Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2)

by Lacey London

  Fighting the urge to do a James Bond roll out of the car and a Baywatch run down the beach, I drain my glass in one swift gulp. Before I can stop it, I let out a tiny squeal as our car pulls up at a beautiful ornate archway. Peering up through the thick trees, I spot a teeny monkey dangling from the pillar.

  ‘Oliver! Look up there! Quick, get your camera!’ I clap my hands together happily as he snaps away with his phone.

  Purring through the hotel grounds, I take in the stunning greenery and winding sand pathways, each one leading to a different restaurant, luxury spa or beach bar. If there was ever a Disney land for adults, this was most definitely it and I was beyond ready to see the Cinderella Castle.

  Chapter 7

  ‘Well? What do you wanna do first?’ Oliver slips his arms around my waist and nuzzles his face into my neck.

  ‘Not that!’ I push him away gently and make a run for the balcony, not wanting to waste a minute of sunshine.

  With Oliver running after me, I try not to slip on the sparkling quartz tiles. The three glasses of champagne on the drive here are beginning to work their magic. Throwing open the double French doors, I flop down onto the huge, plush lounger and look out at the miles of golden sand. Watching the water crash softly against the shore, I can almost taste the salt on my lips. How is this on the same planet as cold, dreary England? As amazing as our suite is, there is only one place I want to be.

  ‘I want to get in there!’ I announce suddenly, jumping to my feet.

  A frisson of excitement tingles down my spine as I run across the room. Throwing my case down onto the enormous bed, I create a tornado of beach towels and sarongs in the search for my swimsuit.

  ‘Aren’t you tired?’ Oliver laughs and tosses a pair of fringed sandals back into my case.

  ‘Hell no!’ I retort, wiggling into my costume like a fish out of water.

  I drop a couple of books into my ever so pretty beach bag and fasten the buckles on my new Biba sandals, smiling appreciatively at the beautiful shoes. Once I have twisted my frizzy locks into a messy plait, I tie a mosquito band around my wrist and look at Oliver expectantly.

  ‘All ready?’ I ask, grabbing the sleek, white room key like a hyper toddler.

  Oliver slips on his Ray Bans and I pretend not to notice as he checks himself out in the mirror. With a quick ruffle of his curls, he tugs a Ralph Lauren polo shirt over his head and makes for the door.

  ‘You betcha.’

  ‘Oh my God, I could get used to this.’ I take a sip of margarita and lean back in my lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun baking my skin.

  I am on my second cocktail and the tequila is giving me a lovely fuzzy sensation in my stomach. The beach is practically empty. Apart from the odd couple getting rather amorous in the sea, we are pretty much alone. I roll over onto my stomach and feel around on the sand for the sun cream. Drenching my legs in factor 15, I catch Oliver shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.

  ‘What?’ I ask, rubbing the shiny lotion into my skin.

  ‘You’re going to burn.’ He throws me a bottle of thick, chalky cream.

  I stare at the factor 50 with revulsion. ‘No chance. I am going home bronzed if it kills me.’

  ‘Well, if you use that, it just might.’

  Carrying on regardless, I take a quick snap of my glistening hot dog legs on my phone and send it to Lianna. Why do you get so much pleasure from knowing someone is turning green with envy? Popping my phone back into my beach bag, I drain my glass and roll off the lounger.

  ‘Fancy a dip?’ I ask, not waiting for an answer as I run towards the sea.

  Despite my head start, Oliver soon catches up to me and dives head first into the water. I watch him splashing around and enjoy the waves washing over my feet. We might have only been here for a few hours, but I already feel sad at the thought of having to leave. I am about to wade in when a flash of silver catches my attention. Taking a few steps forward, I notice that we are surrounded by stunning, metallic fish.

  Lifting my sunnies to get a closer look, I am shocked to see that there are hundreds of them. Not knowing quite how I feel about being mad dogged by a shoal of tropical fish, I decide to go back to the safety of my lounger when the world biggest wave knocks me off my feet. Flailing around trying to regain my balance, my heart almost stops when I feel a flapping between my legs. I attempt to scream, but succeed only in swallowing a mouthful of salty sea water. Just as I am convinced that I am going to die, I am lifted out of the water and dropped down in a heap on the sand.

