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Head on a swivel, I admire the enormous space. Gold, cream, and coral accents are artfully painted in seashell shapes along the walls, and a massive fountain of Poseidon battling a fish nearly the same size as he is resides front and center of the check-in counter.
“Welcome, welcome!” the concierge says as I approach. “May I take your suitcase, ma’am?”
Years of etiquette classes have perfected the finely groomed manners now sliding off my tongue. “Thank you, sir. I certainly appreciate your offer.”
The older gentleman with sun-wrinkled skin and thin white hair smiles before rolling my belongings behind the desk.
Once we’re finished with the finer details, he opens a pamphlet and points to The Grand Topican on a map of Topica Bay.
“You’re here, three miles from downtown Tauntuma. Because it’s the most populated area on the island, this is where most of the tourists like to stay.” His bony finger slides over the map, giving me a brief introduction of the island.
“Keerah is the second largest city, but it’s two hours away by bridge. Augustine is where you’ll find our farming community. Not much to do out that way, but perfect for a little rest and relaxation.”
I smile at his deepening wrinkles when he winks.
“You’re free to use any of the amenities, and if you need to exchange any of your US currency for Topican dollars, you may do so at the ATM located on the opposite side of the lobby. If you have any questions at all, Miss Harris, do not hesitate to ring.”
It takes maximum effort not to sprint toward the shiny cylindrical elevator. Instead, I take three calming breaths before discreetly snapping a few photos to send to Coraline.
Landed in paradise. Wish you were here.
Three little message bubbles pop up almost immediately.
You lucky bitch. Check your Venmo. I sent you margarita money. xoxo
A second later, the app pings with a fifteen-dollar deposit.
I smile, firing back a thank-you before stepping onto the elevator and pushing the little round button for the thirtieth floor.
“Oh my God.”
Like a landing strip created just for me, rows of pink and orange flower bouquets line the hall leading to my suit. A rush of excitement has me hastily pressing my key against the lock, watching in awe as the double doors automatically retract.
I squeal, hopping from one foot to the other while biting the tip of the room card.
Daylight floods through one long stretch of glass taking up nearly the entire far wall. A set of automatic shutters are retracted at the top of the massive window, and a twin set resides just above the sliding door beside it, which leads out to the balcony.
Leaving my suitcase beside the navy accented king-sized bed, I kick off my shoes and curl my toes into the plush cream carpet before exploring the rest of the space.
First, I open the balcony doors and pad across concrete to the railing. My belly drops at seeing how high I am. Two pools in the shape of dolphins sparkle below, creating a yin-yang twist with a lazy river circling them.
I snap another pic and send it to Cor, smiling wide when a GIF of a woman fanning herself pops up.
After heading back inside, I glide my fingers over the white marble counter of the wet bar until they meet a sleek black Bluetooth speaker. Today’s Top Hits begins playing from my phone as I snag a bottle of champagne and rip into the foil surrounding the cork.
“Please enjoy your stay,” I read from the fancy printed label stuck to the bottle. “Oh, I intend to.”
Shaking my ass to the music, I take a long pull from the bottle, smack my lips on anahh,and spin for the kitchen. It makes up a quarter of the entire space, and while impressive with its fancy espresso machine and full-sized appliances, I’m eyeing the luxurious garden tub waiting for me inside the gleaming white bathroom.
“Nowthat’swhat I’m talking about.”
Half an hour later, I’m in the back of a cab with my Jimmys on my feet, freshly shaved and fitted into a body-hugging red dress.
Sweat pools between my lotioned thighs, making a suction noise as I recross my legs.
Mother never did like when I wore dresses this tight.
“You should really size up, darling,” she’d say of my hourglass figure. Not because she felt I was overweight, but more because it wasn’t proper for a lady to show off her body with fabric that hugged every curve like a lover.
