by Jo Watson
“What!” I started walking up the staircase and emerged into absolute paradise.
I found myself standing on a large wooden deck with a brilliant blue plunge pool in the center. Tall palm trees grew next to the villa, their huge leaves stretching out over the deck, giving you the illusion that you might actually be in the middle of the jungle.
“This is amazing.” I walked up to the edge and looked over. Another villa stood next to this one, but you could barely see it tucked behind all the green foliage. “Is that another room?” I pointed across the deck. “How many rooms does this place have?”
“Just the two.” Chris was smiling at me.
“This suite is enormous. It’s bigger than where I live.” I bent down and felt the water; it was so warm. I wouldn’t be able to afford a room like this if I saved up my entire salary for the next year. “I’m officially impressed, you must be a very good writer.”
“I try,” he said, before adding, “although I may not be able to afford this again when I’m an out-of-work screenwriter in two weeks’ time.”
“I’m sure something will inspire you. How could you not be inspired by this?”
“I hope so.” I could hear the worry in his voice. He glanced down at the pool suspiciously, like it was a snake hiding in the grass that could strike at any second. He really did hate water. No wonder he hadn’t been up here.
“Well, it’s time for me to go back to my little hovel. Think of me while I’m slumming it.” I slipped back down the stairs and Chris followed.
“Do you think you’ll survive the night, Annie Anne?”
“I’m not sure. It will be very touch-and-go.” I walked out of his room onto the wraparound veranda and stopped. I turned around.
Chris was leaning against the doorway and smiled at me. Slowly. And then it happened again, only this time I knew exactly what it was. It was not the sunburn or the residual rum overload. It was totally unexpected, but completely familiar.
My stomach flipped. A rush of warmth started in my face and crept all the way down to my toes. Something inside me glowed and flickered. My lips sprung into a smile that I couldn’t help and my thoughts went all fuzzy.
“You know what…I like you, Annie.”
Damn, double fuzzy, extra flickery, and flippy.
“What?” I tried not to gush.
“You’re not like the girls I usually meet.”
“You’re not like the guys I usually meet, either.” I tried to hold back the massive smile that was threatening to rip my face wide open.
“I had fun tonight.” His voice had gone a little whispery again. Had someone suddenly turned up the thermostat?
“We should hang out again tomorrow. If you want?” he asked.
“Yes.” That sounded way too eager. Reel it in, Annie. “I mean…that would be cool.”
And then without thinking, as if I was guided by something instinctual, I walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. He smelled good. His hand came up momentarily and touched my arm and then dropped back to his side.
“Night, Annie Anne.” He started closing the door and I was about to walk away, but didn’t.
“Why am I not like the girls you usually meet?” I asked tentatively.
Chris raised a brow as if my question had caught him off guard, and I was gripped by a sudden rush of crampy-panic. I shouldn’t have asked that; maybe he’d just said it to be nice. Like Disaster Date Guy’s “I’ll call you sometime.”
“Never mind. It was a dumb question.” I started making my escape again.
“Because you’re funny, without trying to be.” He said it so loudly that I stopped. “You’re a little bit weird, too, in a good way.”
“I’m not weird.” I swung around and faced him again.
“Of course, sorry, I made a mistake, or not, or whatever, or something or nothing, et cetera.” He was trying, but he couldn’t keep a smile from forming.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Point taken.”
“In movies there are different types of heroines, archetypes, and you’re the best kind.”
“What kind is that?”
“The Plucky Girl, the Girl Next Door.”
“Plucky? That doesn’t sound great.” It sounded somewhat chicken-y.
“No. It is.” Chris took a big step toward me. “Trust me. That’s the best kind. It’s the kind I like to write. The kind the hero always falls for in the end.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s where you’re very wrong.”
“It’s true. You just haven’t found the right hero yet. Because when you do, the Annie character will beat all the others hands down.”
“Why?”
