Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  We got a good start on it that day, that was for sure. By the time the sun had shifted across the sky and late afternoon came around, we’d signed off on another three or four rounds of pina coladas and earned ourselves a decent pink hue that would either deepen to a sunburn or turn to a tan by the next morning.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked. “We could go change for dinner. I’m going to want a shower.”

  “Definitely,” Emma said. We gathered our magazines, iPods, and the resort’s towels and returned to our suite. My journalistic eye was strong and I was noticing the details of this resort and how it stood out from almost every other place I’d vacationed. Emma had heard about this place from someone at her work, and, so far, it was extremely impressive.

  Everyone who stayed at the resort stayed in a suite; there were no small rooms. The resort was enormous and encompassed nearly the entire island, which was less than a mile across. Because it was an island and the resort so large, nearly every room had an ocean view. There were some so-called garden rooms, for people who thought the waves might awaken them, but the vast majority overlooked the ocean. Our room was on the ninth floor. It had three rooms: a sitting room and two bedrooms. The bathroom was off the sitting room, and the sitting room also contained a small kitchenette. While Emma showered, I sat outside on the balcony and watched people walk along the beach. There were some runners, some late afternoon sun bathers, and, of course, couples walking hand in hand waiting for the sun to set.

  After I showered, I put on a light sundress I’d bought for the trip. I towel dried my hair and noticed that the sun had already begun to bring some highlights to the copper. I’d been growing out my hair for ages, and it was now several inches past my shoulders. Though I usually wore it up for work, tonight I opted to let it flow over my shoulders. I clipped it up on one side, put on a small bit of make up to accentuate the blue of my eyes, and I called it good.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked Emma.

  “Definitely,” she said. She had worn a dress as well, and, as we walked down to dinner, I knew we looked absolutely amazing. I hadn’t seen many single guys running around the resort; it seemed to be more of a honeymoon destination place… but I could always hope. It had been ages since I’d had a date or been with a guy. My last relationship seemed like a hundred years ago, even though we had just broken up about a year ago. I was twenty-five and decent looking, curvy, I’d been told, in all the right places and none of the wrong ones, and I was ready to get back out into the field.

  “I wonder if there will be any cute guys at the bar,” Emma said, echoing my own thoughts.

  “I hope so,” I said. We walked into the restaurant, which was divided in half. A large bar took up nearly a quarter of the space, and bar stools and high top tables surrounded it. On the other half of the room, a more formal dining atmosphere, as formal as anything got in Belize, took up the rest of the space. The bar, because it was open to the beach and ocean, didn’t have the same luxury feel as the rooms; it was far more locally decorated. The furniture was made of bamboo and wood, and palm fronds decorated most of the walls.

  We sat at one of the tables, and, within a minute, a server wearing the same uniform as the one who had brought us our cocktails on the beach brought us menus. Everything on the menu looked good, so we ordered some traditional Belizean fare and, of course, a couple of cocktails.

  “Ladies, would you mind if we joined you?” I looked up and saw not one but two absolutely gorgeous men standing next to our table. “All of the other tables are taken, and we’re starving.” The blond man was speaking, and his friend, with black hair, stood next to him.

  “Sure!” Emma said brightly. She moved over and motioned for me to do the same. The blonde sat next to me, while his friend sat next to Emma. Their names were Tom and Marty, and they were celebrating Tom’s graduation from med school. I thought Emma’s eyes were going to pop right out of her head when he said that, and I burst out laughing.

  “What?” Marty, the one with black hair, said to me.

  “Nothing,” I said, feeling Emma kick me lightly under the table, which only made me laugh more. I’d had enough cocktails during the day to think most anything was funny, but this was absolutely hilarious. “Emma and I are just really glad that all of the tables were full!” I grinned, flirting with Marty the best I could. It was obvious that Emma had claimed Dr. Tom.

