Provocative Paradise: A Secret Stranger Romance Read online

  Julie had a few French Fries in her mouth as she said, “I was doing some research on this place before we came, and there are all kinds of theories on whether or not there is hidden treasure in some of the caves.”

  “Hidden treasure?! Sounds like people have been watching too many pirate movies.” I dipped a fry in some catsup.

  “No, seriously. Look.” Julie showed me her phone and there was a message board called Paradise Island Treasure Hunters.

  “That’s crazy. Well, I bet every tourist that comes here wishes they could find treasure. They’re not going to lead us into a cave that has treasure, though. It wouldn’t be very hidden by now.”

  “Hey, you never know. I know I could use some extra bucks, and now that you’re unemployed...”

  “Don’t remind me! I’m not ready to think about that yet. Let’s get ready for the Welcome Party.” I couldn’t help but hope that maybe Angry Hot Guy would be there.

  After putting our dishes outside the door, I went into my room to put on some clothes for the party.

  ***

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” Julie walked out of her bedroom and looked at me with a horrified look on her face.

  I looked at the mirror next to the dining table. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  Julie walked over to the mirror. “First, this jacket looks like you’re going to teach a class in Economics.” She pulled off my beige sport coat.

  “Second, this ponytail thing makes you look like a jockey getting ready to mount her horse.” She pulled out my ponytail and fluffed up my hair.

  “Third, those shoes look like you work in a surgery suite. Give me those.”

  Reluctantly, I handed over the Crocs I was wearing and weakly said, “I love those shoes. They’re comfortable.”

  “Exactly. Remember what Mom always said. Beauty is pain. Finally, why aren’t you wearing any makeup? You literally look like a ‘before’ photo in a plastic surgeon’s office.” Grabbing me by the hand, she dragged me into her own bathroom. It was a messy array of various beauty products. Makeup, hair gel and mousse. Perfumes and lotions.

  Surveying it all, I marveled, “How did you get all of this on the plane?”

  “Careful packing, my sister.” Reaching for the half-consumed glass of white wine on the counter, she said, ‘Here. Drink this while I make you look like an adult woman instead of a college freshman.”

  Taking a sip, I laughed and said, “You’re brutal!”

  I sipped the wine and she turned me away from the mirror and got to work. Brushing and fluffing and smoothing and blending for fifteen minutes, I felt a little bit like a movie star. This wasn’t my normal thing. Julie was always the one with the makeup and fancy clothes.

  “Okay. Are you ready to see the new Jenny?” Putting her hands on either shoulder, Julie turned me around to see my reflection.

  “Whoa.” Oh my god. I don’t even look like me. “How did you do this? I look...”

  “Beautiful. You look beautiful, Jenny. You ARE.” Julie had a proud look on her face.

  Julie had filled in my eyebrows, lined my blue eyes with this color that made them stand out like an eye shadow commercial. She’d applied foundation and some powder to cover my freckles. Blush and contour had created high cheekbones with a touch of color. And, she had gone for a soft lip, with a light pink gloss that made my mouth look pouty and, yes, sexy.

  “Wow. Jules. You should be doing this for a living. Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome. Now, go borrow a pair of my shoes. Those black strappy heels.”

  Following her instruction, I went into a closet that was as huge as the one in my room. Somehow, Julie had managed to practically fill the whole thing! “You mean the ones next to the red ones?”

  “Yes. And, for your information, there are some condoms in the silver bag on that shelf.”

  “Condoms! Good lord, Julie. What do you think I am going to be doing tonight?” I couldn’t believe Julie had brought condoms on the trip.

  “You know what Mom always said.”

  “Better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them.” Yeah, yeah. I know. But, still. There was no way I was having sex tonight.

  I went into the living room, leaving Julie to finish getting ready for the Welcome Party herself. I figured I’d check voicemails and we’d be ready to go in about ten minutes

  Suddenly from the other room I heard Julie shout. “Have you seen my Ambien?” When I went into her room, I found Julie digging around in her luggage. “You know I can’t sleep without it!”