“Because Annie is the interesting one. The one that lights up the screen with her smile. The one that everyone in the room gravitates toward. The one that wins your heart. She’s the forever girl.”
“Okay. Wow. Okay. I see.” Words fell out of my mouth like water through a sieve. A mad rush of emotion overwhelmed me. My breath caught in my throat and I realized I was actually close to tears, I could feel them stinging my eyes. “For a nonromantic guy, you really know what to say to a girl. Thank you.”
Something inside me was telling me to run up and hug him, but my legs were having none of it and they forced me to turn and walk away without looking back.
That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. Ever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I woke up bright and early that morning, despite the late night, and found my mind drifting to thoughts of Chris almost immediately. I couldn’t stop replaying the things he’d said about me, and I’d been on a kind of buzzy cloud nine ever since. They awakened something inside me that I hadn’t felt in ages, not since Trevv anyway.
Confidence. Slight, but there. I was the plucky girl after all. The forever girl.
I made myself a cup of coffee and took it outside to the patio. I had a few messages on my phone from Lilly and Jane confirming that they were starting to feel better. I answered the messages and then put the phone away. The world around me hadn’t woken up yet. The sea was still and smooth as a piece of polished marble. There was no breeze and everything looked like it had been frozen in time, as if in some kind of suspended animation. The sun was already warm and the air already thick and humid. I took a deep breath, breathing in the calm and tranquility of my surroundings. I felt happy. For the first time in ages.
In fact, I was more than happy. I was full of the sunny, tropical joys of the day; nothing was going to spoil my mood, that is, until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
How was it possible that I was even redder than yesterday? The skin on my shoulders was already starting to peel, making me look like a scaly amphibian. I moaned loudly and mentally scolded myself for yesterday’s stupidity. Today there would be absolutely no activities that involved the sun! So with that in mind, I marched to the reception desk to see what UV-free activities I could book…Hopefully Chris would join me.
But as I walked up to the counter and was just about to ring the bell for service—
I suddenly I felt it.
An intense burning sensation.
As if someone had harnessed the sun’s rays with a magnifying glass and was attempting to burn a hole through my already burned back.
And just like the time I’d slipped my keys into my front door and instinctively known something was wrong…I knew now that something was very, very wrong.
I froze, refusing to turn around. Instead I focused all my attention and energy onto the piece of carved wooden art hanging on the wall in front of me.
But the burning only intensified until it was almost unbearable.
“Yo, gurlfriend.” I looked up and saw Chris coming toward me, and I’d never been so happy to see someone in my entire life.
“Sssshhhhh.” I slapped my finger over my lips. “Quick, come here.”
Chris slid up to me with a curious look. “Why are we being conspiratorial? Are you planning on stealing that piec
e of art you’ve been staring at? Personally it’s not really my taste. Maybe a big tropical painting of a parrot or something.”
“Shh. This is serious. I need to ask you something—”
“No we didn’t have sex last night.”
“What?”
“Although you did flirt outrageously. But I was a real gentleman and controlled myself.”
“Now is not the time to be funny! I need you to look behind me and tell me if you see a couple. He has dark hair and she has the perfect body with legs that seem to—”
At the mention of that, Chris looked. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. Amazing legs. That has got to be one of the hottest chicks I’ve ever seen.”
Oh hello, painful pang of jealousy! “Thanks for that. Rub it in, why don’t you.”
“Sorry,” Chris said sort of flippantly before adding, “she does look a lot like Megan Fox, though, doesn’t she?”
“Jesus—can you stop already!” I gave him a smack on the arm. “So they’re there?”
“Well, if you’re referring to the good-looking couple who look like they need to get a room then yes, they’re here.”
Panic.
“Shit, shit, fuck, shitballs from hell.”
Chris laughed, “That’s original.”
“It’s them.” I gave Chris a meaningful, knowing look, and his eyes instantly widened in absolute shock.