  ‘What the hell just happened? Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim?’ Oliver moves my hair off my face and smiles sympathetically.

  Coughing and spluttering, I try to find my voice. ‘Of course I can swim! It was the fish!’

  ‘What about the fish?’ He stares at me incredulously.

  ‘I just didn’t know they would be there.’ I push myself to my feet and readjust my swimsuit to avoid an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.

  ‘Wait a minute. You didn’t know there are fish in the sea?’ He laughs loudly and I try not to be offended.

  Suddenly feeling rather stupid, I brush myself down and slip on my sunglasses. Spotting the beach waiter carrying a tray of yummy looking cocktails, I decide there is only one thing for it.

  ‘Another margarita?’

  Chapter 8

  By the time the sun goes down, we have drank our weight in tequila, got acquainted with the fish (sort of) and booked dinner reservations for Gee Gee’s, a dainty restaurant on the sea front. After a tour of the many, many beach bars, we tumble back into our room and collapse onto the bed in a ball of laughter. Pulling off his shirt, Oliver flicks on the TV and stretches out onto the soft sheets.

  ‘How about we forget the reservation and call for room service?’ He sinks down into the feather pillows and lets out a big yawn.

  ‘No chance, Mr!’ I peel off my damp swimsuit and toss it on the floor. ‘You’ve got one hour.’

  Fuelled by alcohol, I make my way into the bathroom and jump into the ridiculous double shower, marvelling at the many mini toiletries. As the water pummels into my back, I wince at the sting. Ouch. Maybe I have caught the sun a little. Once I have washed the sand and seaweed out of my hair and gave my face a good steam, I wrap myself in a teeny towel and wipe the condensation from the mirror.

  ‘Um, Oliver?’ I shout, peering at my red or rather purple reflection.

  ‘What is it?’ His voice sounds sleepy and I pray to God that he hasn’t fallen asleep.

  ‘Could you please bring me the aloe vera?’ Convincing myself that it is just the bad lighting, I grab a hand mirror and shuffle out onto the balcony.

  OK, so it definitely is not the lighting. Not wanting to get a big ‘I told you so’ from Oliver, I try sneaking back into the bedroom without him noticing.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Clara!’ Oliver stops me dead in my tracks and I spin around to face him.

  ‘It’s not that bad.’ I insist, trying to play it down. ‘And anyway, I always go red before I go brown.’ Taking the aloe vera from him, I stomp into the bedroom and slam the door.

  ‘That’s gonna hurt in the morning.’ Oliver’s voice comes through the wall and I choose to ignore him.

  After using almost the entire tub, I whack up the air conditioning in the hope that the cold air will reduce the redness. Slipping on a simple, royal blue maxi dress, I apply the teeniest amount of mascara and lip gloss, before finishing with a quick spray of DKNY. Not having to wear a full face of make-up is one of the best things about a beach holiday. Foundation and eye liner do not mix well with thirty degree heat. I first discovered this on a girls break to Ibiza with Lianna, when three hours worth of make-up melted in less than five minutes, leaving us more Freddie Kruger than Holly Valance.

  In all of today’s excitement, I have totally forgotten why we are out here - the big meet the parents. I don’t really know much about Oliver’s parents. All he has said is that his mother, Janie works at an
estate agent and his father, Randy is a used car salesman. I am actually really looking forward to meeting them. I have five whole days of spa treatments and lunches booked to win over his mum and I am sure his dad will be easy enough to impress. Right now, however, my sole concern is a romantic sea front meal with my very handsome boyfriend.

  ‘Are you ready?’ I yell, poking my head into the living area, half expecting him to be snoring.

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Oliver holds open the door and ushers me out into the hallway.

  ‘I thought we could try the Martini Lounge first, is that OK?’

  ‘It most certainly is.’

  Two espresso Martinis and a delicious mahi mahi appetiser later, I am patiently waiting for my main course when Oliver first brings it up.

  ‘Just so you know, my mom can be a bit of a handful.’ He laughs and dips a nacho into the mound of guacamole.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, trying not to give in to the nachos.

