“I’m going to order some Champagne spritzers while we wait for our luggage,” Tim announces.
Once he’s located the room’s phone, he dials to place an order of Champagne spritzers as well as a snack tray. Kim settles into one of the sofas to glance through a visitor’s guide. I decide to check out the hotel goods. Kim updates Tim on our room arrangements. They snicker at the idea of Tim having a vacation fling.
The bathroom that adjoins my room is lovely. There’s a spa tub with a waterfall shower. The commode’s off in a nook. A large sink and vanity are the focal point of the room. On the counter are several hotel products: shampoo, conditioner, and other toiletries. I tend to my bathroom necessities then take my time washing my hands.
I’m distracted by a recollection of my last encounter with David. My mind runs wild as I imagine what our next encounter would be like—hot and sexual. Was our intimacy so hot because he was my first, or were we just sexually meant for one another? As I step out of the bathroom, I hear a knock on our door.
“I have your luggage,” a male voice announces from the hallway. Tim’s first to the door, so he makes way for the bellboy. Cole, as his nametag states, places our luggage near the rooms, then waits awkwardly.
“Thank you, sir!” the boy says with gratitude as he walks out of our suite with Tim’s gratuity in hand.
Before we have the opportunity to move our luggage to our rooms, there’s another knock on the door. Again, Tim reaches the door first. He clears a path for the attendant, allowing her to wheel in a cart with a pitcher of Champagne spritzers, along with Champagne flutes, accompanied by an array of Hors d’oeuvres.
The layout’s perfect: fresh caviar and crispy whole wheat crackers, along with creamy pate and what looks like chunky Gouda squares. Kim must have tipped the attendant a nice gratuity, because, just like Cole, the attendant left with a wide smile on her lips.
Tim fills our glasses then declares, “To a wonderful vacation with two fun gals!”
“Cheers!” we agree as we clink our Champagne flutes. I excuse myself, Champagne in hand. I place my glass down and return to the living room to move my luggage to where it will stay during our trip. I sip my drink and consider what fun we will have on our first night at the resort—then contemplate how I should dress.
“Are we going to have a night in or out of the resort?” I inquire from my room.
I’m greeted with silence until Tim responds, “Kelly mentioned the dining room converting into a dance hall at night. He said locals often come and make the nightlife lively.”
Then Kim adds, “As long as we’re together—I’m up for whatever.”
I wasn’t exhausted, but felt that we should stay in, so I answer, “A night in it is!” I decide on a long flowing navy Victoria’s Secret dress paired with gray thong flats, then I turn the last two sips of my spritzer into one gulp before collecting my outfit, shower shoes, and bathroom bag.
After a quick shower, I moisturize and dress. I apply modest natural makeup and let my hair air dry with a handful of leave-in conditioner. A quick check in the mirror assures I have achieved my desired look.
I waltz out of the hotel bathroom, feeling positive and ready to take on our first night in Key West. Tim and Kim compliment my dress selection; I thank them before I serve myself another glass of spritzer.
Tim and Kim disappear to freshen up. I make up a small plate of crackers with pate and caviar. With my plate in one hand and my glass in another, I walk to the closest window to admire the view.
It’s 5:00 PM, and people are busy outside. There are people enjoying the pool. A distance away from the resort, boats zoom through the choppy blue water. I walk to another window, but lose interest once I notice there’s nothing to see. With my plate and glass in hand, I glide to lounge in a nearby chair, then finish my snack and my second glass of spritzer.
A phone rings off in the distance. I recognize the ringtone, then frantically search for my phone—I find it on the hotel nightstand. My phone becomes silent the moment I reach it. Damn! A quick glance at my call log reveals I missed a call from Violet.
I tap her name to connect our call. She inquires about the trip; I tell her it was smooth and pretty uneventful until we were on US-1.
“Oh, I love that view!” Violet interrupts with nostalgia. She informs me that everyone’s keeping busy. We promise to talk in a couple of days then end our call.
Ten minutes after I end my call, Tim emerges from the bathroom—dressed and ready to impress. He’s wearing light navy slacks with a cream button-up shirt—with his sleeves rolled up. Without a word, we walk out onto our private balcony. We’re in awe of our view as the breeze gently kisses our face.
