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The dog responded with a loud snore.
I hadn’t even contemplated dating since Kim broke up with me during my rehabilitation. Who could blame her? I was angry, depressed, and bitter, and I’d taken out my feelings on my girlfriend. She didn’t deserve that. But there was no going back, only forward, as Dr. Gillian liked to remind me. I’m not sure why, but the loneliness had been hitting me extra hard lately. Adopting Buddy helped, but it wasn’t the same as having a partner. Maybe it was because it was late summer, and I kept seeing all these happy couples at the resort, enjoying romantic dinners, and frolicking at the pool during the day while cozying up by the fire pits when the temperature dropped at night. Guess in a moment of weakness I’d done the only thing I could think of—signed up as a date for hire. I rationalized it by thinking I could make some extra cash to help fund my dream of opening my own farm-to-table eatery one day. Never mind that I’d used my brother’s photo and details. What woman would want to hire me if she saw what I really looked like? Probably none.
“I can’t believe this thing actually worked,” I muttered, picking my phone back up again. Oddly enough, the woman had specified that I would be acting as her date for her sister’s wedding to take place right here at Hillcrest. Since I’d used my brother’s address, she’d even agreed to arrange for a plane ticket. Well, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Thankfully she wasn’t expecting me to arrive until the day before the event, so hopefully that would give me time to figure out a way out of this. Either that, or I’d have a lot of explaining to do. I still hadn’t received any information about the woman who had hired me. Apparently, the site was still uploading all her details. I logged back into the app to see if the information was there yet. Sure enough, there was a notification signaling that her profile was complete. I clicked on it.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, making Buddy yelp in fright. “I’m sorry, boy,” I said as he hastened over, his toenails clicking on the hardwood floor. I gave him a few scratches behind the ears and let him lick my hand before I turned back to my phone in shock.
It was none other than Dani Lane. The supermodel. The app required signing a confidentiality agreement, which I supposed would make it attractive for those in the biz, since they could be sure their secret would be kept safe. But now my problem was even worse! It wasn’t just any woman I’d catfished, it was a stunningly beautiful, famous one. One who I’d had a crush on since first seeing her picture.
An image of an envelope began to blink in the app, indicating an unread message. I opened the email—
Dani:Hi Ace, this is Dani. I’m booking your flight arrangements now and will send you the e-ticket. Thank you again for your willingness to be my date for my sister’s wedding. I’m looking forward to meeting you. Maybe we can text here and there ahead of time? I understand you’re an actor.
I hit the reply button.
Ace:Hi Dani, pleasure’s all mine. My current gig should wrap up before your sister’s wedding, and then I’ll have a few days off before rehearsals start for an off-Broadway show. Anyway, happy to help you out. Here’s my number.
Best,
Ace
After typing in my phone number, I powered the phone off and reached for the light switch, my mind churning with a strange mix of excitement and dread. I fell asleep half-hoping I’d wake up to find the whole thing had been a dream. If not, I’d need an act of God to figure out what to do next.
Chapter Three
Dani
I rubbed my eyes and stretched in the semi-darkness, then snuggled back underneath the light quilt that topped the vintage wrought-iron bed in my private bungalow. I’d gotten to the resort late last night and after being shown to my cottage, I’d crawled under the covers of the huge four-poster and fallen asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.
I peeled an eye open and glanced at the clock on the bedside table—6.30 am. I’d always been an early bird, waking up at dawn’s first light, and today was no exception despite the comfortable mattress and perfect quietude. From the map of the resort I’d been given upon check-in, I’d learned that Hillcrest was comprised of a main building that contained reception and administrative offices, as well as several retail boutiques, banquet halls, the spa and exercise facilities, and the Palm &Pine restaurant. Guests could also stay in rooms located on the ten floors that rose above the main hotel. The resort’s swimming pool was directly behind the main building, along with a casual bar and grill. A boardwalk led from there down to the beach and the waterfront.
The resort also consisted of a number of private bungalows that were larger and offered more privacy than the rooms in the main hotel. Paved walkways led from each cottage to the main building, which had reminded me of the 3D solar system I’d made out of Styrofoam as a science project in elementary school. I was thankful I’d opted for a private cottage, especially given my circumstances. The last thing I wanted was to spend even more time around happy couples when I was dealing with not only the loss of my relationship, but also my tenuous career, which was hanging by a thread unless I could morph my body into a size 0 overnight. There was only so much time that I’d be able to put on a brave face before crumbling.
The first rays of dawn were beginning to stream through the thin space between the curtains over my window. I got up and pulled the cord to draw them open, then padded back to the bed and snuggled underneath the blanket again to take everything in slowly now that I was awake. A short partition containing a gas fireplace separated the bedroom from the sitting area and a latch-hook rug covered the birchwood floor. A glass-topped coffee table had a base that looked like it had been hewn from an enormous tree trunk. A blue and white Afghan lay over the back of an ivory upholstered sofa, and a wooden rocking chair standing in one corner looked like it had been carved by hand. The walls featured paintings of ships and maritime life, while bookshelves were stacked with hardbackantique books. Crystal bowls filled with colorful seashell and rock collections had been placed around the room, adding to the nautical theme. An eye-catching ship-in-a-bottle sat on top of one of the distressed bedside tables.
