His Paradise Wife

by Tina Martin

  Emily rested her head against her arms. She needed to come up with a plan to get away from Dante and off of Pleasure Island. She sure wasn’t getting any pleasure by being here, and she couldn’t endure another night with Dante even if her life depended on it.

  “Here you go, madam,” the bartender said.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Emily took a sip. “Mmm...this is good.”

  “Yeah, I put a little extra rum in there for ya.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So where are you visiting from?”

  “Asheville, North Carolina.”

  “Oh...the mountains.”

  “Yes.”

  “What brings you to Pleasure Island? Vacationing?”

  “Something like that. I sort of got married this weekend in the mass wedding at the GHC Resort.”

  “Cool,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “I saw that on the news.”

  “Yeah, well I was one of the brides.”

  “And where’s hubby?”

  Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably back at the hotel, thinking up more ways to irritate me.”

  The bartender grinned.

  Emily did too.

  “I heard the owner of that place got hitched,” the bartender said. “Is that true?”

  “Um...what’s his name?” Emily asked, playing along as if she wasn’t aware who the owner was.

  “Dante Champion. He’s pretty popular around these parks.”

  Yeah, I bet, Emily thought.

  “His resort has helped a lot of people, you know. I sent my mom there after my dad died.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. She just needed the therapy aspect of it. She stayed for two weeks, thanks partially to a grant she received from Mr. Champion’s GHC Foundation, and now, she’s doing so much better.”

  Emily took another sip of her drink. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah. It’s amazing how he used a tragedy in his own life to focus on helping others.”

  Hiding a frown, Emily said, “Tragedy in his own life...”

  “Yes. Girl, when I heard the story about what had happened to Mr. Champion, tears came to my eyes because, he’s such an astute businessman. He carries himself very well. Very professional. Then I found out his wife died of cancer. She’d fought it for two years and he traveled the country, seeking different opinions, looking for a doctor who could save her, but there was nothing no one could do.”

  “Oh my gosh. That’s terrible,” Emily said, feeling sick to her stomach. She’d had Dante all wrong. He had known the pain of losing someone. He’d lost his wife. When he chatted with her online, as Armand, he told her that his wife had passed. He didn’t say how she died, because he didn’t like talking about it, but he did tell her and he was being truthful.

  Emily couldn’t believe she’d been so rude to him. She’d jumped to conclusions about Dante, assuming that he made up the story about his deceased wife in order to get close to her online but he had not made it up. He even used his tragedy to help others.

  Emily turned up her drink to her mouth and took huge gulps.

  “You want another?” the bartender asked, smiling.

  “No. I have to go.” She took out a twenty-dollar bill, placed it on the bar and said, “Thank you,” then walked away.

  Taking her phone from her purse, she called Melanie, listening to several rings before she heard, “Hey, Mrs. Champion!”

  Emily shook her head. “Hey, Mel,” she responded in a melancholy mood.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No, not really.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I think I may have put my foot in my mouth.”

  “Uh oh. What have you done, Em?”

  “Okay, so Dante and I were arguing earlier because I didn’t join him for breakfast this morning or the marriage workshop. He told me that we could help each other, but I snapped...told him he didn’t know what I was going through after losing Melvin, but turns out, he knows exactly what I’m going through. He was married before...lost his wife to cancer.”

  “Oh my gosh. I didn’t know that.”

  “Exactly. And this entire time, I’m thinking he’s just an arrogant pig, looking for the next woman to sleep with when, the reality is, he’s the complete opposite. I truly believe that he feels we can help each other and all this time I’ve been so mean to him.”

  “Well, the least you can do is apologize.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “And then, cut the man some slack, Emily. Who knows? You just might learn to like him.”

  Emily sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to go look for him.”

  “All right girl. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Emily began her walk back to the resort, pondering how she would approach Dante for an apology. But what if he wasn’t receptive? What if he’d had enough of her? What if he’d given up and left the resort altogether?

  When she walked in the suite, it was quiet and dark. Her first thought was that Dante had fallen asleep but he wasn’t on the couch. She continued on to the bedroom and he wasn’t there either. Then she peeped out onto the balcony. He wasn’t there.

  Back into the living room, she noticed his bags were still there. Maybe he’d gone to get a drink as she’d done. Deciding to just wait until he returned instead of going to look for him, she walked back into the bedroom, undressed and stood in the shower, thinking about how bitter she’d become in the two years she’d been without Melvin. Had his death really changed her so much to the point that being in the presence of any other man disgusted her – made her see all men as unworthy because the one man she wanted, the one she thought she would spend an eternity with had died in an automobile accident on his way home from work.

