Amanda kept saying, “Oh my God!” and whacking Julie on the arm as she pointed to one wonder after another: the lushly landscaped rock waterfall tumbling into the pool, the surreal turquoise water of the ocean lagoon, the clearly recognizable movie starlet lounging by the tiki hut bar.
She even heard Alan whisper, “Holy crap,” at one point, and he was usually pretty hard to impress. He wasn’t even looking at the starlet at the time. Possibly at the poolside tiki bar’s beer selection. She suspected he’d spend some time becoming more familiar with that very soon.
One of the bellhops peeled off with Alan to a room on the end of one cottage row. Julie and Amanda were at the opposite end of the row, and they said, “Ooooh,” in tandem when they saw where they’d be staying.
“We can be totally uncool about this now, yes?” Amanda pleaded.
“Yes!” Oh dear God, yes yes yes! If you couldn’t be uncool about something this awesome, there was no hope for you.
They jumped and squealed at each other, amusing the bellhop. “I hope you ladies continue to enjoy your stay this much.”
“I’m sure we will,” Julie assured him, bounding across the room to hand him a tip. “Thank you!”
“Mahalo!”
Eeee!
When he closed the door behind them they burst into squeals again, clapping in delight like little kids.
The room was like something from a movie, all hardwood floors and gorgeous modern furniture. A bathroom three times bigger and about fifty times cooler than her standard-issue apartment bath. The fresh flowers throughout the suite were the giant red phallic-looking ones and tiger lilies, floral enticements to debauchery. Julie hadn’t needed enticing. She’d arrived in Hawaii hoping to accomplish some debauchery, but the flowers definitely helped set the mood.
“Jules, it looks like your condo!”
“Not my condo yet. Not for another three years.” Julie had some saving still to do before she could afford the home of her dreams, a stylish place off Santana Row in the city. But she would get there. As long as she stayed on her current trajectory, by the time she was thirty she would be waking up in a sleek, modern, sophisticated space straight out of Architectural Digest. Walking down to the Row for coffee on weekend mornings, where she could sit outside on the plaza and read and watch the people. Strolling over to the indie movie theater to catch an art film if the whim struck her, or inviting people over to go to the wine bar in the middle of the square without the need to drive home afterward. She could even ride her bicycle to work from there, a bonus she’d never anticipated when she first concocted her plan at age twenty.
And Amanda was absolutely right. This bore a marked resemblance to the place she had her eye on. Further inspiration to keep her nose to the grindstone.
“Movie stars stay here,” Amanda reminded her as they pored through the fruit basket.
Julie nodded as soberly as she could manage. “They don’t appreciate it like we do, though.”
Another round of Eeeeee! followed, because they simply couldn’t help themselves. It was that kind of place.
They explored the whole suite, then headed back out the glass doors to sit on the private lanai, with its prime view of the beach and the pristine turquoise water.
And an even better rear view of a passing jogger.
All high-pitched squealing stopped as the friends watched the guy lope away from them on the far edge of the lawn that ran between their room and the beach proper. He disappeared beyond the bushes that separated their cluster of rooms from the next, and Julie finally exhaled.
“Whoa.”
Amanda wasn’t usually an ogler, but she clearly hadn’t been able to help herself. Julie couldn’t blame her. The jogging man had looked so...dangerously fit. A whole new realm of potential vacation activities suddenly opened up in her mind. Debauchery plus.
“Is it just me,” Amanda asked, “or did he look familiar?”
“Not just you. I didn’t see his face, but he still looked like James Bond. One of the awesome Bonds, too. He totally looked capable of kicking someone’s ass while making a tux look good. I wonder how long he’s staying? I didn’t see a wedding ring....”
“You took the time to look at his finger? Wow. I didn’t even think of that. I was mesmerized by the ass and his ability to carry off a crew cut. For me, a guy like that is completely theoretical, anyway, so why worry about whether he’s actually with someone? It could only hinder the fantasizing.”
