by Lexy Timms
Everything was white and accented with gold. Great towering windowpanes and skylights illuminated the entire room that was so chic and so beautiful that Leslie let out a squeal with the other girls as they looked at the enormous suite. There was a huge living room, a fully appointed kitchen and dining room, along with a huge bathroom that was larger than Leslie’s apartment and each of them had rooms larger than their floor in New York.
“Is it good enough for you?” Charlene asked, smiling at their reactions to the enormous suite.
“It’s incredible,” Amber said, hugging her. “If you’re ever off or on a break, please come up and visit us. Our casa is your casa.”
“Almost nailed it,” Charlene laughed. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not into girl-somes. I’ll see you ladies around. Have a great time.”
The girls burst out laughing when the door closed.
Leslie shook her head. “We did set ourselves up for that one. We each have the same boyfriend?”
“You’re the writer,” Josie scoffed, and giggled. “You started the train of thought. We just had to keep going with it. It’s our boyfriend treating us this weekend. Even here you feel the need to keep it a secret?”
“Better safe than sorry.” Leslie shrugged and winked.
Their bags were all set up in a pile by the entrance. The sudden silence in the room became an actual presence that was hard to ignore. It felt so potent and powerful that Leslie felt like she couldn’t make a sound as she looked at the other girls, all of them smiling and trying their hardest not to burst out laughing with excitement.
Closing her eyes and dropping her head back, Leslie screamed. Amber and Josie immediately joined in.
This was going to be the holiday of a lifetime.
What happens here, stays here.
Suddenly Leslie couldn’t stop the excitement rushing through her veins.
Chapter 7
It took a couple hours and a bottle of champagne before they were done exploring their entire suite. Their laughter didn’t stop. None of them knew what to do with all the beautiful and expensive stuff that was just lying around. Any of the decorations, if they just stuffed them into their bags and made their way back to New York, would be enough to pay their rent. It was so ludicrous and wonderful at the same time Leslie had no idea what to make of it all. Neither did her roomies.
While they were all lying on the bed that was marked as Leslie’s, they ate from the fully stocked fridge and cupboards, munching on cookies and chips while they downed tiny bottles of alcohol, now that the champagne was gone. There was so much that they could do and it was so fascinatingly fabulous around them that they just sort of lay there, basking in the brilliance of it all.
“I’ve never spent this much money,” Leslie confessed to them, grinning at the sudden splurge. “Like, I’ve never spent anything close to this on something that wasn’t a debt or a living expense.”
“Wow,” Amber said, shrugging and sinking into the plush bed. “I’d be poor and in debt if I paid for just my own holiday here. Thank you for taking us.”
“That’s the difference between you two,” Josie cut Leslie off from replying. “The difference between me and you is that I’d never have this much money in the first place. And you, Leslie,” she said, pointing in circles and giggling, “I’d have written one book and been done with it. There’s no way I’d have that much writing in me.”
“You’re an awesome artist, Josie,” Amber chided. “As soon as the right person sees it, you’re going to be loaded like Leslie.” She sighed. “But me, I’d be exactly where I am now. I’m not artistic or unique in that way. I work at a bar. Yeah, I’m good at it, but what’s the future in it for me? A cougar bar in twenty years?”
“No,” Leslie shook her head. “You’ve got crazy people skills, Amber. And Josie, you are talented. I got lucky. And then unlucky.” She thought about Michael and guiltily tried to push thoughts of him away. She needed this weekend without him. She sighed. “What good is money if you don’t ever spend it? I’m glad you two decided to come with me, or I’d just hang out on this bed the entire time.”
Amber giggled. “Alone? Or in the company of some seriously hot male?”
“Speaking of which,” Josie said, jumping up off the bed, “where are we going for dinner? There’s like a billion places to eat here and I say that we make the most of it. We should eat at all of them. And find a hot guy at each of them!”
“How do you mix bed and food?” Leslie burst out laughing and pushed herself off the bed.
“Ugh,” Amber growled nauseatedly. “All I’ve been able to smell since we got off the plane is the ocean. If I’m eating seafood, it better be deep fried and in a taco.”
“Great,” Josie grinned. “Leslie? Do you want fish tacos?”
“Who doesn’t?” In California, Michael and she would–-No! She refused to let nostalgia and the memory of Michael plague her for the entire vacation. She was going to create new memories on this trip. There was no time for sadness and sorrow.
“Then it’s settled.” Josie tossed the menu aside.
“Now we just have to figure out what we’re going to wear,” Amber groaned.
She was right. For the next hour, it was an unending fashion show, trying on all the clothing they had blown an exorbitant amount of money on that Leslie wouldn’t even notice in her bank account. In fact, this entire adventure wasn’t even going to dent her account. It was something that she didn’t want to tell the others.
