by R. R. Banks
I can see the type of exploring that she's been doing.
I didn't think that anything would come of the night that Vincent showed up at the door and took her for a late night walk. She told us when she got home that he had wanted to apologize for the way he spoke to her the night before. I remember thinking that it should be her apologizing to him for blowing him off as rudely as she did. I figured that she would do the same that night, copping her pristine virginal princess act and refusing to let him anywhere near her. Of course, it isn't even an act. She really is a delicate flower that might wilt if a man gets too close to her. But she sure looks like she is getting close to Vincent right now.
I don't care that she hasn’t been spending time with me. She's been a total drag since we got here, anyway. I thought being nice to her during the first hissy fit when she stomped away from the pool would be enough to appease her. Instead, it seemed to just give her license to make the rest of the vacation all about her. It's the attention from Vincent that's bothering me the most. I hate to be ignored. I'm used to being the center of attention. I deserve it. I'm everything a man could ever want, and I have skills to back it up. I'm used to having my pick of the men around me. They are there for my amusement and more than happy to fulfill my every desire.
But Vincent seems almost like he’s enamored with her. There's something about Olivia that has lured him in and it's beyond infuriating to watch. I know that he is chasing her in vain. There's only a few more days left in our stay on Catalina Island. After that, Olivia will pack her demure little pink panties and head back to her daddy, fully intact and ready to continue waiting virtuously for her future husband. She will have let his strong hands, sexy muscles, and haunting dark eyes go to waste. And she would have wasted my time as well. I can only hope that the novelty of her pure and innocent reputation will wear off soon and Vincent will tire of trying to woo her while getting nothing in return. When that happens, I'll make sure I am right there, ready to let him make up for all the lost sultry summer nights.
Olivia
I kiss Vincent before rushing inside the bungalow. Charlene, who was standing right inside, startles me, causing me to drop the bag I was holding.
"Charlene! You scared me," I whisper. " What are you doing standing there in the dark like that?"
"Waiting for you," Charlene says.
I look at her strangely as I lean down to pick up my bag.
"Waiting for me? Why? I said that I was going to be back this afternoon in time to get ready for dinner."
"It's not about dinner," she says.
"Then what is it?"
"Did I see Vincent dropping you off?"
I nodded. There's no reason not to tell her. I have been keeping my adventures with him to myself throughout the week, but there’s no point in lying now, especially since she just saw the two of us together.
"Yes," I say. "I spent the day with him. He took me swimming with dolphins."
Charlene doesn't seem as impressed or excited by the outing as I was, but then again, she is not exactly an animal lover. Her experiences with nature are limited to the beach, sailing at the bay, and the occasional spring garden party. Even then, I am fairly certain the closest thing Charlene has done akin to communing with wildlife is rummaging through her winter coat storage locker at home.
"You said that you were just going out. You didn't mention swimming with the dolphins with Vincent."
"I didn't know that's what we were doing," I say. "He planned it."
"So, am I right in assuming all these other times you've been off frolicking, you've actually been with him?"
"I've seen him several times, yes. What's that matter to you? You told me if there was something I wanted to do, I should do it. That I didn't need to spend the whole vacation by the pool or at the spa."
I don't mean to sound defensive, but that's the way the words are coming out of my mouth. I hate the way Charlene is looking at me. I hate the vicious, unspoken judgment I see in her eyes. Over the last week, I have defended her to Vincent so many times. I justified coming here, I defended the end of her engagement, I even backpedaled and tried to explain away her behavior at the bar. In all those times I was protecting her, I knew that on some level, I was trying to talk myself into believing that this friendship still made sense. As quick as I am to defend her, she is as likely to criticize or belittle me. I've tried not to let it get to me, but this routine is starting to get old.
"I did say that," Charlene says.
"But you didn't mean it?"
"No, I meant it. I just didn't know you would interpret that to mean you should spend the whole trip off with some lowly staff member rather than spending any time with us at all."
I draw myself up, filling my lungs and slowly exhaling the air in an attempt to calm myself.
"Who I spend time with is none of your concern," I say carefully. "I'm an adult and I'll do as I please. You just can't stand that I'm not standing in your shadow anymore. You hate that sweet, malleable little Olivia who has been by your side your entire life isn't waiting on you anymore. You hate that this time, it's not you who is receiving all the attention. He told me what you did at the bar that night. I know that's always worked for you before. It just didn't work on him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take a shower before getting ready for dinner. If you'll notice, I came back to spend time with Melanie."
I refuse to let Charlene see that I am choking back tears as I walk out of the living room and toward the bathroom. I don't let the tears fall until the shower is running. Casting off my sundress and wet bathing suit, I step into the shower and let the hot water stream over me. I hate what Charlene said to me, but I hate even more how it made me feel. I've been pushing away the reality that Vincent isn't a part of our world, our regular life. I haven't wanted to admit to myself that our days together are quickly dwindling.
