's just that I've never known him to do that before, so it just really feels like he must be…I don't know…unhappy.”

  My heart squeezes at hearing Alice sounding so unsure of herself and her marriage. This isn’t like her at all. Here I’ve been so caught up in my own drama that I’ve completely missed the fact that my best friend is struggling.

  “Hey, you guys have a lot going on, you know? I mean, you barely ever get any sleep or have any time together alone. What if you leave the kids with your parents for a few nights and get away, just the two of you?”

  “Yeah, that's a good idea. I should suggest it,” Alice says, but her tone is not in the least bit convincing. “Oh crap, I have to run. Colby just started up the stairs with the toaster, and I think he's headed for the bathroom. I should not have let him watch that Bugs Bunny cartoon.”

  “Oh God. Yeah, go.”

  As Alice hangs up, I hear her shouting Colby's name.

  I toss my phone on the bed and sit for a minute, trying to digest my conversation with her. I’m aching for her, and part of me wonders if I’ve been wrong to try to find a perfect life that looks exactly like hers, because it turns out it isn’t so perfect after all. Maybe perfect doesn’t exist.

  If that’s the case, I might as well go for crazy happy, even if on the outside it just looks plain crazy.

  There's a knock at the door. Wow, that was quick. Harrison told me he wouldn’t be back for a few more hours. One of the resort’s trucks broke down, and he needed to go fix it.

  I hurry to the door, running my fingers through my hair to tame it and straightening out my dress a little. My entire body feels all warm and tingly as I grab the handle.

  I swing the door open with a h
uge smile on my face, planning to yank him inside and have my way with him.

  But it's not Harrison standing there grinning down at me.

  It's Richard.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Look Who’s Making Plans Now

  Harrison

  I thought you should be the first to know that I'm completely in love. Well, I suppose Libby should probably have been the first person to know, but somehow telling her is far scarier. I've only been apart from her for three hours, and it feels like three months, which I'm guessing is a good sign. I have to guess because I’ve never felt this way before. I want to know everything about her, I want to hear her laugh and listen to her talk, and for the first time in my life, I can imagine why people want to have children. Because with her, having a family would be like a dream come true.

  But before I can rush off and tell her how I feel, I need to get the oil leak on this truck fixed. I gave my mechanic, Charlie, today and tomorrow off so he could enjoy a long weekend with his family, and pretty much as soon as he left last night, oil started spewing all over the ground from this pickup. I’m currently in the non-airconditioned resort garage, lying on a creeper under the truck with oil, grease, and sweat covering my face. Luckily, I found the source of the problem pretty fast, but fixing it has been a real pain the arse. It’s taken me forty minutes to replace the cracked oil pan, but that’s okay, because Libby is busy finishing up her report.

  To be completely honest with you — and this is not something I would ever tell Rosy or Will or Emma — there is a tiny part of me willing to sign the deal with GlobalLux so I can have her here for a few extra months. I know that sounds very selfish, and I promise I would only consider it if it was actually the best thing for my staff. Well, and for Libby and me.

  That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Libby and me. Oh, shit. Now I sound like a lovesick teenage girl. I might as well throw on some bubble gum lip gloss and write Mr. and Mrs. Harrison and Libby Banks all over the inside of my Physics binder.

  Footsteps interrupt my thoughts, and it doesn’t take long for me to figure out who they belong to.

  “And where exactly have you been?” Rosy asks.

  I slide out from under the pickup. “Right here fixing this truck,” I say, holding up my wrench. “Did you need me for something?”

  “Don’t try to be cute with me. That stopped working when you were twenty. I meant where were you last night and all morning, and you know it,” she says, staring down at me from her arms-under-her-boobs stance.

  “Trying to save the resort,” I say, then disappear under the truck, where it’s safe.

  “You went off with Libby in a speedboat and didn’t come back for almost twenty-four hours.”

  “If you knew that, why did you ask?”

  “It’s more dramatic this way.”

  I shake my head and smile at her answer. “I have a plan, Rosy, and if it works, we might be in good shape for a very long time.”

  Another set of feet appear next to Rosy’s, and when I look over, I can see they belong to my sister, who's wearing pink flip-flops that show off her cupcake ankle tattoo.

  “You found him?” Emma asks.

  “Yes, but he's being awfully vague about what's going on. Maybe you can talk some sense into him,” Rosy says. “I need to go home and see my husband for a change.” With that, she walks away muttering to herself about learning not to bother.

  I finish tightening the last bolt and slide out from under the truck. When I stand, Emma's giving me a dirty look.

  “What's up your butt?” I ask as I place the tools back in the box and close the lid.

  “It was my first night back in how many months, and you just disappear,” Emma says, planting a fist on her hip.

  “Sorry about that. I thought I’d be back before dark. But I swear it was for the good of the resort.” I wipe the sweat off my face with a clean rag, then peel off my coveralls.

  “What’s that mean? Where’d you go?”

  “I took Libby out to look at a potential expansion site, then we got stuck in that big storm and had to stay the night there.” I look her straight in the eye, hoping she can't tell there's more to the story, because the last thing I need right now is for her to tell Wikileaks before I know for sure what Libby’s planning to do with the rest of her life.