  She remembered the day of the accident like it was yesterday...she’d been at home, looking over a business plan for the boutique when she received the phone call. Melvin had been in a terrible accident and was rushed to the nearest hospital.

  She dropped everything and sped there, praying the whole way. Her breath almost escaped her several times as she tried to keep up with the thunderous beats of her heart.

  At the hospital, she rushed in, frantically looking for a nurse or a doctor – someone who could tell her about an accident victim named Melvin Mitchell who’d just been brought in, introducing herself as his wife.

  The look on the nurses’ faces said it all. Then a doctor stepped out and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Mitchell. We did everything we could. His injuries were too severe and he lost a lot of blood.”

  Standing under the shower water, she cried thinking about this. Maybe if she listened to Dante and kept an open mind about the resort by taking full advantage of the services they offered for those dealing with loss, it would help her to finally cope with Melvin’s death and give her the courage to move on with her life.

  Chapter 18

  When Emily got up in the morning, Dante wasn’t there. He’d been there because she could smell soap and cologne like he’d just taken a shower and headed out. She glanced at the clock. The time was 8:30 a.m. He was probably at breakfast.

  She rushed to get ready. She wanted to join him this morning, especially since she didn’t get a chance to talk to him last night. So after applying some makeup and brushing her hair, she took elevator down to the ground floor and rushing to the restaurant, she saw Dante sitting alone. All the other men were sitting with their wives.

  She walked over to his table, took a seat across from him, watching him glance up at her then back to his plate.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Good morning,” he responded, unenthused, still eating.

  There was no smirk on his face, no sneaky look or suppressed smile, she noticed. He was quiet and disinterested.

  Emily inhaled a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry.”

  That got his attention. He looked up at her confused. After h
e wiped his mouth with a napkin, he said, “Pardon me.”

  “I said, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you last night and I’m sorry for being difficult this entire week. I’m not usually like this.”

  He cracked a half smile and with raised eyebrows, he asked, “You’re not?”

  “No. Now does the smile mean you accept my apology?”

  “Is that what you want it to mean?”

  “That’s what I hope it means.”

  “Then, yes, I accept your apology. And I’m sorry for grabbing your arms the way I did.”

  Emily nodded. “Okay.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “Of course. I’ll try not to be angry and bitter for the rest of this trip and make a real attempt to enjoy the remainder of this journey.”

  “Let’s shake on it,” he suggested, to seal the deal and so that he could touch her hand in the process.

  Emily extended her hand across the table to him for a shake.

  He took her hand into his grasp, and said, “Are you certain you want to do this because I need you to be all in.”

  Emily felt a flame light up inside of her. “I’m sure.”

  “Good.” He released her hand then took a sip of water while studying her for a moment. She appeared nervous, he noticed. “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, there’s a buffet with a variety of breakfast foods. Would you like for me to make you a plate?”

  “I’ll get it, she said standing. “Besides, you don’t know what I like.”

  “I think I would do a pretty good job of it.”

  She smiled and continued to the buffet of foods. Dante watched her as she walked, paying particular attention to her curvy backside. She had a nice body, something he noticed when he’d first laid eyes on her, but now that she was being a rational and not the cranky, spastic woman she’d been for the last few days, he could enjoy just looking at her walk – the way her hips swayed from one side to the other.

  * * *

  After breakfast, they attended group couples counseling. In attendance were five other couples, sitting in chairs that circled the therapist who’d just finished outlining the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. She said, of all of these stages, acceptance was the hardest because it was difficult to face the reality of never seeing someone that you loved and cared for again. Then she opened up the floor for people to share their story.

  Emily looked around to see if anyone was going to voluntarily stand up and share their experience. No one moved. The room was eerily quiet. Dante was sitting to the right of her and out of her peripheral, she could see him staring at her. Had he even blinked?

  Audrey, the woman she’d met at her boutique, stood up and decided to share her story, and as everyone listened keenly, Emily could feel Dante’s eyes on her again.

  Dante had been examining her and he didn’t care if she was aware of it or not. This was the first time he was this close to her and she didn’t seem to mind it. He had a good view of her full, ripe lips and could smell her perfume, lotion or whatever she was wearing.

  Emily swallowed hard when Dante leaned close to her. She could his body heat co-mingling with hers.

  Whispering in her ear, he asked, “Are you going to share your story?”

  Emily turned to look at him. He was only a few inches away from her face. This close up, she could see his distinctive features. He was clean-shaven, his face so smooth, she wanted to touch him there. The mustache above his lips enhanced them, made them full and enticing, so much so that she began to think about what they might feel like pressed against hers. The gentle look in his bright, hazel eyes let her know that he really wanted her to participate.

  Holding his gaze, she whispered back, “I don’t want to.”