My attraction to him is growing stronger each time I see him. He is completely different than any of the men I have dated before. But instead of being intimidating like it was at first, now it's refreshing and exciting. Being with him isn't like being with anyone else. He doesn't seem to care about impressing anyone. He moves with a confidence and a quiet control, not reliant on society or following its rules. Vincent is open and fun, so eager to take on whatever the day brings him. I have never experienced a man so thrilling or sexy. Just being near him makes me feel capable of doing things I never would have tried before. I'm comfortable and at ease with him. Never has he made me feel like I need to act as prim and proper as I always have. He lets me be me and seems as drawn to me as I am to him.
I realize I still don't really know him. I don't pry. I don't want to make him uneasy or scare him away with too much pressure. There's also a part of me that doesn’t care who he really is. It doesn't matter to me. I despise what Charlene said about him, even though I had also assumed he must be a member of the resort staff. We've seen each other at different times of the day, sometimes for just a few hours in the morning or the afternoon, and sometimes the entire day late into the night. His knowledge of the resort and everything the island has to offer is extensive, which suggests that he has spent considerable amount of time here. Since I have never seen him pay for anything, except for signing a receipt at dinner, he must have some kind of pull with other employees, since he can arrange for special access to activities and other resort amenities.
Charlene mentioned she hadn't been able to meet with the owner of the resort because he was away on business. Maybe the staff has more flexibility and can get away with more when he's not around. Even if Vincent is a member of the staff, I don't care. It's not his status I have fallen for. It's him, and how he makes me feel. Thinking about how little time I have left with him hurts so much I can barely think. I need to make every moment as meaningful as I can, and hopefully along the way, I can figure out how to make this last.
Chapter Ten
Olivia
"What did you do today, Olivia?"
Tia pe
rches on a stool at the kitchen island, stirring a drink in her hand. She smiles at me as she waits for the details of my latest date with Vincent. I ignore Charlene's piercing eyes as she stalks through the living area to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She has barely acknowledged my existence in the days following our argument. I don’t mind though. Those days were spent enjoying my time with Vincent. Every day he had something else planned for us. Every morning, I woke up happy, wondering what surprises were waiting for me. I tried not to think about how fast my remaining days on the island were passing by, and I continue to try to do that now as I slip onto the stool next to Tia. As long as I don't think about it, I can pretend these days will keep coming, and I will never have to worry about leaving the island or Vincent behind.
"We went miniature golfing."
Her chin drops slightly, and she looks at me down the bridge of her slim nose. Tia is exquisitely beautiful, all sharp angles and tight lines that come together to give her a regal appearance. The only other person I have met with features as chiseled and lovely as hers is Laurel. Their high cheekbones, sharp noses, and piercing eyes, along with rich brown skin and flawless braids, made them look like they could be related.
"Miniature golfing?" she asks.
"Yeah. It was fun."
"That handsome man took you miniature golfing?"
"Yes. What's wrong with that?"
Alma comes into the kitchen and looks at Tia questioningly.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Vincent took Olivia miniature golfing."
"So? What's wrong with that?"
"That's exactly what I want to know," I say.
Tia sits back and stares at me for a few seconds.
"Let's do some comparisons. Romantic private dessert picnic by the moonlight. Swimming with dolphins. Elaborate dinners. A glass-bottom boat ride. Snorkeling. Long walks on the beach. And now... miniature golf."
As she lists the dates Vincent has taken me on, I start to regret sharing our adventures during an impromptu pajama party we had the night before. A party from which Charlene was mysteriously missing.
"You forgot ziplining," I add.
There's no reason for the list to be incomplete, after all.
"What?" Tia asks.
"Ziplining. I flipped upside down."
"Ah, yes. Upside-down ziplining…and miniature golf."
"The upside-down part wasn't intentional."
"And miniature golf!" Tia says emphatically. "Which one doesn't belong here?"
"It was fun," I repeat. "He noticed that I wasn’t confident in my swing, so he stood behind me and helped me."
"Ah," Tia says with a knowing smile. "Now it all makes sense."
"What do you mean?"
"Olivia. He's trying to seduce you," she says.
"Since when is miniature golf seductive?"
"You said it yourself. He stood behind you and helped you? This gorgeous man brought you out somewhere where he could tuck up against you, wrap his arms around you, and teach you how to hold a nice, long stick. Did he help you get a hole-in-one too?"
"Tia!" Alma scolds.
I glance over where Alma sits on the couch. Her silky jet-black bob sways slightly as she shakes her head.
"Oh, she's fine Alma," Tia says. "It's not like she's a child."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
Tia and Alma exchange glances. I get the distinct impression they are trying to decide if they want to mention something to me. Finally, Alma looks at me again.
"We've been wondering," she says carefully. "I mean, we were talking over lunch after you left, and the topic came up that…"
"Are you fucking him?"
"Tia!"
Tia shrugs.
"It was going to take you the rest of the vacation to ask her. We might as well just cut right to the chase."
"You could try to have a little bit of decorum."
Tia shrugs again and takes a sip of her drink through the colorful straw.
I look back and forth between these two women who are supposed to be my friends.