“I could get used to this,” Tim declares as he departs towards our goodie-cart. He refills his Champagne flute as Kim steps out of our shared bedroom in a coral-colored mini dress, paired with gold flats. Like me, Kim applied modest makeup and jewelry that complemented her outfit well.
“Look at us! We fit in perfectly here,” Kim declares as she observes our outfits. She refills her drink.
We return to our balcony to soak in the magnificent view. I take my time to notice everything. Our room faces the ocean, providing us with an unbelievable view of a well-decorated pier. Rows and rows of large turquoise umbrellas cover various tables and chairs. A large tent-like structure conceals a well-shaded bar. Tim notes that we’re close to the pool, however, our view centralizes on the outdoor club/pier where many patrons are enjoying the usual ocean activities.
We continue on the balcony as we finish our cart of goodies. After finishing the pitcher of spritzer, Tim requests that our cart be removed. Within ten minutes a hotel attendant arrives. Kim and I stay on the balcony while Tim attends to the hotel worker. Once the hotel attendant leaves, Tim joins us. In silence, we gaze in awe as the sky grows dim.
“Let’s watch the sunset on the pier!” Kim waves her hands in the air like an excited child at a candy store. Tim shuts off all the lights, leaving the lights below as our only light source. Kim and I follow his lead, we make sure we have our room keys and any belongings that we might need for the night. Tim shuts the door then follows us onto the elevator.
Before the doors close, a group of female voices holler from the hallway.
“Please hold the doors! Please!” The female voices grow closer, and, before the doors can close, three beautiful, tan, very different girls practically jump into the elevator.
Without much encouragement from our group of three, the new group introduces themselves.
“Hi everyone!” the shorter of the three says.
“My name is Charlotte, this is Emily, and Anne—like the Bronte sisters.” Charlotte’s roughly 5’4” and full of life. She’s wearing a bright green halter-top dress that barely covers her extremely toned legs; it matches her green eyes and beautifully shiny auburn hair.
Anne’s the shy one; she gives us a lopsided smile then says, “Hello,” before glancing at her phone. She’s wearing a vivid purple halter dress that’s much longer than Charlotte’s. Anne’s taller, almost meeting my 5’7” frame. The purple dress makes her hazel eyes pop, and her light brown hair glisten.
Last, but not least, Emily’s the prettiest of the three. However, for whatever reason, she has no interest in us. She portrays herself as the meanest of the group—I guess there always has to be the one mean friend. Her smile is more like a snarl, as if she’s doing us a favor by being near us. Emily’s wearing a bright red halter-top paired with navy short shorts. Of the three, Emily’s stacked thong platform sandals make my 5’7” seem miniscule.
Tim, Kim, and I introduce ourselves. Afterwards, the elevator becomes silent —until we reach the lobby. Once the elevator doors open, the lobby greets us with an uproar of nightlife.
There are small groups scattered throughout the lobby. Tim waves at Kelly, who’s peering over a sitting group of older men. Without much planning, we remain in our group of six. Tim somehow ends up in the middle of us f
ive gals, which has him walking like the king of the group. Charlotte takes the lead and guides us onto the pier.
“Should we get a table for six?” Charlotte inquires in a hopeful tone.
“Sure,” Tim, Kim and I respond.
Emily, however, isn’t thrilled about sharing a table. Anne immediately warms up to Kim, so they sit next to each other. Charlotte, Tim, and I sit facing each other—while Emily pouts in between Anne and Tim.
“Try to enjoy yourself,” Charlotte snaps at Emily. Kim and Anne continue their hushed conversation. Tim scoots closer to Emily, then lowers his arm around her. As if Tim smelled like a sour, rotten onion, Emily twists her face into an expression such as the sour face on a War Head candy wrapper.
“Calm down, beautiful, I’m totally gay! I got us our penthouse suite by flirting with the hotel manager. Everyone usually loves me,” Tim coaxes as he shakes his shoulders in a persuasive but hilarious manner; which makes most of the group laugh.
“I’m sorry. I just…” Emily begins, sighs, then sulks her body towards Tim. The rest of us are silent as we wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.