  His eyes brightened when he watched her lips move. Had he even heard her?

  “Dante, did you hear me?”

  The way his name rolled off of her lips had left him somewhat speechless. He loved the way she pronounced it and he looked forward to hearing her say it more often, maybe even more frequently following heavy breathing, panting, and screams of oohs and ahs.

  “Dante?” she said when she noticed he looked like he’d drifted off into a reverie.

  “Yes. I heard you. We’ll talk about it later.”

  * * *

  “I’m surprised there wasn’t an activity planned for today,” Emily said as she sat across from Dante at another onsite restaurant where he’d taken her for dinner.

  “There’s not an activity planned for tomorrow either. It’s time that couples are supposed to use to get to know each other.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  He took a sip of Bourbon and leaned back in his chair, staring at her as she finished up her meal. She’d changed into a royal blue dress that accentuated her skin tone and her curves. He examined her, every bite, every chew – the movement of her lips was a thing of beauty. And her oval, dark brown eyes were ones he could gaze upon continuously. He’d dated beautiful women. Anita was a beautiful woman. But something about Emily Mitchell set his soul ablaze every time their eyes connected, when she brushed up against him, smiled at him or touched his hand.

  “What?” she asked, her lips forming into a smile.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  “Just waiting for you to finish your meal so we can talk.”

  “I can talk and eat.”

  “I know. I’m just trying to be polite.”

  “Okay.” Emily wiped her mouth. “I’m done. Now what’s on your mind?”

  “The things you told me online about your marriage to Melvin, where they true?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you haven’t been with a man since he died?”

  Emily shook her head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “I never had the desire to date or be around another man.”

  “Well that explains a lot,” he said and flashed the most brilliant smile Emily had ever seen.

  Emily grinned. “I just never, really recovered from his death and I don’t think I ever will.”

  “See, that’s why you need to be attending these therapy sessions. You heard what the doctor said this morning. Acceptance is the most difficult stage of grieving.”

  “I think I have accepted it. I’m just not over it.”

  “Then you haven’t accepted it, dear.”

  “Okay. Maybe not.” Emily took a sip of water. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me your wife passed?”

  “I did tell you. It was one of the first things we discussed online, remember. You just chose to believe it was a lie once you found out that I was really Armand.”

  “How’d she die?”

  He clenched his jaw. “She had pancreatic cancer.”

  “Oh. You never told me that...online, I mean.”

  “I know. It’s not something that I like to talk openly about.” He took another sip of Bourbon. “I think my acceptance in the grieving process came even before she died.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, once we found out she had cancer, we went to see all of these specialists and they were telling us the same thing – that there was nothing they can do. They only offered chemotherapy as an option to prolong her life. It worked for two years and during those years, I accepted the fact that she was going to die and there was nothing I could do about it. When she finally did pass, it hurt. It’s been six years and I still miss her. I don’t think that ever goes away.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  “I’ll admit, the first three years were the hardest. The mutual friends we had all seemed to wither away. All I had was my brothers.”

  “So you’re close with them?”

  “Yeah. They’re each in charge of running different departments within the company. I talked them into moving to Ashevill
e and promised them I would singlehandedly make sure the company was a success and—”

  “You did it.”

  He smiled. “How do you know?”

  “I read an article about you in the paper.”

  His smile widened. “Really? So you’ve been reading up on me?”

  “Well my girlfriend pretty much made me read it. She’s a huge fan of yours.”

  “Which girlfriend is that, so I can thank her?”

  Emily laughed. “My friend Melanie. You were a panelist at the hotel she works at about a week ago.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “She told me.”

  Dante smiled. “I remember her. She was very helpful.”

  “Melanie is a very good friend of mine.”

  “I know.”

  “And how do you know that?” she asked him.

  “I have my ways.” Dante took a sip of Bourbon. “So no man after Melvin?”

  “No. How many women have you been with after Anita?”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “The way you ask the question suggests that I’ve been with a ton of women after Anita.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  “Okay. I dated maybe...um...twelve women. And before you ask, no, I did not sleep with all of them, and it was over the span of a few years. I was going through a stage in my life where I felt lonely and miserable all the time and I tried to fill that void with women. Then I realized what I was doing and how reckless I’d become so I changed that behavior...haven’t been with a woman in three years.”

  “Three years. That’s a long time for a man.”

  “And two years is a long time for a woman.”

  “No it’s not. Women can hold out longer. We’re looking for true love and romance.”

  “As am I. Hopefully now that we’re married, I’ve finally found what I’ve been desiring for the last three years.”

  “I’m curious about something,” Emily said. “Exactly why did you go through all of this just to end up with me?”

  “You don’t listen much, do you?” he asked with a smirk on his face.