Jessie and Steven certainly had good taste—this was the perfect destination spot for a wedding. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep, I finally pulled aside the covers and rose with a yawn. In the closet I found two sets of white slippers, and I slipped my feet into a pair gratefully before making my way to the bathroom. Eyeing the claw-foot tub and luxurious organic bath products no doubt provided by the spa, I promised myself a long soak later, maybe before or after dinner. Right now, my stomach was grumbling, and I needed my morning cup of coffee. I hopped into the shower, and once refreshed, dressed quickly, choosing a pair of white capris, peach-colored twinset, and espadrilles. After giving my locks a quick blow-dry, and dabbing my nose with a bit of powder, I declared myself ready for the day. It was Wednesday, and I had the whole day to myself before Ace was scheduled to arrive the following afternoon. The wedding festivities would begin with the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, followed by the ceremony and reception, and conclude with Sunday brunch.
I walked over to the shiny oak writing desk where I’d dumped my purse after checking-in and grabbed the silver sand dollar keychain that held the key to my cottage. I folded the map and slipped it into my pocket along with the keychain. Once outside, I locked up behind me and then stood for a minute on the doorstep, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, filled with the scents of both land and sea. Wispy white clouds floated through the turquoise blue sky, and I guessed the temperature to be somewhere in the mid-70s, given the cool breeze coming in off the water. In the distance I spotted the sails of ships docked at a nearby marina. The views were simply gorgeous no matter which way I looked, and I enjoyed a leisurely stroll along the winding path through the immaculately maintained grounds to the main hotel.
A smiling uniformed bellman opened one of the heavy doors for me at the entrance, and I walked into the lobby, passing reception, and following the signs down a short hallway to the Palm &Pine.
A young hostess dressed in a white short-sleeved top and black skirt stood behind the podium. The plastic nametag pinned to her blouse readBritney. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and freckles dotted over her pert nose. She smiled and picked up a couple of menus.
“Table for two for breakfast?” she asked brightly.
“Um, table for one,” I replied.
“Oh, okay,” said the young woman. “Sorry, I assumed your husband would be following.”
Squashing my over-arching impulse to trip her, I followed her to a table by the window. A small white vase filled with daisies sat on top. The dining area was almost empty. I figured the majority of guests would probably arrive later in the morning since it was still early. A tired-appearing couple with four fidgeting young children and an infant in a carrier were clustered around a table in the center of the room. One of the little girls with her hair in pigtails suddenly spilled her milk, causing her to promptly burst into tears. The harried mother jumped up, throwing her napkin over the spill, and attempting to console her daughter. She glanced around at the other diners apologetically. An elderly couple nearby smiled over their eggs and toast.
“The all-you-can eat breakfast buffet is included in the cost of your room,” continued Britney cheerily, completely ignoring the child, whose wails were growing into a full-fledged temper fit. “Can I get you something to drink? We have coffee and a variety of teas and juices.”
“Coffee would be perfect, thanks,” I replied.
“Coming right up,” said the perky hostess. “Help yourself to the buffet whenever you want.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen, passing a server coming over with a pitcher of ice water. Wow, the guy was absolutely dreamy. He was probably around my age—mid to late 20’s, with dark wavy hair, a strong jaw, and straight nose. The skin of his right cheek was mottled with bumpy reddish-pink scars. I thought they were probably burn scars, perhaps from a kitchen fire? In any case, his good looks were unmistakable, and his incredible body definitely caught my attention. He must be really dedicated to working out and eating healthy, judging from his muscled torso and the way he filled out his pants in all the right places.
I smiled as he poured ice water into my glass. At first he looked away from me, and I wondered if something was wrong, but then he looked back at smiled. That was odd. His features, even down to the cleft in his chin, reminded me of Ace’s photo on the Rent-a-Date app. But the server—his nametag readBrayden—had darker hair and his form was bulkier. Not a bad thing, in my opinion, the more muscles a guy had, the better. I tore my eyes away from him and took a few sips of the cool liquid. He turned and went to refresh the elderly couple’s glasses. The dining room was filling up as more people were entering and waiting their turn to be seated. I walked over to the buffet, interested to see what was in the steaming trays and get first pick. I took a plate and walked slowly down the line, choosing scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash browns. A tall carousel of delectable-looking bakery items on a cart caught my attention. Unable to resist temptation, I reached in and pulled out a slice of pound cake. As I was turning to head back to my table, I immediately collided with Brayden, who was returning from the kitchen with a fresh pitcher of water. The plate of food slipped from my hands and suddenly my breakfast was everywhere, mostly down the front of my sweater. If I wasn’t mistaken, some scrambled eggs had even slipped down my v-neck and lodged in my bra.