Nevertheless, it was more an hour before they settled on what it was that they were going to wear, and then began the whole process of getting ready to actually present themselves to the world that was living here on this perfect island. The goal was to look sexy and fierce at the same time. There were beautiful women and men all around them. They wanted to stand out just a little, which was going to be a lot more difficult than they thought. This was the island of the cougars, trophy wives, mistresses, and the heiresses of the world. When they left the suite, they walked to the elevator, feeling like they had a fighting chance.
The bar was alluring, but it was always going to be there. That was the place they would go when they wanted to head back to the room, but weren’t sure if they were ready to call it a night.
Leslie peeked up at the enormous skylight that illuminated the glitzy bar and restaurant. A man seated at the bar drew her attention. He wore flip flops, khaki pants, and a button-down mauve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was undoubtedly the kind of man who took care of himself, just from his frame and build. Josie pulled her so she didn’t have time to inspect him further. His image was ingrained on her mind. He sat alone, leaning over his drink while the people around him mingled and were excited about the exotic world around them. He was the one person there sitting sad and depressed.
“Come on, Leslie!” Amber grabbed her hand and pulled her to catch up with Josie.
“Sorry.” Leslie glanced back one more time at the bar. She couldn’t see the handsome sad stranger anymore.
The girls found a restaurant a short walk away, and sat down to have a meal. Josie and Amber were immediately watching and giggling as men from the bar were already looking at them.
Leslie stared down at her plate, amazed at how easily the other two girls at the table reacted and flirted with looks or smiles. She felt like she was in high school again, and had no idea how to catch a guy’s attention. Nor was she sure she really wanted one. She didn’t feel like she was sexy. It didn’t help that she found something wrong with every guy there. One either had a big nose, was too much of a douche when he came up to talk with them, or another was too short. There was a reason for every one of them not to work for her.
They couldn’t eat their dinner in peace without guys coming up and introducing themselves, asking them what their plans were for their holiday at the resort. Amber and Josie kept the trail of men entertained, laughing, drinking, and chatting with each one. Whenever the discussion was tossed at Leslie, sh
e felt herself fumbling or just passing on it all together with a shrug. Eventually, their interest went back to where it was always going in the first place. They would talk to Amber, whose breasts were large, her perfectly sculpted abs showing off as she laughed. She looked like a sweet, slutty angel. Josie wore a short dress that hugged her lithe and petite body, making them drool over wanting to run their hands along the fabric of the dress to feel just how firm and perfect her body really was. Her artistic nature captivated the men also.
As for Leslie, she was just the shy auburn-haired girl eating her tacos and enjoying them a little too much when she should have been paying attention to the conversation and drinks flowing at the table.
“Josie, you want to go dancing?” a guy name Brody asked her, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a club here that plays the best Caribbean dance music you’ll ever hear. It’s all live, not that kind of DJ’d electronic shit you see at the other clubs. I think you’ll like it a lot.”
“Sure,” Josie said, looking at the other two and shrugging as she stood up and followed the handsome man to go dancing.
Leslie’s gut reaction was to give her pepper spray, just in case he turned out to be the biggest creep in the world, but she giggled as she realized the panicked little writer inside of her was overreacting. He was probably a perfectly normal guy who wasn’t actually interested in raping and killing her.
“Amber, let me get you another drink,” Mikhail, the handsome model, said, pushing back his own platinum locks as he held out his hand for her. No doubt all the guys decided that this was the time to start carving up the trio and surprise, surprise, no one wanted to end up with her.
Amber looked at Leslie, no doubt guilty about abandoning her friend, but clearly wanting to go with the German hunk offering to get her wasted, one of the things Amber truly excelled at. She was like Marion, drinking all the natives under the table without even batting an eye.
“Go ahead,” Leslie said to her, waving her hand to brush off the guilt Amber was feeling. “These tacos aren’t sitting very well with me. I think I’m going to call it an early night and hit everything bright and early tomorrow.” She was lying, but Amber didn’t need to know that.
They were the magic words that released Amber from her bond to Leslie. She jumped up and walked with Mikhail, out of the restaurant to some other bar where Mikhail had no doubt picked up some other woman the previous night.
Again, Leslie had to resist the urge to give out pepper spray.
Sitting alone in the Mexican restaurant, she saw couples tucked away in the corners of the cavernous room. They were all dwelling just in the dim lighting and the shadows of the festive room, enjoying each other’s company, staring into each other’s eyes, and having the time of their lives, just the two of them.
It wasn’t nostalgia that hit Leslie as she was looking at them. The sad fact that sank into her mind was that she didn’t know how to have that anymore. How did one flirt after love had left and you knew you would never find it again?
She thanked the waiter as he came to clear the table, and she finished the glass of wine she’d been nursing. She needed something stronger.
“Face it, Leslie,” she mumbled to herself. Like the characters in her novels, she forced herself to come clean on what the problem really was. She didn’t know how to get the one thing she wanted more than anything in her life right now, which was the interweaving of fingers, the gazing into another’s eyes, and slipping so gleefully into the embrace of another, never looking back. She was a romantic and she longed to have what she was giving Tiffany Black and all the other characters in her books.
