My body fills with a mix of dread and excitement.
“Scared?” he asks, teasingly.
“Did you forget the way I felt on that plane?”
“I don’t think I can forget that one.”
I scoff. “Well, this definitely beats my vacation agenda tenfold.”
Othello laughs, and we both pull the silver dome covers from our plates. Layers of fluffy pancakes with blueberries stacked in between them, tropical fruit, and eggs Benedict topped with a creamy sauce are neatly arranged on a porcelain plate.
“This looks amazing.”
“It does. Shall we?” Othello offers.
Why yes, yes, we shall.
For a moment we say nothing, indulging in the food, the pancakes melting like butter in my mouth. “You know,” I mumble around another bite of berries and fluffy bread. “I hate that I’m enjoying all these luxuries and you’re not.”
“How am I not?”
“I mean the couch situation. You’re sleeping on a sofa while I have that big comfy bed all to myself.”
He laughs. “I’m good. Trust me. It’s all about you feeling comfortable.”
“I don’t feel comfortable knowing you’re sleeping on the couch.”
“So, what are you saying? I get to sleep in the bed with you?”
“With pillows stacked between us, but yes.”
He seems pleased, stuffing his mouth with more food before saying, “Well, I appreciate it, Ms. Jacobs. But I promise you, I would have been fine on the couch.”
“You can’t be serious. When you feel how comfy that mattress is, you’ll change your mind.”
He shakes his head with a laugh. “I assure you, it would have been okay. But trust me, I’m not turning it down.”
I give him an incredulous look. “I would hope not. Why would you do a thing like that?”
“Because when you’re happy, you smile. And your smile does something reckless to me.”
The last thing I want to do after that comment is smile, but I can’t help myself. One slips out before I can stop it.
A sleek blackMercedes picks us up promptly at 10:30 in front of the resort. We are whisked away through the beautiful island, my mouth hanging open as I take in the sheer beauty that is Maui. Beautiful isn’t even enough to describe how amazing this place is.
The driver takes us through paved roads that eventually narrow, curving along cliffs and dipping into a tropical forest until we turn onto a private gravel drive lined with tall grass. Ahead, in a wide clearing, sits a bright red helicopter, its blades still, sunlight glinting off the windshield.
My stomach drops and flips at the same time.
A short woman with a jet-black bob stands nearby. I assume she is our pilot. The headset resting around her neck and the utility jumpsuit give it away. She offers us an easy smile as we step out of the car.
“Good morning, I’m Kim. Welcome.”
We greet her and shake hands.
“Are you nervous?” she asks me.
“Is it that obvious?” I laugh nervously.