  “Well, we’re going to buy you ladies some drinks in exchange for letting us sit with you and completely interrupt your evening,” Tom said.

  “That’s okay!” Emma said brightly.

  “Emma, let the men buy us some drinks,” I said, and we all laughed again.

  The entire night was like that: nonstop laughter. We sat at the table well into the night, talking and laughing, telling stories that weren’t even funny but sent us all into gales of laughter anyway. It was as though we’d known each other for ages. Finally, the temperature cooled down enough to drive Emma and I back toward our room.

  “Are you guys going to be around tomorrow?” Emma asked as we all made our way from the restaurant to the elevator.

  “We’re going to go on a scuba expedition that’s going to take most of the day,” Tom said. “We’re heading to the blue hole. But I think we’ll be back by dinner?”

  “I think so,” Marty said. “If you don’t mind, we may crash your table again.”

  “I don’t think we’d mind at all,” I said. “I’d love to hear about the dive. Emma, too, right?” I nudged her and she dissolved into giggles.

  “Goodnight!” Emma called, waving as the elevator arrived. “See you tomorrow!”

  “Come on, drunky,” I said, dragging Emma into the elevator.

  As the elevator doors closed, I happened to look over toward the front desk. A man stood there, watching us get into the elevator. He looked like he was frowning. The last thing I remembered before slipping into bed and to sleep for the night was hoping we weren’t going to get yelled at by security… then I drifted off.

  Brad

  I woke up and, for a moment, wasn’t sure of where I was. Call it an occupational hazard. Owning one of the largest, most luxurious hotel resort chains in the world meant I did a lot of traveling and, often, woke up not sure of where I was or even what time zone I was in. This morning, the sound of the ocean eliminated at least twenty-five percent of my properties. I opened my eyes and looked around the room, my eyes settling in on one of the paintings on the wall: a picture of the big blue hole, the most popular scuba diving destination off the coast of Belize. I smiled and got out of bed, had breakfast, read the paper, and then traveled downstairs to begin my rounds.

  It was my routine every morning after breakfast to spend at least two hours walking around my property. Though I wasn’t in town as often as I liked, I’d developed what I considered to be a good reputation with the locals of Belize. Foreigners like myself weren’t always welcome, but I had made it a priority to give jobs to as many local residents as I could.

  “Good morning, Mr. White,” my secretary, Anna said. She greeted me as I was about halfway down the beach.

  “Good morning, Anna,” I said. “How does the day look?”

  “It’s fairly full, Sir,” she said. “But, a call just came in wondering if you have time for a meeting at four o’clock. You didn’t have anything scheduled, so I blocked out the time. The caller was rather… insistent.”

  At this, I stopped walking and turned to Anna. “Who was it?” I asked.

  “A Mister Brown, Sir, from Columbia.”

  I nodded, not allowing the rapid increase of my heart rate to show. “Yes, Anna, that’s fine. That was good judgment on your part. Thank you.”

  Anna ran through the rest of my schedule, but I barely heard it. I went through the day in body only; my mind was on my upcoming phone call with Mr. Brown, whose first name was Manuel. Manuel Brown only called meetings when something urgent was at hand; I had followed his orders to the letter the last time we’d spoken, and I h
ad no idea why he was calling this soon.

  After my morning walk, I returned to the office and followed the schedule Anna had set for me. We were in process of expanding properties into the Middle East, a project that was fraught with difficulties, but would, ultimately, be worth the effort.

  My phone rang promptly at four o’clock. I stood and walked to the glass doors that opened onto my balcony.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Hello, Bradley,” Manuel said. He always addressed me by my full name.

  “What do you need, Manuel?” I asked. “I met all of your demands the last time you called.”

  “Yes, you did very well. We were pleased. I’m calling today to let you know that we will need a new property to work with in Central America. You are in Belize at the moment, is that correct?”

  My stomach squeezed. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Manuel knew exactly where I was. The GPS technology he had access to likely could have told him my exact location anywhere on the Earth at any time.

