Island Love
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by CS Bennett
Cover Model: Ouida Robinson
Copyright © 2012
Introduction
One of the most challenging aspects of falling in love is keeping the love alive
The question is, once you’ve unlock the secrets to everlasting love and the promises such a love brings, what do you do when that love is pitted against forces we have little or no earthy influence over? Such forces do exist, though they rarely surface in the arena of love. Drunkenness, abuse, abandonment, and infidelity often reigns supreme but these barriers are surmountable when there is the will to overcome them
But what happens when much greater forces flex their imperial powers, and what chance does your union have of surviving them? What happens when you find yourself in heated battle with the most powerful force of all in a relationship – True Love?
Let’s say Lady Fate intervenes, and uses love as a weapon against you and in a way that turns your whole world upside down, leaving your heart in the worse of ways. It’s true; love is many things to many people but it was never meant to be surly or ruinous in nature, rather joyous, compassionate, uplifting and enlightening.
My novel Island Love is centered on a young, hardworking, and highly dedicated professional who realizes overtime he has had little time for a love interest or social life
In time he finds himself falling deeply in love with a woman of extraordinary beauty, incredible talent, and intelligence who loves him just as deeply. The two make a promise to love one another for all eternity, plus infinity times two.
Unfortunately for these two hopeful lovers, this is where ole Lady Fate steps in.
Follow this young man as he does everything right in his efforts to cultivate an all-encompassing love and everything wrong in his arduous efforts to preserve it.
In pure essence, this stirring novel is about what love is meant to be,
but in most cases can never be
It is about one man’s journey into a vortex of emotions not meant for any one man to suffer or endure. It is about a love so true and so deep that it defies reason
Within these pages lies the most perilous path to love, a path few will ever travel or dare travel for it is written…
Love is not without its broken promises nor is it void of strife or dire consequences
Nor is it fully embraced or realized until one experiences the bitter sweet lessons
of humility, betrayal, grief, and personal sacrifice
Island Love – a novel and a place in the heart where love resides everlasting
CS Bennett
Chapter One
Be careful of what you promise, I thought to myself, holding a glass of fresh homemade lemonade, and sipping at it occasionally. Some you are able to keep, others you just cannot, no matter how good the intent. That’s just the way the chips fall, I concluded as I peered out of the tinted glass window of my office and down onto the wide busy street below. From my posh fifth floor perch I could make out the make and model of every pricey car and custom made SUV cruising slowly by. No one ever raced along AIA in Ft Lauderdale, especially during the college spring break; they cruised by slowly so that they could pause at various intervals to impress some bikini-clad college student or some young and beautiful but bored housewife looking for a little positive reinforcement. Some women, mainly in their mid-thirties and early forties, just had to know before returning home that they could still turn heads with their good looks. For some, a polite compliment or a brief flirtatious conversation was enough to satisfy their egotistical and emotional needs. For others, their primal urges ventured far beyond compliments, flattery, and flirtatious conversation. Some convinced themselves that their longings could only be satisfied by a passionate and torrent love affair.
Just beyond A1A I took in the panoramic view of a sandy sunbaked beach and an expansive deep blue Atlantic Ocean. Numerous sailboats and medium sized yachts made their way along the slightly crescent-shaped shoreline. A few were anchored in place just off of the beach, perhaps to fish or just take in the sweltering sun. It was a magnificent view. Tall palms and tropical landscapes lined the winding street as far as the wandering eye could see. Beautiful and voluptuous women in swimwear seemed to be out in abundance. Blended in with these tempting Barbie Dolls were young and well-sculptured Adonis’s who promenaded to and fro shirtless arousing more than just the innate interest of young vibrant women passing them by. Tourists carrying swollen sling bags full of souvenirs and fashion ware continued their shop to shop search for that one unique purchase they could take back home and boast about. What I held in view was in fact most American’s vision of paradise. It was a paradise that eluded me in many ways. But I knew that being able to enjoy any semblance of heaven on earth and its trappings one would have to invest a lot of time and effort in a place such as the office I stood in and the business I worked for and represented.
A sparkling silver-gray Mercedes limousine broke my chain of thoughts as it glided to a gentle stop in front of the building’s elaborate entrance below. I watched intently as the well-dressed driver scurried around to the passenger side and open the door and with the pomp and circumstance one would expect of a visiting King or Queen or head of state. The prominent figure exiting the limo was a familiar one and one I had been expecting.
Minutes later there came a gentle rapping at the door, which was a short distance behind where I stood glancing out the window.
“Come on in,” I said as I turned and made my way towards the door as it opened. It was my uncle. Kurt Douglass was his name. Not only was he my uncle but he was also my mentor, financial advisor, and boss.
“Hello, my nephew,” he greeted me warmly as we embraced and patted one another on the back. “I am so delighted that things are working out so well for you here in Ft Lauderdale. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you Marcus.”