  ‘She’s just not the stereotypical, cookie cutter mom, that’s all.’ Oliver’s eyes crease into a smile and I try to not to be too concerned. ‘Don’t be worried.’

  Not quite knowing how to respond, I sip my drink quietly. The momentum of today’s activities is beginning to dawn on me and I am feeling rather sleepy.

  ‘Hola!’ Brenda, our very happy waitress presents us with our meals, along with the obligatory shot of tequila.

  As Oliver talks animatedly with the waitress, I can’t help but wonder what he meant about his mum. Not having the energy to delve into the subject right now, I decide to push it to the back of my mind. Anyway, there’s no point worrying about it now. Monster in law or not, she will be here in forty eight hours and there isn’t anything I can do about it.

  ‘To us.’ Oliver’s voice snaps me out of my daydream.

  Holding up the glittery, gold liquid, he gives me gives me a little wink and motions to my shot glass.

  ‘Haven’t we had enough tequila for one day?’ I ask, picking it up reluctantly.

  ‘We’re in Mexico! You can never have too much tequila in Mexico.’

  We happily clink our glasses together and I down it in one, spluttering as Oliver chokes at the industrial strength alcohol.

  ‘Oh, I thought you could never have too much tequila?’ I tease and tuck into my enchiladas.

  He stares at me for a moment and takes a sip of water. ‘How amazing is this?’

  ‘The enchiladas? Really amazing.’ I nod in approval and take another huge mouthful.

  ‘I’m not talking about the enchiladas.’ Oliver takes my hand in his. ‘I’m talking about this.’ He motions to the beach.

  Putting down my fork, I have a look around and for the first time that night, really take in my surroundings. Tucked away in a quiet corner of the restaurant, we are totally secluded from the rest of the guests. A tiny, flickering candle in the centre of the table provides the only light and the gentle sound of the waves lapping softly against the shore makes me feel a million miles from home. I try to take a mental photograph. In just a matter of days, this will all be a mere memory.

  ‘Pretty amazing and this is only day one. We have many more to fill with sun, sea and sand.’ Not being able to reach him over the table, I blow him a kiss and turn my attention back to my food.

  ‘Sun, sea and sand?’ Oliver’s eyes glint wickedly as he picks up his glass. ‘You sure about that last one?’

  6.39pm

  To: claraandrews001@firemail.co.uk

  From: mstroker@suave.net

  Subject: Madison In The City!

  Madison had her first taste of London today!

  She also had her first taste of Cow and Gate.

  (Gina almost got thrown out of Fairway for breastfeeding in the cocktail lounge, but I’ll fill you in on that later.)

  Anyway, check out the photos!

  Marc Stroker

  General Manager

  Suave Enterprises

  Chapter 9

  Opening your eyes to glorious, bright sunshine is a wonderful feeling. Rolling over and discovering your boyfriend is missing, is not. Stretching out my legs, I notice how tight and sore my skin feels. Stupid factor 15. I hate it when Oliver is right. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I force myself to get up from my lovely Egyptian cotton fort. Padding around our suite in search of Oliver, I become a little concerned when I realise that he isn’t here.

  Grabbing my mobile from the bedside table, I am about to hit speed dial when I notice a text message flashing on the screen.

  My parents flew in early. Didn’t wanna wake you. Gone down to the beach. Call me when you’re up. Xx

  His parents are here? They’re here now? Tapping out his number, I listen to the strange dial tone for what seems like an eternity until he finally answers.

  ‘Hey! You’re up!’

  ‘I am.’ I can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice.

  ‘Did you get my text? Are you coming down to join us?’

  After confirming that I did and I am, we hang up and I dash over to my suitcase in search of the perfect meet the parents outfit. Catching a glimpse of my toasty skin in the mirror, I lather myself in Oliver’s factor 50. Being proved wrong is a pet hate of mine, but being sun burnt is something I hate even more. Settling on my newly acquired Biba costume, I throw on the matching kaftan and sandals before sending a quick Whatsapp message to Lianna and Marc. It has been almost two days since my last Madison update and I am starting to have withdrawal symptoms.