“No! You’re kidding…it’s Tress in the flesh? The chances of that are like, one hundred and twenty to one.”
“That’s specific.”
“That’s how many hotels there are on this island.”
“Are you sure it’s them?” I asked in a whisper.
“No, I’m not. I don’t know what they look like. Why don’t you just turn around and look for yourself?”
My skin crawled at the thought. “No. I can’t. But I need to be sure it’s them.”
“Okay, I’ll take a photo of them.”
Chris broke away and walked across the room, whistling some nondescript tune, his way of looking casual I guess…Not working. Out of the far corner of my eye I could see that he was taking photos of an arbitrary palm tree, with an occasional “Mmmm” thrown in for good measure. And then when he had it, he dashed back to me.
“Here, is this them?” he asked, holding out his phone.
My heart climbed up my esophagus and lodged itself in my throat. I wanted to throw up.
“Yes.”
And then Chris burst out laughing. Way, way too loudly.
I slapped him on the arm. “I’m glad you’re finding this so flippin’ funny,” I hissed at him, trying to keep my voice down so as not to draw any more unnecessary attention to us.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but think about it. Out of all the hotels on the whole island, all the possible dates on the calendar. This has got to be the craziest coincidence in the history of humankind. You couldn’t make this shit up. Now this, this, is a great story line for a movie—” A strange look washed over Chris’s face.
“Excuse me, but my life is not some movie for your entertainment. This is real. And it’s a real fucking problem,” I protested and slapped him on the arm again.
Chris put his hand up. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“What am I going to do?” Panic had officially gripped me and was twisting me into knots.
“Why don’t you just turn around, say a quick ‘hi,’ and get it over with? Otherwise you’re going to be dodging them for the next seven days.”
“I can’t.” I put my head in my hands. It felt like it was going to explode. And this day started out so well!
“I’m here for you. And afterward, I’ll take you for a strong drink.” I felt a reassuring hand on my back. But it wasn’t helping.
“Do you know how pathetic I look right now?” I looked up at Chris. “On holiday on my own. No Boyden in sight, I might add. Just lonely old spinster me and my sunburn to keep me company. I would hate him to get satisfaction out of this.” I hung my head in what was becoming such a familiar feeling of embarrassment. My brain raced, trying to figure a way out of this. “Unless I tell him that he couldn’t come—why would my boyfriend not be able to come on vacation? Or, I could tell him that we broke up—he’d still get satisfaction out of that.” Smarmy, smuggy, egotistical, white-toothy satisfaction. I hated him!
“I’m getting out of here.” I started half moonwalking, half crab walking my way out of the room. Past the reception desk, past the sofa, I was almost at the door when…
“Anne?” It was Trevv’s voice and it was too late.
“Anne, is that you?” He genuinely sounded happy to see me. Lawyers are such good actors. They should have an Academy Awards ceremony just for them. “My client is innocent of this crime, Your Honor.”
Deep breath in, and in three, two, one…
“Trevv, Tess!” I turned around to face them. My enemies. “What a surprise!” (I’d almost called them Tress.) I gushed nervously and it definitely sounded fake. I was no lawyer, and certainly no actress.
“It is you. Are you staying here?” Trevv asked with that familiar sickly sweetness. I glanced over at Tess. She looked gorgeous, as usual. Suddenly the image of her thrashing about wildly as she screamed her way through an orgasm flashed through my mind.
“Mmmm. Yes.” I think I threw up in my mouth a bit.
“What a coincidence.” Tess piped up now. “You look great. Really greeeaaaatt.”
What a bitch. She knew I didn’t look great. I had a bright sunglasses tan across my face and my once-pale legs were the color of blood. Anyone could see I was anything but great.
“Thanks, you too.” Now I really threw up in my mouth. Why had I said that?
“So, are you here with your boyfriend, what was his name again?” Trevv asked with a pleased tone. I’m pretty sure he knew I wasn’t dating anyone. He was just trying to rub salt in the wound. As if it wasn’t already seasoned enough.