“Why thank you uncle. I really appreciate that,” I replied.
I placed a hand on his shoulder to usher him over to my recently polished mahogany desk but he declined, preferring to sit in one of the executive leather chairs positioned in front of it. Meanwhile, I eased myself up on the front edge of the desk, my right leg dangling, and gave him my full attention.
Seated before me was a man I admired and almost worshipped. My uncle was a self-made millionaire and the cofounder, along with his wife, my Aunt Yvette, of Spirit of Cooperation, Inc. The two of them had built a successful chain of five-star restaurants that spanned five states named Almond Street Café. The restaurant chain began in Tampa Bay some years earlier. It was an investment spurred on by my uncle who was a very fortunate Powerball winner in the Garden State, better known as New Jersey. It was a dream of my aunt, a dream realized after my uncle relocated to Tampa Bay and they met and fell in love and married.
An intelligent and well-educated and business minded man, he used his windfall to finance her dream of opening a chain of restaurants. Along the way they opened tutoring centers for disadvantaged children and in several economically depressed areas around Tampa. In time he opened up an Almond Street Café in the Orlando area, and then a second one. Eventually the business expanded to West Palm Beach and Miami. Several more restaurants followed in Vero Beach, St Petersburg, Daytona Beach, Key Largo, and Tallahassee. Once I completed my MBA, he immediately put me to work scouting out new locations for potential new restaurants. It was a job I had come to love and appreciate for many of my classmates, though quite brill
iant and extremely talented, were unable to find jobs as readily as I had.
After two years I received a promotion and a year later was selected to head the division on property acquisitions. While the main office was located in Tampa Bay I worked out of the recently acquired Ft Lauderdale office.
“Well, how’s the staff treating you,” he asked with a deep penetrating voice and toothy smile. He had personally handpicked them to be my assistants.
“Just great,” I answered moving my leg back and forth like a slow moving pendulum. “I’ve got no complaints…that is, none worth mentioning.”
“Good,” he said as he positioned himself at the edge of the chair. “I’d rather not be bothered with trivial stuff. We have enough of that in Tampa. Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about expanding our business outside of the country and I believe we are ready to make that move.”
“What do you have in mind, or should I ask where?”
“I’m thinking either the Virgin Islands or Jamaica, to start off with.”
“How are real estate prices down there?” I asked.
“They’re in a depressed market right now. But then, so are most other countries around the world. In the Unites States Virgin Islands, namely St Thomas, there are two prime locations being advertised at a bargain price. In Jamaica, there’s one property that’s primetime but I believe Trump Enterprises and Blueberry Fresh Products Inc. are vying for that location.
“Anyway, the former property owners got caught up in the 2008 real estate bust and after struggling to make ends meet eventually declared bankruptcy. Reorganization failed miserably and they finally closed their doors earlier this year in both countries.”
“Sounds like we ought to look into this matter further uncle before someone else grab up these properties,” I said.
“That’s why I want you to head down there day after tomorrow and check things out for me,” he said as he leaned back into the leather padded chair, his legs crossed at the knee. “I just wanted your input before we made our move.”
“I think it’s a great move and the right one for the company,” I professed. “We have to think about what chains like McDonalds, Starbucks, and Walt Disney did when it came to expanding their brand overseas.”
“That’s right, nephew,” he said sitting right back up. “And speaking of Disney, I want you to go down there incognito, as if on vacation, and inquire about the property as though you are a one man business looking to expand. Matter-of-fact, make this a working vacation. You deserve it. But look into these properties. If they get word that a budding chain like ours is thinking about purchasing that property they are going to jack up the price. As you know, Walt Disney bought all of the land in Orange County almost dirt cheap because the folks down there initially thought that only a few individuals was buying up the land.”
“That’s right. Had they known it was the Disney Company, they would have jacked the prices way up,” I added.
“And that’s what happened towards the end when the locals figured out who was buying up all of that property.”
“So, will it be Jamaica or St Thomas?”
“I’ll tell you what, since you’re in town uncle, I am going to treat you out to dinner this evening,” I began. “That will give me some additional time to research this matter a little more. By this evening I will have an answer for you, I promise.”
“See,” my uncle said standing up and extending his hand to shake mine, “this is exactly why I put you in charge of this division. You’re just like your uncle…cautious but deliberate.”
“Hey, you’re my inspiration, my hero,” I told him and straight from the heart. I could see the pride swell up inside of him as he gazed upon me.
“You know that your other aunt was from the island of Jamaica,” he said referring to his stepsister.
“You’re talking about Aunt Trish, I gather?”
“Yes. I just wished she had lived a more fulfilling life.”
“Yeah, me too,” I added solemnly.