Julie shrugged, looking out at the ocean again. The water was too blue to believe, and its constant, gentle roar soothed her, even as she tensed at the idea of relying on fantasizing about guys who could only ever be theoretical. She was trying to get away from that reality. Instead, she might very well be doomed to spend four days getting a crash course in exactly why it was such a bad idea, if Alan found a vacation hookup and she didn’t.
“It matters. He’s a different person if he’s with somebody. And what if you fantasize now, then have to watch him mack on some other girl every night at dinner? Or some guy, or whatever. That shit gets painful. Better to be forewarned. But hey, why should he only be theoretical to you? You’re adorable. If he’s single you should go for it.” After all, there had to be plenty of other likely prospects. It was a huge resort.
She knew this kind of encouragement went right past her five-foot-two pixie-haired friend, but kept saying it in the hopes it would stick one day. Instead, Amanda had seemed even more down on herself since breaking off her engagement the previous year. Julie never understood why Amanda couldn’t see any of her own appeal. Petite, delicate, girly and nothing like her gangly, awkward best friend.
Julie had grown into her tallish athletic figure and added some curves as an adult, but she still felt like that same dorky kid inside. Her hair was thick, brown, curly and unruly, and she had decided at a certain point in high school that she refused to consider it the bane of her existence. That would be letting the hair win, and she couldn’t let that happen. But now she rarely considered it at all, just shoving it into a ponytail or bun and forgetting about it for the rest of the day. No amount of product or appliance could turn it into soft, springy waves as seen on TV, not that she’d really devoted much effort to trying. Her attention was on work, and on completing the ambitious ten-year plan she’d begun back in college. Her only fashion obsession was big earrings, of which she owned far too many.
Amanda, on the other hand, got her hair cut once a month, and always seemed to know which products to use to bend it to her will. She professed to actually enjoy shopping for clothes, and she didn’t still own the same makeup that she’d used in college just because it hadn’t run out yet.
Julie often wondered if they would have ever become best friends if it weren’t for the alphabet. Growing up, they sat together so often in school—Julie Perfetto, Amanda Perry—that it was like the universe was pushing them together. Neither girl had ever regretted it, but they were definitely an odd couple.
Amanda peered after the guy, shaking her head. “I’m a stocky elf. You’re gorgeous, and you’ve seen all the James Bond movies. You’re like Adventure Girl. You should go after him yourself.”
“Are you bailing out on the frisky vacation-hookup high jinks?” They’d planned to be each other’s moral support in this wild scheme.
“No, I’m still one hundred percent on board with that. I need to get laid like whoa,” Amanda clarified. “I’m going insane.”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
She shot her friend a look. “It has been ten months, ten days, and I lost track of the hours at daylight savings time, but it’s a lot of hours. It has been a long time. I have run through way too many batteries. Jeremy may have been an asshole, but he’s a tough act to follow.”
Julie flashed back to Amanda’s ex-fiancé. The perfect man, really...except for the part where he’d apparently expected Amanda to give up her own very solid career in San Jose to move with him to Seattle for his start-up. Their breakup h
ad been unexpected, abrupt, and more than a little acrimonious.
Resorting to battery toys alone for that long seemed a little silly, though. With dismay, she realized her own dry spell was actually longer than Amanda’s. Over a year. She hadn’t even dated anybody since The Incident at the Christmas party.
“Definitely time for some vacation naughtiness, then,” she said, when she became aware that Amanda was still waiting for a response.
“I agree. And while the idea of a stranger still freaks me out a little, I’ve come up with a plan. Probably a really bad one, if history tells me anything, but at least it’s something.”
Julie only knew one guy her friend could have already made a plan about that involved history. She started to flat out ask if Amanda was talking about Alan, but something stopped her. Possibly the cold knot of something icky that had begun to form in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t put a name to the ick, which bothered her. It was more a general feeling of wait, now...wait. No. Which was stupid. She had no claim on Alan, and objectively speaking he was a great guy. Why wouldn’t she want Amanda to investigate further? Hell, she’d already tried to fix them up once before. Three years ago. When she hardly knew Alan.
