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CHAPTERTHREE
Kate
For all the times Futuro Airlines has deboarded in Topica Bay, I’ve never actually gotten off the plane. It’s always:Enjoy your stay… Have a nice trip… See you next time!Then we’re waiting at the airport for the layover to pass or the plane to refuel, and off we go, jet setting away from paradise.
As predicted, it took a little persuading to get Santa Cruz to agree to let me off work. But thanks to Coraline’s Christmas party insight, he not only approved my requested two weeks but insisted I take an extra week as well.
Being sardined between two strangers in a rundown shuttle car was not my ideal start to this vacation, but as a limousine-only type of gal, I get a tiny amount of satisfaction knowing the conniption it would give my mother.
“Sorry,” I say to the six-foot giant in the seat beside me.
My elbow bumps his rotund belly with every dip and hollow in the gravel road as our driver leads us to the heart of Tauntuma.
A low rumble vibrates from the equally large man on the other side of me.
I peek up at his dark, emotionless face. “First time on the island?”
He growls this time, following the sound with a lip curling sneer.
“Right.” I tuck my arms by my sides, folding my fidgeting fingers beneath my sweating legs.
“Is this your stop?” the driver asks with a thick, rolling accent. His salt-and pepper-hair is in disarray, and I’m deciding if the flow of his words resembles something close to Spanish or not when my jaw pops open.
Through the space between the giant man’s belly and the visible window, a massive hotel comes into view.
“Yes! God, yes. This is me.”
Rivulets of sweat drip down his plump face when he squeaks the cab door open. His brow raises—as inonelone brow because where two would normally reside, his have merged into one furry unit.
Scrunching my nose, I scramble my way over his lap, certain I’ve given them a generous view of my ass, and out toward fresh island air.
You’re welcome for the show, guys.
Once my pearlescent Jimmy Choos hit the gritty pavement, a smile tugs my cheeks. I take a nice deep inhale, smelling the sweet scent of freedom.
My blue chiffon dress exposes my arms and legs to the beating rays of the Topican sun as the driver removes my small carry-on from the trunk.
Packing light was a challenge, but it was worth it to keep Mom from getting suspicious. I live by the motto that as long as I have my phone, wallet, and ID, anything else can be bought.
The driver places his hands on his hips once he closes the trunk. “Hey, lady. You gonna pay, or what?”
“Oh, yes.” Shoving my hand into the hidden pocket of my dress, I produce the last of my American dollars. “Is this okay?”
Old eyes examine the bills he’s taken from me before flicking up warily.
I frown. “I’m not sure where to—”
“You can exchange money in there,” he says, cutting me off.
I follow his finger to the front of the hotel, but when I turn back, he’s already halfway to the driver’s side door.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
Thick exhaust chokes me when the car sputters off down the road. I cough, swatting the air as I take a real good look at where I’ll be staying.
I squint at the gold swirls delicately painted over the enormous white building. The Grand Topican is one of the nicest resorts on the island. It’s also one of the most expensive—but I’ve come prepared.
My heels click along the paved drive as I all but skip through the glass doors leading into the main lobby. Giant white pillars support the carport just in front of the entrance, which is teaming with families and people dressed in various forms of business casual.