  I did know. After Mom died, Julie stayed with me for a couple of weeks, and Julie had been walking around at all hours of the night from insomnia. I finally took her to a doctor who had prescribed some medication. But that was forever ago and I had no idea she was still using it.

  It was definitely time to start weaning off the medicine, but this trip wasn’t the time to do that. No matter how private your room is, three weeks in the Bahamas was going to be a very long time if your roommate isn’t sleeping.

  “Are you sure you packed it?” I started to help Julie look. “Did you check your purse?”

  “I thought I did!” Julie was emptying out the contents of her purse. “I wonder if they confiscated it at the airport. Or stole it...” She was in the beginning of a full-blown panic attack.

  “Don’t freak out, Julie. Let me head downstairs and see if there is a pharmacy nearby. Maybe we can get your doctor to email over a prescription.”

  “Okay. I sure hope I find it. I can’t imagine trying to sleep without it at this point. I’m going to stay up here and look through everything again. Finding this stuff is far more important than going to any party.”

  Looking at the clock, I realized that it was almost 7:00 pm. I doubted that any pharmacy would be open, but maybe there was a gift shop or something where I could get Julie some NyQuil to help her sleep tonight.

  I grabbed my purse to head downstairs and found myself feeling a little irritated at Julie. Here we were in paradise, and instead of heading down to the pool, I was headed down to try and find a pharmacy because Julie hadn’t brought her sleeping pills.

  But, then I realized that this was the first thing that hadn’t gone right all day. All things considered, it was not a big deal at all.

  Chapter Six Liam: Days and Confused

  I opened my eyes and for the life of me couldn’t figure out where I was. It was pitch black in the room, and I couldn’t tell if it was late night or early morning. Plus, there was some machine making white noise ocean sounds. Wait. That’s not a machine making ocean sounds. That’s the actual ocean.

  The memories started coming back. I was in the Bahamas. At that retreat. I recalled booking the ticket, half drunk from the Chevas. Messaging Helen. Shoving everything in the backpack. Missing the flight, the problem with the room.

  But as I laid here, on the soft mattress, listening to the ocean waves crashing on the rocks, I realized one important thing. This is the first time I have actually slept since the accident.

  Feeling around on the bed to try and locate my phone, I seemed to recall leaving it plugged in on the desk in the living room area of the cottage. I’d been so exhausted by the time I finally got to the bungalow that I’d just plugged the phone in, stripped off my clothes, and crawled into bed. I had no idea how long I’d been sleeping or what time it was. And then my stomach let out a large rumble and I realized that I also had no idea when I’d eaten last.

  Rubbing my eyes and flinging off the covers, I felt around for a light. Turning the switch on the lamp next to the bed, I blinked my eyes until they got adjusted and got my first good look at the room. The bungalow seemed to be decorated in typical beach furnishings. Wicker everything, Berber carpet, shells and crap everywhere. It wasn’t my taste or style at all, but I also realized that this was a very last minute booking and I was lucky to get a room at all. At least the bed is comfortable.

  I headed toward the
kitchen to see if maybe the fridge had some food in it. I was glad to see a full size fridge and mini-kitchen in the bungalow. Not that I planned to do much cooking. I’m guessing that this is not the norm for the rooms in the main house. This place probably belonged to a caretaker or something at one point.

  Pulling the fridge door open, I wasn’t surprised to only see a box of baking soda. No food or anything to drink. I had to chuckle when I thought that “all inclusive” meant all the baking soda you could use.

  I realized that it might not even be the same day as when I checked in. Who even knew how long I’d been asleep?

  I grabbed my phone and was a little relieved to see that it was still the same day, and it was only 7:30 pm. Maybe the kitchen was still open, or the bar had a late night menu. There was supposed to be a Welcome Party tonight, but I didn’t feel like socializing at all. I definitely needed food, and it really would be a long night with only baking soda water for dinner.

