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“Wine?”
“Only one.” He pours.
“Here’s to old friends.”
We clink, and I hope that he’s serious about that. “So, no more ghosting when I’m back home.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Lil.” He takes my hand in his, and it suddenly feels very serious. I pull back and take another sip of my wine.
“How often do you see Grammy?” he asks out of the blue, although I’m grateful for the rescue.
“Most weeks, I suppose. If I can’t visit, I call her. Why don’t you visit her?” I ask back.
“I make sure she’s okay. And I do visit. I’m not around as much as you, and we both know you’re her favourite anyway.” I smile because it’s true.
“Well, maybe if you visited more, you could turn the tables.” I think about her for a moment. “She’s a wonderful lady. So full of life.”
“She is.”
“Why doesn’t she travel or do anything else that would befit a wealthy older woman? Cruise, lavish train excursions, that kind of thing?”
“She didn’t want that. She’s got her house, her health, and her garden. I know Dad had a hard time getting her to accept any of his money or support.”
That sounds like Margo.
“I do appreciate you taking the time to visit her,” Liam says rather seriously.
“Well, she was as much a part of our lives as you were. All your family were.” I won’t say the rest of the sentence because we both know what I left out. Liam and I should have been the perfect couple to bridge the family. But no.
The starters arrive, and I’m famished. We eat between a few stolen glances at each other.
“More wine?” Liam picks up the bottle and moves to pour.
“No, thanks. I’m not going to go through a hangover again.” I put my hand over my glass, stopping him from topping it up.
The conversation over the rest of dinner is easier like something has finally shifted between us, and the flow is back. We talk a little about Eric and Miriam, about Liam’s family, the films he’s watched recently, and why I bought the smallest ever tube of sunscreen with me.
It feels good.
Dangerous.
Hand in hand, we take a lap of the silent grounds.
“Don’t you just want to dive in?” he asks as we skirt around the pool.
“No. Of course not.” But it’s a lie. The twinkling candlelight, the pool lights, and the mirror-perfect surface all scream to be messed with. Maybe it’s my inner child speaking.
“Liar. Come on. I want to show you my room.”
“Oh, original line, Ford.” I laugh at him.
“You seem to like my lines, Lil.” Heat rushes to my cheeks at his comment, which is crazy considering what happened on the boat today.
Liam leads us to a part of the hotel I’ve not explored yet. It’s at the far end, completely away from where the rest of the rooms are.
“Here we are.” He opens the door, and I step inside.
“Wow, and I thought my suite was luxurious.” I look around at the acres of space. It’s like a whole apartment. Everything looks so sumptuous and extravagant. I can see similar themes to my room, but this has been dialled up a hundred percent.
