“Yeah, that was it. Trust me, I don’t want you to leave,” I tell her honestly.
Ever.
“The room is big enough for the both of us.”
“True, but you’re sleeping on the couch. On your vacation, I know that has to be annoying.”
“I’m not annoyed. If that’s what it takes for you to be comfortable, then I’m satisfied.”
A beat of silence passes, and I can see the wheels in her head turning before she says, “I won’t take too long.”
I watch her leave, then look at the sofa, which is really more of a loveseat.
“It’s just me, you, and blue balls tonight, buddy.”
24
from above
MARLEY
I wakeup to the sun rising. I don’t think I will ever get over this view. It’s so serene and peaceful watching Mother Nature do her thing.
For once, my mind isn’t racing ahead of me, and I take a moment to enjoy the solitude. The night before was something I didn’t even know I needed. And it felt good sharing that moment with Othello.
There is a knock at the door, snapping me out of my thoughts. Who the hell could that be?
I hear Othello’s manly footsteps heading to the door as I get up. I wonder how long he’s been awake. I reach for my robe, tying it tight around my waist as I step from the bedroom and into the living room, watching Othello’s strong back flex as he peeks through the peephole.
Damn, this man is fine.
He pulls the door open, and Pika is standing there with a small rolling tray. There are two polished stainless-steel plates topped with silver cloches, along with a matching pitcher. Inbetween them is a beautiful arrangement of flowers and a thick cream envelope.
“Good morning,” Pika greets.
“Hey, Pika. What is all this?” I gasp in confusion.
“Delivery from Collette Randolph.” He walks into the room, rolling the tray inside with him. He sets everything on the balcony table, including the flowers and the envelope.
“Enjoy,” he says and leaves just as fast as he came.
“What did we do to deserve this?” Othello asks, pulling out a chair and motioning for me to take a seat at the bistro table. I do, and he sits in the seat across from me, both of us staring at everything in wonder.
“Should we open the card first?” I ask.
“Yeah, be my guest.”
I pick up the wax-sealed envelope and slide my finger beneath the flap. I unfold the card inside and read it out loud.
Marley & Othello,
The island is best seen from above. Enjoy breakfast and meet your driver outside at 10:30 a.m.
— Collette
“From above?”
“A helicopter tour, maybe?” Othello wonders.