She stifles tears then searches for the words, until Charlotte blurts out, “Her boyfriend dumped her SIX months ago—for a transsexual!” Those who were unaware of the news gasp, but quickly offer remorseful expressions to Emily.
“Charlotte!” Emily scolds as she glares with hatred.
“Oh, honey,” Tim says as he hugs Emily close.
“We all have our reasons for vacationing. I recently relocated to Florida to escape…” he begins until he’s distracted by a group of tan, muscular men. I decide to chime in and say, “I’m down here to recover from my boyfriend’s psycho ex-girlfriend…” I’m relieved by sharing my truth, but ashamed that I may be judged as someone who runs from her problems.
“Yikes!” Charlotte and Emily respond. Anne acknowledges my predicament then continues to listen to Kim gush about some cute guy who is sitting at a table nearby.
“Yeah, I just met these two, like less than a week ago: Tim first, then Scarlet. They’re my new family. I needed to get away from the disaster my ex-boyfriend made of my life…” Kim reveals then continues to recollect the tragic death of her boutique.
“Hello, beautiful people!” A cute, plump girl exclaims. Star stickers surround her name, ‘Tammy’.
“Would you guys like to hear our dinner specials?” she inquires through a wide smile. The group is silent; time passes as we wait to hear anyone speak up.
“Sure,” Emily says. Tammy informs us that the house wine is paired with any meal, unless there’s a request for a different beverage. Blackened Rainbow trout with steamed veggies is the meal of the night. Tim orders a flatbread marinara spinach pizza as our appetizer along with a pitcher of sangria—the rest of us applaud Tim’s selection. Tammy notes our order then excuses herself.
Kim and Anne carry on their private conversation while the rest of us admire the scenery and evident social group—the young and wealthy. We’re sitting near the center towards the end of the pier. Our small group grows silent as we observe the pink and blue shades mesh into a soft dark purple as the sunset overpowers the sky. The sun makes a graceful bow into the ocean.
“This is a much-needed night out,” Emily discloses in between sips of sangria.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Tim responds as he draws Emily closer. I’m glad she warmed up to him. Any person left for another deserves to be bratty about it, but also requires some extra love and care.
Charlotte excuses herself to the restroom then returns as our group finishes our appetizer and sangria. We’re in need of service much quicker than Tammy expected. Once she notices, she apologizes for her delay.
“Are you ready to order?” Tammy inquires, searching our faces for a response. I’m a tad full from all the snacking and beverages, so I let the table know I’m fine with another pizza and pitcher of sangria. The other girls agree, so Tim confirms our order. Tammy thanks us for our patience and promises to return swiftly.
“Are we planning to stay here for the evening?” Emily questions in a hopeful tone. It’s obvious she wants a calm evening—unlike Charlotte, who wants an adventure. Charlotte perks up to announce that, while she was away from the table, a handsome hotel attendant mentioned that tonight the hotel planned a yacht party, and we’re invited—even Emily’s excited.
We chat as we wait for our appetizer and sangria. Charlotte grabs our attention by letting us know where her group is from. To our surprise they’re all from Miami but are intending to move to Naples.
Charlotte’s grandfather owns several businesses that require Charlotte’s parents to step in and take over. Emily and Charlotte co-own a promoting agency, and Anne’s the company’s catering manager.
“I need a move from Miami, not just a vacation…” Emily reveals before glancing down at her hands.
“What about your family?” Kim inquires.
“Anne is my sister; our parents passed away after a horrible car accident when we were babies. Our mother was Charlotte’s mother’s twin—she adopted us shortly after our parents passed, so we’ll be with our family,” Emily responds with a weak smile on her face. Her background story encourages me to share about my own adoption.
“We have so much in common,” Emily notes as she squeezes my hand tightly. Tammy returns with our last pizza and pitcher of sangria. Tim informs Tammy that he’s ready for the bill. Immediately everyone protests, but Tim wins.
“Not too often am I blessed to have the opportunity to enjoy the company of such beautiful and interesting ladies,” Tim gushes as he signs the bill.
We savor our pizza and sangria. Tim hands Tammy the bill. She thanks us for a pleasant visit then wishes us an enjoyable evening. We chat and stroll out off of the pier until Charlotte becomes uneasy when she realizes that it’s almost 10:00.