"You were talking about me like that?" I ask.
"We didn't mean anything by it," Alma says.
"We're just curious," Tia adds. "After all, you have been spending quite a bit of time with him over the last few weeks. He seems to be trying really hard for something."
"You can't possibly imagine that a man would want to spend time with me just because he enjoys spending time with me?" I ask. "It couldn't possibly be that he just appreciates my company?"
"It's not that it's not possible," Alma says.
"It's just... unusual," Tia says.
A sudden thought makes my stomach drop.
"Was Charlene with you?" I ask.
They exchange glances again, this time looking distinctly more uncomfortable.
"Yes," Alma admits.
"Fantastic," I say, jumping down off the stool. "I'm sure she had plenty to say about the topic, didn't she?"
"What happened between the two of you?" Tia asks. "You went from being her maid of honor to persona-non-grata over the course of one day."
"It wasn't one day," I say, shaking my head. "What did she say? Tell me."
"I'm sure she didn't mean it," Alma says.
"What did she say?" I ask.
"She doesn't understand why he's putting so much effort into you when all you are is a tease. Her words, not mine. She says she thinks there is something else going on."
"What does she mean by something else going on?"
"She said she thinks he has some sort of ulterior motive for spending so much time with you, and she's sure it has something to do your swimsuit bottoms. And what’s in them."
"It's exactly like I said to her. She can't stand the fact that he is interested in me and didn't take her up on her offer to…"
"Choke on his golf club?" Alma offers.
"Yeah."
I shake my head and start toward my bedroom, not bothering to wipe away the tears.
"Have you?" Tia asks.
There is a softness to her voice instead of the suggestive tone from before. It doesn't detract all the anger I am feeling. I stop and turn to look at her.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I haven't."
"Have you wanted to?" Alma asks.
I shoot a glare in her direction.
"What do you mean? Of course, I've wanted to. I am human. I can see him. I know what it's like to hold his hand and to feel his arms around me and to kiss him. It’s amazing. Of course, I thought about doing more."
"What's stopping you?" Tia asks. "Is it only because you're a virgin?"
I scoff.
"Isn't that reason enough?" I ask.
"What are you waiting for, Olivia? Your whole life you've been waiting, but why? I don’t understand.”
"It isn’t a matter of giving in," I say. "I've never believed that my first time was something to just get over with. I want to be in love. I want it to be unforgettable."
"Is that what how you feel about Vincent?"
"I've known him two weeks," I say. "I can't be in love with him."
I look at her for a few seconds longer before turning and walking away. I have nothing to say to her. Leaving the bungalow, I close the door behind me and walk out onto the beach. The temperature has dropped significantly since the sun went down. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I had a sweater, but not wanting to go back inside just yet. The sand is still warm beneath my feet and I take off my shoes to walk along it.
A breeze comes off the ocean, fluttering through my hair. The touch reminds me of Vincent and his fingers grazing along my cheek. Everything I said to Tia was true. Of course, I had thought about exploring more of my sexuality with Vincent. Every time he touches me, my body responds. He kisses me, and I melt into him. I find myself craving a deeper, unknown connection. The image of Charlene's face flashes through my mind. It makes me angry, and I walk faster to try to force it out of my thoughts
. I don't want this to be about her. I don't want to feel as though I am making a decision to show her up or make a point. This has to be about me.
I slowly walk through the tiny store, taking it all in. My fingers absently move at my sides to run across the luxurious fabrics hanging on the displays. The options are almost overwhelming. There's everything from black lace to delicate, gauzy white. Soft pastels and breezy florals fill the range in between. I don't even know where to begin.
"Is there something I can help you find?"
A woman with a kind, welcoming smile walks over to me. She's wearing tasteful, well-tailored slacks and a cream blouse with matching cardigan, but I can't help but stare and wonder what's underneath.
"Matching ivory, silk, and lace," she says. She smiles a little wider. "Don't worry, everybody wonders the same thing."
My cheeks burn from blushing.
"I guess it's the same thing as making sure your hairdresser has good hair," I say.
"Exactly," she says.
She laughs, putting me at ease.
"I need something special," I say. "But I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for."
"Well, that's why I'm here. I'll help you find something perfect. What are you planning?"
I draw in a breath and let it out slowly. This is just the first step.
***
Shaking slightly, I stand in the bathroom of Vincent's bungalow that night. Lights embedded around the mirror in front of me illuminate even more than the fitting room at the lingerie shop. I feel vulnerable and exposed as my eyes run along the curve of my hips accentuated by the champagne satin that skims my body to my ankles. The deep scooped neck sweeps down over my breasts, revealing a swell of cleavage. The back dips even lower to curve beneath the dip of my waist.
I knew it was perfect the instant I saw it. Kate, the sales clerk at the store, showed me so many pieces before this one I nearly gave up. Then she brought this to me, draped across her arms, and I didn't even need to put it on to know it was exactly what I had been looking for all along. When I did let it slip down over my head and settle against my skin, I knew it was the one.