  Dropping the room key into my bag, I wander down the hotel lobby and take the stunning, glass lift to the ground floor. Resisting the temptation for a cocktail, I jump on a golf cart and fly through the grounds, holding on for dear life.

  As we stop at the beach, I tip Speedy Gonzalez a handful of pesos and hop off. Enjoying the soft sand between my toes, I slip off my sandals and stroll towards the shoreline. Considering it is still early the beach is rather busy today, making it difficult to spot Oliver. Feeling like I am in a Where’s Wally cartoon, I am just about to set down my beach towel when a familiar voice catches my attention.

  ‘Clara! Over here!’

  And that’s when I spot him. Sprawled under a beach palapa next to a bustling beach bar, is my gorgeous boyfriend. Weaving through the sun worshippers and beach towels, I make my way over to him.

  ‘Good morning.’ I smile, allowing Oliver to pull me into a huge bear hug.

  ‘So, where are your parents?’ Dumping my bag down on the sand, I perch on the end of his sun lounger.

  ‘Dad has gone for a dip and mom went for more tequila. Have you eaten?’ He pulls over another lounger and motions for me sit down.

  ‘No, I haven’t eaten. I’m not that hungry though to be honest.’ I am actually starving, but the pressure of his parents is making me rather nauseas.

  Purposefully dragging my lounger into the shade, I lay down my plush towel and whip off my kaftan.

  ‘Here’s dad now.’ Oliver waves his arms over his head and I sit up straight, plastering a ridiculous smile across my face.

  Lifting my sunnies for a better look, I pull in my stomach and jump to my feet as he pulls me towards him.

  ‘Dad, this is my girlfriend, Clara Andrews.’ Oliver squeezes me tightly and I feel a swell of pride.

  Looking up at the very handsome, greying gentleman in front of me, I am suddenly aware of where Oliver’s good looks come from.

  ‘It’s lovely to finally meet you!’ I hold out my hand for a polite shake, but he bats it away and hugs me tightly.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.’ Randy holds me at arm’s length and I immediately know that I love him. ‘Welcome to the crazy world of the Morgan family.’

  ‘Your mother just went to the bathroom, had to fix her hair or something like that.’ He claps Oliver on the back and rolls his eyes.

  ‘How was your flight?’ I ask, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed.

  As Randy fills me in on his last minute change of plan and Janie’s abuse of the in f
light drinks menu, I settle down on my lounger.

  ‘Speak of the devil, here she is now.’

  Rolling onto my side, I look over in the direction that they are both waving and stare open mouthed at the woman walking towards us. This can’t be Oliver’s mum, surely not.

  The very tall, blonde woman with the world biggest boobs, who incidentally is wearing nothing more than a hot pink bikini and a pair of cowboy boots, is making straight for us. As she gets closer, I realise she is a lot older than she originally looked. The bright red lipstick and tattooed on eyebrows make a good attempt at concealing it, but she is definitely nearing sixty. I don’t quite know what I was expecting, but this most definitely was not it.

  Stopping at the edge of my sun lounger, she takes off her sunglasses and looks me up and down.

  ‘So, this is the girl you dragged me across the border to meet?’ Janie folds her arms and raises her frankly scary eyebrows.

  Oh, no. She hates me already.

  ‘Mom, come on now, play nice.’ Oliver helps me to my feet and I stand next to him awkwardly.

  ‘Um, hi Janie.’ I offer her a small smile and hope that she doesn’t yell off with her head.

  Janie studies me for a moment longer, before throwing her arms around my neck.

  ‘I’m kidding! Come here you pretty little thing!’

  Choking on her over powering perfume, I let out of a sigh of relief. She was joking! Of course she was joking! She squeezes me a little too tightly and plants a big, red kiss on my cheek.

  ‘Hurt my boy and I’ll make your nightmares seem like a happy place to be.’

  Maybe not.

  Chapter 10

  Half an hour later and I am beginning to feel rather uneasy at the thought of having to spend the rest of the holiday with Janie. She has made it glaringly obvious that she has taken an instant dislike to me. Obvious only to me that is. Oliver and Randy have been joyously bickering over the Houston Rockets and seem oblivious to the humongous elephant in the room. Not knowing the first thing about basketball, I decide to turn on the charm.