“Uh…,” I stammered, “well actually, we…that is to say that I’m here…um…” I’d lost it. I was tanking. I was in free fall. Mayday! Mayday! I was going down. I was about to crash and burn and there was no one there to save me. But then…
“She’s with me. G’day, mate!”
I stared in shock as Chris suddenly muscled in and started shaking Trevv’s hand. “I’m Boyden, nice to meet you, mate. The blokes call me Boyd, though.” I didn’t know whether to burst out laughing, or cringe at the Australian accent he was putting on.
And then he slid his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.
The look on Trevv’s face was priceless. I know him, and the idea that he had one up on me—because I was still single and had lied about having a boyfriend—was something he enjoyed. It was the ultimate ego boost…“Poor Anne, she still hasn’t moved on. Must be hard getting over me. So hard she had to conjure up fantasy boyfriends.”
And then that slimy lawyer look washed over his face again.
“Boyd?” Trevv said with that smarmy inflection of his. “I’m Trevv. Double ‘v.’ Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Chris said. “And that’s Boyden with a silent ‘h’ by the way.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing while Trevv-Double-V stared at Chris with a confused expression.
“Interesting accent. Where you from again?” he challenged Chris.
“Born and bred in the outback of Ozzie, mate!”
“Well then, ‘throw another shrimp on the barbie’ as they say there.” Trevv and Tess burst out laughing at his ridiculous joke. Had he always been this cheesy?
“So what do you do, mate?” Trevv mocked.
Wow! No pleasantries. No “How are you?” or anything like that. Just straight into the dick-swinging contest.
“Check out how big my manly member is. It’s about as large as my bank account—hahahaha! I am so handsome and successful and rich and hung like a donkey on steroids.”
“I’m a writer,” Chris said with confidence.<
br />
“Aaaah”—that sounded very patronizing—“unpredictable work, isn’t it? Not very regular? Don’t really know where your next paycheck is coming from, hey?”
“Um…I guess you could say that in a way.” Chris seemed genuinely confused by his question.
Trevv nodded. “I shouldn’t imagine there’s much stability in that game.”
I hate it when people use the word game in reference to work. I could see Chris getting genuinely peeved, so I decided to jump in. “Boyd writes movies.”
“Oh yeah?” A competitive streak flashed in Trevv’s eyes as if I’d just challenged him to a duel. Or Chris had revealed his secret extra inch and a half. “Didn’t know they made movies Down Under.” Trevv gave a wicked-sounding chuckle. “What kind of movies?’
“Mainly romantic comedies.” Chris was acting very nonchalant now, as if he was the coolest person on the planet. In my eyes, he was.
“Really?” Trevv looked amused. “I thought only women wrote those types of things with those soppy romance-y endings.” He nudged Tess in the ribs, making no attempt to hide his mirth.
Chris’s expression changed, too. Suddenly he looked pissed. “There are some female writers but—”
Trevv cut him off again. “Just pulling your leg, buddy. But seriously, Tess and I don’t watch many rom-coms. Not really our thing, hey, babe?”
Tess smiled and nodded. “Not our thing,” she repeated like she was a robot programmed to repeat everything Trevv said. A drop-dead-gorgeous robot.
“We usually watch more serious stuff. You know, movies with depth, don’t we, baby?”
She nodded again. “And a lot of legal dramas, too,” Tess added with a flutter of her long eyelashes. I wanted to rip them from her eye sockets.
“But each to his own I guess.” Trevv forced a laugh and Tess joined in. God, they were disgusting.
I could feel Chris squirming next to me. But there was no reprieve; Trevv continued like a bulldozer demolishing an entire city block.
“So do you scuba, Boyd?”
“Scuba? No, not really.”
“Tennis?”
“Never been good at ball sports.”
“Aaahhh.” Extra patronizing. “That’s a pity. So no golf then?”