“SHIT! We have to hurry!” she bellows and increases her speed. Before anyone’s able to react, we’re running behind her—she sure enjoys being the leader. My injuries ache, so I fall behind. Five minutes into our run, Emily stops and announces, “These shoes are not meant for this, Charlotte!”
We reduce our speed, then begin a brisk walk towards a lavish and enormous yacht that’s named The Ocean Key. Charlotte recognizes the hotel attendant and darts in his direction.
“Just in time, ladies and gent,” the attendant greets us with a friendly smile. His nametag reads, ‘Tad’. We pass Tad to board the yacht. I’m unsure what to expect but become relieved when we’re walking amongst a large group of young and extremely attractive people. Tim adds to my relief and questions, “Did you think it’d be an orgy of old people?”
We snicker at my misconception, then pick up the pace to keep up with Charlotte, who is now with the head of the largest group on the yacht. The rest of us blend in and observe as Charlotte charms her way into a conversation with strangers—she’s absolutely entertaining.
Once Charles, as his group calls him, recognizes that Charlotte, the charmer, isn’t part of his group, he excuses himself, with Charlotte in tow. I watch as they find a secluded corner.
Tim and I become acquainted with Charles’ group of friends: Paul, a stockbroker from Pelican Bay who is vacationing with his college friends. Charles is a trust-fund kid from Texas; Fredrick, a lawyer from NYC; and Marshall a pediatrician from Orlando. All four guys are Duke University alumni. They make it a point to, at least once a year, to vacation together. All of the guys are unmarried, two are recently single, while two are just hardheaded, lifelong bachelors, as Fredrick put it.
Paul attempts to separate me from the group, but I quickly inform him that I’m in a serious relationship. He loses interest, then focuses his attention on Kim. Fredrick has his eyes set on Emily. She’s totally failing at hiding her interest, so the two disperse to also find a secluded corner. Paul succeeds with Kim, leaving Marshall with Anne. They’re obviously both shy, so Paul and Kim agree to move the foursome to a table nearb
y. Tim and I stare in amused disbelief that it took less than twenty minutes to pair everyone—but us.
“Does your cell work out here?” Tim questions as he attempts to find service.
“No,” I say as I lean my head on his shoulder.
Our night’s calm and tranquil on the ocean. We cruise around the island then venture out into the open water. At 2:00AM we begin our journey back to the resort. After falling asleep on Tim’s shoulder, I awake to the yacht docking. I smile at Tim when I notice he had fallen asleep as well. Kim informs us that the guys invited us over for a nightcap in their penthouse suite.
“Honey, I’m off to bed, but you be safe and enjoy yourself,” Tim says to Kim. We give her a quick embrace then let the others know we’d see them later.
Tim and I walk with our arms linked, from the yacht dock to the hotel entrance, past the lobby, then into the elevator. As we wait for our floor, I rest my head on his shoulder—he tenderly kisses my forehead. The elevator doors open, we step out, and continue to walk with our arms linked, towards our penthouse suite.
“Isn’t it weird how we have met all of our neighbors?” Tim inquires.
“I’m sure Charles and his friends are in a different area,” I offer right as Kim and company exit the elevator.
“You guys sure you don’t want to join us?” Charles inquires over Charlotte’s head.
“Thanks, Charles, but we’re calling it a night,” Tim and I respond as we enter our room.
Tim hugs me tight then kisses my cheek. He turns then trots off to his room. I beeline to the bathroom, change into my pajamas, remove my makeup, then give my teeth a vigorous scrubbing. It’s three in the morning, and I’m ready for bed. I send David an email:
Hi, babe. I hope you miss me as much as I miss you. We had a mellow evening; I hope yours was the same. After the front desk blundered our reservations, Tim hit it off with the hotel manager, Kelly—he upgraded our room to a penthouse suite. Thus far, our vacation has been a nice distraction from the obvious…Oh! And the resort’s gorgeous. I’m enjoying myself, but I wish you were here. I’ll try to call tomorrow. I love you. Good night.
Scarlet's Torment (1) Page 15