Yet she didn’t feel like she was the author of her own stories. It felt like she was the victim being dragged through a boring string of events, enjoying the comforts of life, and risking nothing at all. In fact, she was worse than the most boring character she had ever written. Sure, she believed she was in charge of her life and that she was capable of doing greater things, but not the way she was living.
She didn’t need a soulmate; she’d had Michael and lost him. But she did want to be touched. To feel the warm breath of a man against her bare skin, him touching her and driving her mad. The heat only sex could give.
It wouldn’t happen if she kept her standards ridiculously high. That was why she’d told Grant she needed somewhere quiet, and hot. He knew what she meant. No man tonight met her standards. She was just sitting back and wanting the world to throw the perfect man into her life.
Sure, Josie and Amber weren’t going to find a man here who was going to give them the romance to end all other romances, but at least they were looking and they were embracing the excitement all around them. They were diving in.
Why couldn’t she?
Leslie was hot. Men would tell her just how hot she was all the time. She lived in New York after all, not that their standards were great. She would get checked out at the gym and she would get cat calls when she walked to the grocery store in her Lululemon pants. It wasn’t like she was even trying then. If she’d actually try… She sighed. As she looked down at her empty glass resting on her knee, she noticed her smooth muscular legs and perky cleavage, knowing she had missed the opportunity all because she had been apathetic. Lost in the past. Lost in nothing.
She’d done it to herself. No one else to blame. She stood and made her way through the resort, walking slowly as she pulled off her heels and looked at everyone around her having the adventurous fun that she was passing by.
Tomorrow, she would wake up and try harder.
The staff smiled at her, and from the front desk Charlene beamed and waved at her with such excitement and cheery attitude that it almost felt contagious. But by the time Leslie made it to the elevator and swiped her platinum card, she had lost all of it. She was fully depressed.
“I’m never going to find love,” she told the camera in the elevator. “That ship has sailed.”
When the elevator doors opened, she trudged down the hallway, letting her shoulders shrug and not giving a care in the world. She didn’t care if someone saw her and thought that she was the saddest little girl in the whole resort. She could see the suite at the end of the hallway and knew that she should have brought her sweats. This was the perfect night to crawl into them, sink into bed, and watch Netflix until she cried herself to sleep. Of course that wasn’t an option, because the only comfortable clothes that she had brought was her underwear, bikinis, and workout clothes for the gym. Something inside of her told her that she wasn’t going to get off that easily.
Of course there was always the bar, which she inevitably stumbled into. She made her way past the happy, joyful people who were beginning to really rub her the wrong way and plopped her shoes on the top of the bar before dropping down on a luxurious stool that felt like it was hugging her butt before the bartender approached her, all brawny and gorgeous.
“What’ll it be?” he asked in a way that made her grimace in disgust.
“Gin and tonic,” she said with a shrug. “With a lime.” Please.
“You got it, beautiful.” He winked at her and went to work.
Leslie wanted to reach over the bar counter and punch him in the face. She’d kill him off in her next book.
She glanced down the bar and noticed the handsome stranger from earlier was still there, a few glasses around him, one bottle of beer, and a single glass of what looked like bourbon with a mint leaf in it sitting in front of him.
Now that’s a sight I can work with. Just the glasses. That was enough for her to start an entire story—an entire narrative. Who was this guy and who broke his heart? She grinned slightly and looked up at the man’s face and froze.
Those cheekbones, that jaw line, those incredible lips, and that unspeakably handsome chin. All of it was so familiar that she felt like she was looking at a picture she’d memorized a long time ago. He was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. His short hair was spiked in the front, not in a harsh way, but a soft, fluffy wav
e of hair. He was making a weak attempt at hiding his identity, which didn’t make sense since there were like a dozen other more famous people in this bar and restaurant right now, mingling by the starlight overhead and the dim lighting that filled the room and the pool.
Oh shit!
She knew exactly who the beautiful man was.
Chapter 8
She had never thought she would meet Conrad Dane in the flesh, but right here, sitting at the bar a few seats from her, clearly nursing the wound of his lost ex, sat the gorgeous hunk of flesh. She could feel a tingling in the air, something electric.
It was one of those intersections of fate that seemed way too coincidental to trust. She glanced at her image in the mirror behind the bar and absently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She thought about Amber, who was probably sticking her tongue down the throat of some sexy German while Josie was grinding up against some ridiculously rich and young stockbroker. They were out there living life and doing what they wanted to hunt down the thrilling excitement of love and adventure while she was letting yet another opportunity slip by. She should get off this stool and actually do something that was bold and daring.
After she finished her drink, she would do it.
Or maybe after the next.
Nope.
She stayed put on the stool.
Eventually, the rich and the famous along with their entourage of guests, friends, and partners made their way out of the bar, the hours dwindling away, and it was later than Leslie thought as she polished off her third or fourth gin and tonic—now with a lemon slice.
She glanced around behind her, realizing she was now alone with Conrad and the bartender.
“It’s my break,” the bartender said to her with a charming smile. “You need anything before I step out?”
