“As long as you didn’t get down there and decide to be Preston Wilcox’s sexual fool for the week.”
“Yuck! Why so negative, bestie? Did you not have a good time at Color Con?”
I heard her take a deep breath. “I am being negative. I apologize. I had a fabulous time at Color Con, and we’ll talk about it right after you remind me all about this man you met. Sorry about being so mean. I’m just still a little bit mad at you for going radio silent while you’re in a foreign country by yourself.”
“I’m sorry, too. You’re right. I have been texting my daddy to check up on him and how his ankle is healing, but I haven’t texted you. It’s so stereotypical to drop your friends the minute you start getting good dick.”
“You’re getting good dick?” She was yelling again. “From Spencer? Tell me everything!”
And so, I did. We talked for over an hour while I put together my surprise for Spencer. After she finished telling me about her time at Color Con, we ended our phone call. I texted Spencer and asked him to meet in the lobby. Luckily, I made it down there before him. Before he arrived, I was able to retrieve the package I’d requested from the concierge and stuff it into the basket I was carrying.
After a long hug and a kiss on the lips, Spencer’s eyes immediately zeroed in on what was in my hands. “What’s in the basket?”
“Ambience. Come on.” I took his hand in mine and led him out the lobby doors, into the front of the resort.
“Where are we going?”
“To dinner.”
“How are we getting there? Am I driving?”
I gazed up at him. “Did you know that this resort has two complimentary, chauffeur-driven Mini Coopers that are available to guests? They will take you anywhere on the island within a ten-mile radius of the resort. All you have to do isreserve your time.” I led him to the pretty, teal-green car that waited for us at the curb. “You ready?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Yeah.”
I had the driver drop us off at Liberty Park. It had been suggested by the concierge as a beautiful, green space with views of the water. I chose a table not far from the shoreline, set my basket on the bench, and started to unpack it. Once the table was covered with a tablecloth, I brought out candle holders, candles, wine glasses, and a two-liter bottle of lemon-lime soft drink.
Passing him my purse-sized container of hand sanitizer, I spoke. “So, I had some time on my hands after I finished working. I spent it chatting with the concierge.” I pulled out food as I continued to tell him about my day. “I mentioned that my gentleman friend?—”
“Your gentleman friend? That’s me, huh? You got me out here sounding like a seventy-three-year-old man.”
We both chuckled. Then I continued. “I mentioned to her that my gentleman friend’s family is from Martinique and how he loves something called Chicken Colombo. Well, she called over one of the bellmen, who also happens to be Martinican. Did I say that right?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Good. Anyway, I was talking to him, and he told me his favorite place on the island of Iredia to get authentic Martinique food. He also gave me suggestions on what to get.” I reached back into the basket, naming items as I brought them to the table. “We have Chicken Colombo, Feroce d’avocat, and accras de morue. I apologize ’cause I know I butchered the names.”
He looked at the three containers on the table, then back at me with what I could only classify as . . . affection in his brown eyes. “Damn. Are you even serious right now?” He took the lid off the Chicken Colombo and smelled it. “Oh, shit. This smells like the real thing.”
I took out some paper plates and disposable silverware that had come with the food. “Well, help yourself.”
He spooned some of the chicken dish on both of our plates. “What made you do this, Sun?”
“You.” I shrugged my shoulders. “You surprised me with crab cakes yesterday because you remembered they’re my favorite food. I felt that same should recognize same. You pay attention and care about the things I tell you. I want you to know that I’m on that same ish.” I giggled.
“I wanna kiss you so fucking bad, but this food is stealing all my attention.”
I waved him off. “Let’s pray so you can go ’head and eat your food. There will be plenty of time and plenty of places to kiss me later.”
His eyes met mine over the table as he took my hands and blessed the food. “I’mma hold you to that shit about kissing you everywhere, Sun.”
While he fixed our plates, I lit the candles, but the breeze from the ocean kept blowing them out. Instead, I poured the pop into our glasses. I sat down and listened to him describe the dishes to me with love, then I tried them.
“Ooh, this Colombo is good. I thought it was gonna be spicy, but it’s not.”
“Flavorful doesn’t have to mean spicy. Besides, the colonizers of Martinique were French. They aren’t known for spicy food.”
“True.”