  So I grabbed my jeans off the floor and tugged them on, went back to the bedroom and pulled a black t-shirt on. Running my hand through my hair, I looked tired but acceptable. I was fine just to grab a quick bite.

  Grabbing the keys to the golf cart, I hoped that there would be enough light to find the main house. The moon wasn’t out and I really didn’t feel like driving around in the dark trying to find food.

  ***

  “Can I help you, sir?” A woman approached me as I entered the doors to the Main House. There were quite a few people milling about, in various states of inebriation. I guess the term ‘wellness retreat’ is used a little differently around here. But, if I had my way and got a couple of stiff drinks, I’d soon be one of them.

  “Is the kitchen still open? I’m starving.”

  “No, sir. The kitchen is closed. But the bar is open and you can order from their menu” She gestured to the bar that was located by the stairs. “Or, there is a Welcome Party happening out on the patio.”

  “Thanks.” As with my room, this was the first real chance I’d had to look at the property. Walking across the foyer, I noted that the decor here was much nicer than that of my bungalow. While mine was more “Gilligan’s Island” this was much more like something you’d seen on the Travel Channel. Being an architect, I could always tell a lot about a place by the way it was designed and decorated. This Napur Priyanka person must have thought a lot about how everything was laid out, and the material used. Despite the party vibe near the front door, there was an overall serenity to the retreat. Soothing colors and soft fabrics combined with solid wood floors, walls, and ceilings to offer a feeling of comfort and security. Maybe I will finally be able to move on.

  As soon as I thought that, though, intense waves of guilt flooded my mind. What kind of husband kills his wife and daughter and then wants to “move on?”

  “Can I get a scotch straight up? Neat.” I slid onto the bar stool at the far end, closest to the door. “Actually, make it a double.”

  “You got it.” The bartender slid a menu over. “Will you be wantin’ food?”

  I was hungry. But more than that I wanted to stop feeling. “In a bit. Just the drink for now.”

  The bartender slid the drink over to me and said, “My name’s Jimmy. Just call when you’re ready to order.”

  The scotch burned my throat going down. The pain felt good and I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the hit of relaxation that was sure to follow.

  “Do you know if they’re still serving food?”

  It was a woman’s voice. I reluctantly opened my eyes, and saw two women standing in my personal space. The one who spoke was wearing a low cut, white tank top that revealed cleavage that was clearly crafted from either a surgeon or Victoria’s Secret. The cleavage was attached to a trim figure, and a pretty face with pouty lips that also looked like they’d seen a day or two at the cosmetic surgeon’s office.

  Wordlessly, I slid the menu over to her, and went back to take another large swig of my drink.

  The women sat in the stools right next to me, and began chattering away. Out of the entire bar, why the hell did they need to sit near me?

  I considered moving away from them, and left it as an option if they kept annoying me. But, I was going to be here for three weeks, and didn’t want to get a reputation as being rude.

  ***

  “Oh my god, Kayla. That is so rude!” The woman who was sitting next to Ms. Cleavage (whose name was evidently Kayla) was on her third margarita. She was laughing, and so whatever Kayla said or did couldn’t have been all that rude.

  I kept intending to move away, or hoping they would leave. But I was on my third scotch, and really didn’t have the energy to move. I knew I ought to get some food, but nothing sounded good.

  I lifted my glass to the bartender to indicate that I wanted another. Kayla, who had been giving me the side eye all night long, finally turned to me and giggled, “Looks like we’re drinking buddies. I should at least know your name.”

  No, Kayla. We are most definitely not drinking buddies.

  I smiled politely and shook my head no.

  “Oh c’mon. We haven’t seen you here before tonight, so you must have just gotten in. We can be friendshhh.” She hiccuped a little as she said the word friends, and put her hand up to those overly puffy lips and giggled. “Oops.” She turned to her friend and said, “This is Bobbi Jo, but her friends call her B.J.” They then both burst out laughing.

  Oh god. I think it’s time for me to go.

  The bartender brought my drink, and set down some kind of sandwich wrap. “I didn’t order this...”