  “I am,” I said.

  “Expect a delivery in the next few days,” he said. “You will need to prepare a space. Underground is best.”

  “Storage or active work?” I asked.

  “Storage,” he said. “A shipment about the size of what was sent to Turkey will be arriving.”

  I thought about Turkey, and how the landscape had afforded the luxury of underground storage.

  “You understand I’m on an island here,” I said. “Creating a basement isn’t really an option.”

  “That’s not really my problem,” Manuel said, imitating my voice. “Get it done.”

  He hung up the phone. I stood where I was for a moment, thinking of all of the choices I’d made, some smart, most poor, that had led me to this place. I sighed. I had learned early on not to disobey Manuel Brown. I couldn’t build a basement, but I would find the space for the shipment as he directed, there was no question about that.

  I walked down to the restaurant. It was happy hour, and I wanted both a drink and the opportunity to check in on how the guests were enjoying their vacations. I never interrupted the guests directly; I didn’t need to. My employees were experts at reading what the guests needed and wanted, and they had my full permission to make things happen. Tonight, everyone seemed happy. We had several honeymooning couples, and they had all been provided with champagne and a complimentary dinner.

  My eyes scanned the crowd and settled on a group of four, two women and two men. The men I recognized; they were part of a scuba group that had been staying with us for over a week. The women didn’t look familiar. As I moved closer to get a better look, the redhead caught my eye. She was stunning. Her hair was a dark copper and it moved in the light as she laughed, which she was doing often. Her eyes, a brilliant light blue, seemed too blue to be real, yet I somehow knew they were.

  “That table,” I said to my bartender. “The two women with the divers… who are they?”

  “Ah,” Sammy said. “That’s Miss Cassie and Miss Emma. Miss Cassie is the one with red hair; Miss Emma is the blonde. They just arrived this morning from the States. They’re here for a week. Beautiful women.”

  I looked sharply at Sammy, and he shrugged. I smiled. “That they are, Sammy. What are they drinking?”

  “Pina coladas, Sir.”

  “Send four over on the house. Don’t tell them, just leave them off the bill.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Sammy said.

  I stood back and kept my eye on Cassie. I made a note to check her reservation information. She was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. As the night wore on, I continued to pass by the restaurant. If Cassie went to the gentlemen’s room, I wouldn’t be surprised. At nearly midnight, the party broke up and the four walked, still laughing, toward the elevator. I held my breath as they said good night. No kissing, no drunken feel ups. They said good night and the women left in the elevator while the men returned to the bar for another round. I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and I turned to walk back to my own suite. I had thinking to do; I had to figure out how to create an underground storage facility before the shipment arrived.

  Cassie

  “We should go get some lunch,” Emma said. “I’m flat out starving.”

  I hung up the room phone and smiled. “Guess who just landed an interview with the owner of the resort?”

  “Seriously?” Emma gasped.

  “Crazy, right? He happens to be here this week. Originally, his secretary or whoever said he was too busy, but she just called back and said that he’d agreed to do a twenty minute interview with me tomorrow morning before he leaves. I can’t believe it!”

  “Your boss is gonna shit himself,” Emma said, shaking her head.

  “Right?” I stood up. “Speaking of phone calls, have you heard from the good doctor yet this morning?” I could tell from Emma’s immediate blush that she had.

  “Maybe,” she said. “It’s possible he texted me before they left for the dive this morning.”

  “Get him, girl,” I said.

  “What about you and Marty?” she asked.

  I shrugged. By the light of day, I knew that Marty wouldn’t be more than a casual vacation encounter, if that. He lived in California, and I was in no mood to enter another doomed-to-fail long distance relationship.

  “I’m not really here to hook up, I guess. I thought maybe, but… it just doesn’t seem right with him.”

  “It’s good practice for your job, I guess,” Emma shrugged. Then, she grinned. “And it means more men for me! Just as long as you’re still willing to come out with us tonight?”