“I have more immediate concerns. They’re about getting my bikini on and finding a fancy umbrella drink before dinner. You in?”
“Julie, honey, I’ve never been so in.”
Chapter Three
For Julie, the whole point of the vacation was to get away from home. She wanted exotic. Debonair strangers, dangerous beach joggers. Instead, she got Alan, not even shirtless, appearing on the lanai right as she and Amanda were heading out. He had exchanged his shorts for swim trunks, but otherwise wore what he had on the flight. And what he usually wore to work, for that matter. An XKCD T-shirt that only geeks would understand, and sports sandals. He’d been ready to go since they left San Jose.
“Oh my God?” he led off.
“Oh my God,” Julie confirmed. “Oh my fucking God, this place!”
“Are we going for drinks?”
She nodded. “Of course we are.”
“You’re, um...” His eyes shifted, flicking down for a second at her bikini-clad form. If she’d blinked, she would have missed it. “You’re going like that?”
That bad? “Yeah, that was the plan. Drinks, maybe a swim, then dinner. Look, Amanda’s in a bikini, too.”
The look he gave Amanda was more open and, if Julie didn’t mistake his expression, more appreciative. Why that struck her with a sudden pang, she wasn’t sure. She knew she shouldn’t care. She spent a great deal of time reminding herself she didn’t think of Alan that way, after all. If Amanda was ready to try Alan on for size again, Julie should be happy to see that the interest was reciprocated. Because they were her friends.
“So she is. I feel overdressed.”
“We’ll put pareos on,” Amanda volunteered. “I feel too exposed to relax and enjoy a drink like this. My butt’s hanging out.”
Her butt was too tiny to hang anywhere—if Amanda was stocky, Julie thought, she was the Easter Bunny—but she wasn’t going to argue if Alan’s dismissive glance at her own bikini body was any indication of the reception she’d receive out in the world.
Amanda had to show her how to tie the pareo around her hips, while Alan tapped his foot and sighed extravagantly. “You’re wearing next to nothing and it still takes you forever to get ready.”
“I’ll remind you that I am typically ready before you.” It was true, because unlike Julie, Alan did wear hair care products, and sometimes he even ironed his clothes.
“An aspect of our friendship that I genuinely appreciate.”
“There. You’re a beach goddess now.” Amanda stood back to admire her handiwork, and Julie had to admit she liked the way the soft fabric of the pareo clung to her hips and created the impression of a smaller waist.
Then she caught it—the peek. Amanda’s momentary sideways gaze at Alan, right before she blushed. Julie’s stomach lurched again.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! Why should that be full of fuck, though? She wasn’t supposed to care about Alan that way. Was. Not. Supposed. To.
“So, Alan,” Amanda ventured, while Julie tried to quell her growing distress, “I think you’re still overdressed. You don’t look like you’re in the spirit of things.”
“Nope. You need to lose the shirt.”
“And blind everybody with my pasty chest? I don’t think so.”
Julie thought, Go ahead, blind me. And then she identified the horrible clenching grip on her stomach. It was the hand of jealousy, clutching tight. Which was ridiculous, because the last thing she needed was a nerdy, straight-arrow guy from a big, clingy suburban family like her own, who worked with her every day. Besides, Alan was like a brother to her. A brother. She told herself that all the time, so it must be true, right? There were work spouses and there were real-life love interests, and never the twain should meet.
“Lay off, Amanda. If he’s not comfortable he should keep it on. Maybe you can reconsider it after a couple drinks,” Julie suggested to Alan. “When it’s dark out.”
Pretending not to see the puzzled glare Amanda turned her way, she headed for the door.