  Obviously, my poker face isn’t as good as I hoped, because Emma’s grinning and covering her mouth with both hands. “Oh my God! You love her!”

  “It's strictly business, Emma.” Getting busy business…

  “Ummhmm.” Emma raises one eyebrow.

  “Strictly business.” I nod to confirm my answer.

  “Ha, well, that's really interesting, because ‘strictly business’ seems to have left a hickey on your neck.”

  I reach up, blushing a little and wincing as Emma laughs. “Please do not mention this to anyone, especially not to Rosy.”

  “On one condition,” she says, folding her arms and reminding me of her bratty self at fourteen.

  I roll my eyes. “What?”

  “You admit you have feelings for her.”

  “I have feelings about lots of people,” I say, starting toward the open overhead door. “Like you — I feel like you’re the most irritating sister on the planet.”

  “Oh, stop trying to deny it. Everybody can tell you like her.”

  “What do you know? You’ve only been back for a day, and you’ve seen me have a two-minute conversation with her, if that.”

  “Yeah, but as soon as she got that yucky nose bleed, you were all, ‘here, baby, let me swoop in and save you.’”

  “God, you’re such a child,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Takes one to know one,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, well…you’re the one sporting the hickey!”

  “It’s not a hickey. I must have walked into something.”

  “Libby’s lips, perhaps?” she says with a huge grin. Jumping up and down, Emma claps her hands. “You’re finally going to get married!”

  “Am not,” I say. “And why the hell are you so excited about the thought of me getting married, anyway?”

  “Because once you have a wife, you’ll be too distracted to nag me all the time.”

  “Oh, how wrong you are, little one. When I find a wife, I’ll make sure she’s willing to help me nag you. Now, I’m kind of in a hurry, so if you could lock up the garage for me, I’d appreciate it.”

  “You’re going to see her, aren’t you? For more smoochie woochies,” Emma calls after me.

  I wave her comment off and get in my golf cart, then take off before she can say anything more.

  The entire ride back to my villa, I think about what I'm going to say and how I'm going to say it when I see Libby. Every nerve ending tingles with excitement as I plan out our evening together. Last night was incredible, but tonight I’m really going to sweep her off her feet. I’ll swing by the lobby and get the keys to the royal honeymoon suite, then order champagne and a four-course dinner served on the terrace. We’ll go for a midnight dip in the private infinity pool and make love until morning.

  And if there’s any justice in this world, Libby Dewitt and I will have a very happy ending.

  ***

  Text from Will: Bro, Emma’s on her way home. I meant to text you a couple of days ago, but I got busy (with a super-hot chick, haha). #goodluck

  TWENTY-TWO

  Trouble in Paradise (Bay) (Sorry, I had to do it)

  Libby

  “Richard?! What are you doing here?” I say as soon as I recover from the shock.

  Richard’s face is filled with emotion as he stares down at me. His silver hard-sided suitcase stands at attention at his side, and he's dressed in his resort-wear — a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some tan linen pants with boat shoes.

  Sweeping his left arm out from behind his back, he rev
eals an enormous bouquet of tropical flowers. “I came to beg you to take me back.”

  My entire body freezes up with shock, and all I can think about is, what if Harrison comes by right now? I can't imagine anything worse at this moment.

  Except Richard kissing me, which it appears as though he's about to do because he's leaning in and he's closed his eyes…

  A gush of liquid builds up in my nose. Oh, thank God. I've never been so relieved to have a nosebleed as I am at this moment. It allows me to avoid kissing him and taking the flowers, which, for some reason, feels disloyal. And I know that probably seems insane since Richard has been my boyfriend for six years and Harrison for about twenty-six hours (is he even a boyfriend? I suppose not, right? Still…after everything we did and said to each other, whatever we are, it isn’t nothing).

  I hurry to the bathroom with my hand under my nose, leaving the door open behind me. I grab a wad of toilet paper and stand in front of the sink.

  “Oh, sweetheart, this is all my fault, isn’t it? I've done nothing but feel absolutely sick since you left. I tried to tell myself that I should just stay away after how I hurt you, but I couldn't. As soon as I realized you were really gone, I knew I’d made a horrible mistake. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but I vow to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He rubs my back and stares at me with a forlorn expression that almost makes me want to laugh out loud.

  My only answer is a slight nod.

  “Here, let me get you more toilet paper.” He dashes across the bathroom and takes the entire roll off the toilet paper holder. Ripping off a long section, he holds it up to me with one hand and simultaneously crouches sideways to grab the garbage can and hold that up with his other. “Ready for a change?” he asks earnestly.

  I just may be…

  I have to say this is the most attention Richard has ever given me over a nosebleed, and ironically, this is the one time I really want some time alone because all the synapses in my brain are firing at once and I feel like my head is going to explode. Honestly, I’m kicking myself for not having come up with a ‘just in case Richard shows up’ plan, but I suppose I was too busy sleeping with Harrison, then trying to figure out how to save the resort to bother to do that.