  “I know. It’s on me, buddy. You look like you need to keep your wits about you.” He nodded his head to Kayla and B.J.

  “Thanks, Jimmy. I appreciate it.”

  “Hey, mon. It’s the guy code.”

  Taking a big bite of the sandwich, I thought about the guy code. Maybe that’s what I need. Some friends.

  ***

  About half an hour later, but who was keeping track of time out here, I had to admit, the party vibe was making me feel better. Or maybe it’s this rum punch. Whatever it was, my spirits felt a little more lifted. I’d finished the wrap and didn’t want to keep listening to those two chicks, so I’d wandered out to the pool area where the party was going on, and it seemed pretty cool.

  There was a steel drum band, and there were lights strung up over the pool. The other guests were laughing and drinking and eating, and servers were walking around passing out food.

  “Would you like a quinoa bite?”

  Probably not, but I took it anyway. Stuffing it into my mouth, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. In fact, it was even kind of good.

  Just then, I heard familiar voices. Oh god. It’s those women, Kayla and whatsherface. I need to get out of here before they see me.

  I looked around for somewhere safe to go, and quickly headed to the Main House, being sure to grab three or four of those quinoa bites to eat on the way. Those things were surprisingly addictive. Maybe I will become a sober vegan yoga guru after all.

  Ducking back into the bar I figured I’d hide out there until those women found someone else to hit on.

  “Liam, my mon. What de wybe is?” Jimmy was wiping down the well worn bar counter.

  Sliding into the barstool farthest away from the door, I answered, “Just hiding out a bit. Can I get another one of these rum punch things they’re serving out by the pool?” I kind of wanted to ask for the quinoa bites too, but was too embarrassed to actually ask for them. Maybe they’d still have some when I got back out there.

  “You got it, Boss.”

  I was going to have a drink. Get some food. Avoid that Kayla and her friend. And head back to the bungalow. That was the plan. But you know what they say about plans. The best laid plans...

  Chapter Seven Jenny: Mean Girls

  I closed the room to the suite and carefully walked down the hall toward the stairs. It was a lot more challenging than normal because of Julie’s stupid shoe
s. I literally had to hold the railing as I went downstairs so as to not fall. But it was either that or make a grand entrance to the lobby that I didn’t want to make.

  I’d gotten over being irritated with Julie over the whole Ambien situation; largely because I remembered that we were in the Bahamas. It’s pretty hard to be in a bad mood in paradise.

  As soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Julie. “I FOUND THE AMBIEN. TOOK ONE. GOING TO SLEEP.”

  Great. Now I’m down here alone. I was half tempted to skip the party since I felt weird going alone. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep because I’d had that nap. I would just lay there and worry about the whole job situation anyway.

  Besides, I look fabulous. Don’t want to waste it.

  “Maybe I’ll just get a glass of wine or two at the Welcome Party to take the edge off and help me sleep,” I said to no one as I finally got down to the bottom of the stairs safely.

  Turning the corner at the base of the stairs, I noticed the opening to the bar area. As soon as I walked past, who did I see but Angry Hot guy cozied up at the bar with two very obviously drunk blondes? Figures. Guys that look that good can have their pick of any chicks, anywhere.

  I heard them laughing, and the one with the tight white shirt was leaning in really close to Angry Hot Guy. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. It was obvious that the three of them were party buddies. Part of me had been hoping that he was just having a bad day when he acted like that in the lobby. But from the looks of things, he really was a jerk. He’d been here, what, one day, and was already hitting on drunk women at the bar. No, thank you. I’m staying away from that.

  Steering away from the bar, I decided to go sit outside by the pool and hang out watching the people at the Welcome Party. I wasn’t really in the mood to be social, but I did want to absorb the island vibes.

  The pool area was feeling really festive with lights strung over the pool and steel drum music playing. There were servers handing out these delicious quinoa bites and everyone seemed to be drinking this rum drink in tall glasses. I figured, hey, when in paradise, right?