* * *
They never made it into the water. Drinks led directly into dinner. Night fell as they finished dessert and a last round, so they took themselves down to the beach, where a respectable bonfire and innumerable tiki torches illuminated the partiers’ faces with glowing, hellish intensity. A temporary grass-roofed bar was set up nearby. Beachy music thumped through the crowd, tempting everyone to dance, but the trio skirted the gyrating crush and continued past the fire to the water’s edge. Three in a row, arm in arm, flip-flops kicking up warm sand with every step. Alan was the monkey in the middle, and he’d already made several threesome cracks. He couldn’t resist, sandwiched between two undeniably hot women as he was, but damn was there an uncomfortable undercurrent.
Amanda laughed too loud at the jokes, and Julie could barely muster a smile, so the normal order of things felt entirely subverted. It hadn’t been bad at first, but the more relaxed they all got, the more obvious Amanda’s flirting became. The penny had finally dropped about halfway through dinner. She’s actually coming on to me. And Julie looked like she was about to cry—or possibly throw up, although she hadn’t had that much to drink. She was also doing an extreme version of the aggressive, outgoing good cheer that signaled she would rather be alone. Wearing her extrovert armor to protect her soft, chewy, introverted center, which usually only happened when she was stressed or upset about something. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Alan’s nerves rose, making him talk too much and say stupid, obvious stuff that nobody really ought to be laughing at. He couldn’t seem to make himself stop, though.
Underneath the nerves, however, there was a flicker of resentment he hated to acknowledge. Where did Julie get off pouting when she’d fixed him up with Amanda in the first place for their previous mildly disastrous attempts at dating? What was it to her if they hooked up for a vacation fling? Since that was obviously what Amanda had in mind, with the broad hints she’d been dropping. Now that he thought about it...it hadn’t been all that disastrous between them. More lacking in instant chemistry than anything else. Awkward moments, too many lulls in conversation. They had trouble agreeing on where to eat for their first date, because they had wildly different preferences in food. On their second try they’d gone to a movie, and hadn’t laughed in exactly the same places. Effort number three had been the “let’s meet for coffee and talk” outing, the end of the experiment.
But no animosity. And their brief make-out session on date two had probably been the highlight of the whole non-relationship. He could see them having a no-strings fling. Except for one thing, the part of their dates he thought wouldn’t translate well to meaningless sexytimes. The part where both of them kept talking about Julie. She was their best topic, the main thing they had in common. His favorite coworker, Ama
nda’s best friend. And that had been three years ago. These days, Julie was probably Alan’s best friend, as well.
It ended up not mattering whether he was receptive to the idea of hooking up or not. Instead of Amanda continuing to work up her nerve with him, she stopped in her tracks and pointed, gaping, at a guy standing near the water’s edge. And when the guy turned around to walk back toward the hotel, he spotted Amanda and friends. The mutual recognition struck like a lightning bolt, shocking the three friends into a cartoonish freeze pose that would probably have been comical to onlookers. Except the only onlooker wasn’t laughing.
“Oh my god!” Julie blurted. “He’s the mystery jogger!”
It was Jeremy.
“Whoa. This can’t be a coincidence,” Alan said.
Amanda dropped her arm from his, taking a step away. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
Okay, maybe there was a little animosity.
Jeremy lifted a hand, not quite waving. Alan had only met him a few times before the breakup, but he remembered him well enough to see he’d clearly made a lot of changes in the last year or so. The buzz cut, for one thing. And he had obviously been working out. Holy crap, had he ever been working out.
“So...are you gonna go talk to him?” Julie asked Amanda. “Or do we all just stand here looking at each other across the sand? Awkwardly? Like we’re doing right now....”
“Fuck. All I wanted was a damn vacation. And maybe some action. Was that really too much to ask? Really?”
“Oh, he’s coming over here. Please go talk to him. But, you know...report back. Because what the fuck?”
Sensing Amanda’s worsening mood, Alan tugged at Julie’s hand in a “cut it out” way, but she ignored him. Kept her hand in his, though. He liked that.
“Fuck,” Amanda repeated. But to Alan’s vast relief, she went. He and Julie watched for a minute as she met Jeremy and they started conversing. Over the party and the surf, they couldn’t hear the words, but it didn’t look pretty.
Mai Tai for Two Page 2