  “Of course!” I said. “I had a blast last night; I wouldn’t miss it.”

  We finished getting ready and then hit the beach for day two of our vacation. I’d brought my iPad with me to read, but every time I tried to focus on my novel, all I could think about was my upcoming interview with the owner of Legacy. I knew very little about him, since I hadn’t done research on him prior to our arrival here. I knew plenty about Legacy; everyone did. It was an international chain of luxury hotels and resorts, and they existed in every major country in the world. Every year it was near the top of the Fortune 500 list. Though the owner was American, one of the things that distinguished the Legacy chain from others of its type was that the hotels worked hard to sustain the local economy by hiring locals as employees and using local produce and materials to build and run the hotel. Because of this, Legacy had never run into issues with acceptance from the local communities.

  I knew I wanted to ask some questions about this. I also wanted to ask questions about the owner’s personal life. I envisioned him to be in his sixties, probably attractive, distinguished. Definitely filthy rich. I thought about what kinds of questions I could ask… and I kept coming up blank. I knew I’d need to come up with a few before the next day.

  Emma pulled me out of my concentration with a cocktail, and we clinked glasses.

  “Your first interview question needs to be to get their pina colada recipe, I swear to God,” Emma said dreamily as she sipped her drink.

  “I think it’s the local fruit. It’s so damn fresh and good,” I said, trying to sip my drink slowly enough so I didn’t end up with an ice cream headache. “What time is it?”

  It was getting closer to late-afternoon, and we decided to go back to the room and get ready for dinner. I opted for another sundress, but this time I remembered a wrap to keep myself warm. I dried my hair and tonight decided to wear it up. I swept my hair up off my neck and twisted it, then closed a hair clip over it. I thought wearing my hair up made me look older, more sophisticated, and it went well with the dress I was wearing that night, a strapless silk sundress that was primarily white, but also had some streaks of a salmon color running through it. Both colors accentuated my tan and my skin glowed. I smiled; there was something about a vacation that made me both look and feel sexier than I could ever feel in my day to day life.

  We walked do
wn to the restaurant for dinner and looked for Tom and Marty, but they weren’t there. We found two spots at the bar and had dinner. Tonight I opted for a burger and fries, again, something I would never have in my day to day life… vacation gave me permission for all sorts of fun.

  Our server cleared our plates and we opted for another round of cocktails as our dessert. We’d just clinked glasses when I heard a voice in my ear. “Where’s your boyfriend?” I looked at Emma, whose eyes were wide, then I looked to the source of the voice. Directly next to me, his hot breath in my face, was an obviously drunk man. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Is your boyfriend here tonight?”

  I shrugged him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said firmly, “and don’t touch me.”

  “Ohhhh,” the man exaggerated putting his hands back. “Tough crowd. Playing hard to get, huh? I saw you with your boyfriend last night, you weren’t playing so hard to get then.” He leaned in closer to me. “Come on, give us a kiss…”

  “Get the fuck out of here!” I yelled, standing up and moving beside Emma.

  “Is there a problem, ladies?” The bartender, Sammy, came over right away when he heard me yell.

  “This guy is being a complete creep,” Emma said, pointing at the drunk man. “Plus, he’s loaded.”

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Sammy said. “How about if you find yourself somewhere else to be tonight, pal.” He came around to our side of the bar and stood next to the man, flexing both his muscles and his height.

  “Whatever,” the man slurred. “Bitches flaunt it then can’t handle it when a man gives them some attention.”

  “Out!” Sammy roared. By the time we had the attention of the entire bar, and I felt myself blushing like crazy. The drunk man left the bar, swaying and tripping as he made his exit. “Ladies,” Sammy said, “you have my most sincere apologies for that spectacle. Are you both all right?”

  “Of course,” I said. “We’re New Yorkers.” I winked at him as if that should answer the question, but Sammy wasn’t persuaded.