“Anyway, I’ll meet with your staff in the morning,” he said as he found his way over to the window to gaze down onto the busy street. “Right now I am going to go to my hotel and check in and get a couple of hours of sleep before we meet for dinner.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” I added, standing up. “Besides, it’s far too hot out there to be roaming around and shopping. Hell, Aunt Yvette would kill me if you went out there and had a heatstroke or heart attack. Listen, I’ll give you a call in a couple of hours to let you know what restaurant we’re going to have dinner at.”
“Great!” he replied picking up a complimentary Snicker’s bar out of the candy dish on my desk. “And you’re right about your aunt. She’d kill me as well.”
“Good seeing you, uncle.”
“Good seeing you, my nephew.”
We embraced then he departed.
Chapter Two
Olive Garden was the restaurant of choice for dinner and a wide variety and selection of great tasting wines. Its fresh garden salads, home-styled soups, and Italian cuisine and Mediterranean-styled scenery was a precursor to the relaxing vacation atmosphere I hoped to fully immerse myself into down in the tropical Caribbean and in less than two days. Looking about the restaurant and the paintings of old Italy, I concluded that my wise uncle was right; I deserved a relaxing vacation, albeit a working vacation.
After being seated, a waitress filled my glass and brought a covered basket of warm garlic bread sticks. I uncovered the goods and took one in hand and bit into it. Delicious, I might add.
I scanned the entrance area of the busy restaurant several times and finally locked on my uncle’s familiar face. He immediately spied me, smiled, and made his approach escorted by a lovely looking hostess.
I stood and greeted him, then sat down. The hostess assured us that the waitress would return soon, then she took off to intercept another arrival.
“Nice choice of restaurants,” my uncle began. “I love Italian cuisine.”
“Thank you, though it could never compare to ours,” I added, taking a glass of water in hand and sipping at it.
“I’ll find out tomorrow if that rings true when we have lunch at our Almond Street Café,” he said with a smile as he unfolded the cloth napkin and placed it across his lap.
“I have no doubt they will be up to standard, especially having just been awarded five-star status by the regional restaurant association,” I reminded him. “And that’s after being opened for less than a year.”
“Now, how could I have forgotten such an endorsement and vote of confidence by our restaurant associates?” he grinned sheepishly with pride.
“I have no idea,” I came back grinning.
We settled down the moment a polite buxom waitress arrived with a huge bowl of Caesar salad and all of the fixings, then took our orders.
Gathering our salad bowls, we began our meal. Two chilled glasses and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, a very delicious white dinner wine, were set before us a short while later. It would surely compliment my veal parmesan order and my uncle’s grilled shrimp and butter-seared scallop meal. The aromatic smell of ocean fresh seafood, seasoned crab cakes, and charbroil steak from surrounding tables was pleasantly overwhelming and only served to increase my appetite. Talk about being tortured.
“Well, how’s the social scene here in Ft Lauderdale,” my uncle asked after taking a sip of wine.
“It’s pretty decent,” I answered, taking in a small amount of salad. “They have quite a nightclub scene along A1A and plenty of entertainment outlets to boot.”
“Good. Met anyone special yet?”
“Naah, been far too busy with the work and job mission you charged me with.”
“What do you mean you’ve been too busy?” he came back incredulously.
“Listen uncle,” I said. “I just haven’t had a lot of time for the social scene right now.”
Setting his goblet down, he leaned towards me as if to share a confidence.
“Marcus, I want you to be successful, yes. But I also want you to have a life as well. And I’m talking about an active social life.”
“I know, but like I’ve said, I have been so preoccupied with my work,” I emphasized. “I love what I do, and that’s why I put so much time into my job.”
My uncle sat back and gazed at me thoughtfully. By this time our food orders arrived on a large circular wooden serving tray.
Reaching over, the waitress set our hot plates before us, along with additional napkins. We thanked her and sighed relief before she whirled off. When he leaned in my direction again, I knew he was not finished with me.
“Listen Marcus, when you chose which ever island you’re going to do business in, I don’t want to see you back in the office inside of three weeks. Understand that nephew.”
“But uncle, it’ll only take a week or less to check out those properties, not two or three.”
“Then let me put it this way, you’re adding two weeks of vacation on top of one week of work.”
“But Uncle Kurt – “
“That’s final, nephew,” he said smiling but was dead serious in tone.
“Now, which properties have you decide to go after? Jamaica or St Thomas?”
“After some research I decided on the Virgin Islands,” I disclosed.
“So, St Thomas it is.”
“Yes, the price of the two properties combined is more of a bargain than I ever imagined they’d be. The tax burden is low, too. And the location is right smack in the middle of the business district.”
“Great! Have you made your flight and hotel arraignments yet?”
“No, not yet,” I answered as I cut my veal.
“Good because I don’t want you to use company channels for this venture. I’ll personally pay for your trip and accommodations. There must be no way for the sellers to trace your visit there with our company until we have a deal in hand. Just remember how the prices skyrocketed after realtors in the Orlando area figured out that Disney was buying up all of that land.”
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