Her Forever Fling

by Kimmie Ferrell

  “Will you be returning the favor? Since you snapped at him, and you didn’t let him apologize.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “But I’m guessing that little mishap in the lobby is water under the bridge for him since he’s staring at you like you’re the customer, and he wants to serve you like a Raheem DeVaughn song. He’s Burger King, and you can have it your way.”

  Melissa shook her head, tearing her eyes away from him. “Nah, he’s probably looking over here because he thinks I’m insane for telling him off.”

  Pursing her lips together, Jayla rolled her eyes heavenward. “Or you reacting the way you did turned him on. He probably wants to give you the D and whatever you like.” She sang the last three words like the hit song by rapper TI. “You can’t act like one week of being the person you’re afraid to be doesn’t sound like fun. You need to throw caution to the wind and get a little wild.”

  One week. What’s the worse thing that could happen? It wasn’t like Melissa would see these people again. Yes, medical conferences happened all the time, but the chances of her attending another were slim to none. Being unceremoniously cheated on and dumped taught Melissa playing it safe could still end in heartbreak. Her life was as exciting as watching paint dry or a snail cross concrete. She’d lost her way during her two-year relationship and become even more predictable and a lot more boring than she’d been as a kid.

  Her brother, Markus, used to tease her because of her quiet, reserved nature. Even now, at thirty-seven years old, he still asked her when she planned to burst the bubble she was trapped inside of and experience the life God intended her to live. Closing her eyes, Melissa took a deep breath. Could she do it? Let go and live life without abandonment for a week? A small part of her questioned the ability to do so. But just beneath the surface, as her heart began to race and excitement built up in the pit of her stomach, the fear of failure and thoughts of regrets disintegrated. Melissa knew she had to try. And if something went wrong, she could leave the memories of the failed experiment on Chaud as if it never happened.

  “I’ll do it.” Melissa smiled, opening her eyes. “This week, I’m going to have fun, let my hair down, and enjoy life.” She motioned to a passing waiter and asked for a pen and a napkin. “And I know exactly what I’m going to do first.”

  Elijah took a sip of his drink and smiled once again, nodding his head as he half-listened to Jefferson Fitzgerald, the COPAN president—Coalition of Physicians and Nurses—the group hosting the conference. Though he should’ve been paying attention to the topic at hand, Elijah’s thoughts were consumed by Young Gabby. Almost immediately after arriving at the poolside bar, he noticed her sitting with her friend from the day before, talking, laughing, sipping drinks, and looking even more breathtaking. He tried to make his way over to her earlier, but was pulled into a conversation with several of the COPAN Board of Trustees members.

  “So, Elijah, have you explored the resort and the island yet?” Margretta Chalhoon, the COPAN vice-president, asked. “Chaud is a stunning island, and the resort doesn’t even begin to compare to previous conference destinations.”

  “Not yet. I didn’t get out after flying in yesterday.” Elijah cleared his throat. He turned his attention away from Young Gabby and her friend back to the group in front of him. “But I’ve visited the island before.”

  “Isn’t the resort amazing?” another board member, whose name escaped Elijah, inquired.

  “It is.” Would it be rude to tell the board members he would talk to them later, then make his way over to the woman from yesterday? Probably. Especially since COPAN paid him handsomely to attend and present at this year’s conference. However, Elijah would have time to catch up with the members before INAPC began, but Young Gabby? Who knew when he would see her again. Elijah wanted the opportunity to properly introduce himself and to apologize for offending her.

  There was something special about the woman from the lobby. Something Elijah couldn’t put a name to but wanted the opportunity to explore and figure out what it was and why she’d taken up residence in his head. He spent the night tossing and turning in the California king-sized bed, but not because he’d been uncomfortable. Elijah should’ve gotten the best sleep of his life. From the moment he fell face-first on the pillow-top mattress, he’d felt like he was floating amongst the clouds.

  Even now, Elijah couldn’t feign interest in the conversation, not when she was so close … yet so far away. He bobbed his head, laughed, and offered a smile, hoping the actions would make him appear invested, though something—someone—else claimed his attention.

  His eyes found her again. She wore a sheer, black cover-up, which hung open, exposing a hot pink bikini with black trim. Unlike the other women parading around the pool clad in barely-there bikinis that looked more like thin straps of fabric held together by strings and ridiculously tall high heels, Young Gabby looked tasteful and comfortable. A pair of black flip-flops rested beside the bag next to her chair, and her toes were polished bright orange. Her thick, naturally curly hair framed her angelic face like a halo.

  Although she wore sunglasses, Elijah felt the searing heat of her gaze caressing his skin, igniting a blazing path wherever it landed. His stomach muscles clenched. Desire flooded his body, and goosebumps exploded over his skin. Her bold perusal shook Elijah to the depths of his core. And when their eyes connected once again, instead of looking away, the corners of Elijah’s lips curved into a smile he hoped conveyed his appreciation of her beauty. Internally, Elijah quickly listed the pros and cons of cutting his current conversation short, and the more he thought about it, the easier his decision became. No longer willing to put off meeting this intriguing woman who’d captivated him and took up permanent residence in his thoughts, Elijah opened his mouth to excuse himself. But before he could utter the words needed to make a hasty escape, a uniformed man wearing a bright smile stopped him.

  “Excuse me, Dr. Grayson,” he said, with a slight bow of his head. “This,” he held out a drink and a folded napkin, “is for you.”

  Confused, Elijah accepted the items and thanked the man. He placed the drink on the bar top next to him and read the message scrawled in black ink: Not only do you owe me an apology for your snarky comment yesterday, but now, you owe me a drink. As Elijah reread the note, his lips curved into a full grin. There’d only been one woman who he thought he needed to apologize to, and her message couldn’t have arrived at a better time. Elijah appreciated a woman with a sense of humor, and by the light tone of the note, Young Gabby could definitely hold her own. Elijah couldn’t deny his attraction to her. An understated, Girl-Next-Door kind of beauty infused with the sex appeal of a video vixen. The alluring combination piqued Elijah’s interest.

  He glanced over and was disappointed to see the two seats they’d occupied were now empty. ‘Don’t wait too long, you might miss out,’ a voice, sounding a lot like his father said. Elijah groaned inwardly. His eyes scanned the poolside, hoping to get a glimpse of the woman, but he came up short.

  “Is everything all right, Elijah?” Margretta asked, forcing Elijah’s attention back to the conversation. She nodded her head toward the napkin in his hand.

  Slipping it into his pocket, Elijah flashed a tight-lipped smile. “Everything’s fine, Margretta.” He removed a couple of bills from his wallet and placed them on the bar top. “However, I need to be going. I’m meeting a colleague for dinner. I’ll see you all during the week.”

  After a round of good-byes and promises to meet before the start of the conference, Elijah took off toward the stone path leading back to the hotel. He walked over to the waiter who’d delivered the note and drink. He needed answers as to who this woman was, and hopefully, the man would be able to put Elijah out of his misery.

  “Excuse me,” Elijah glanced at the name badge pinned to the waiter’s tan polo shirt, “Winston. I know you’re busy, but do you know the name of the woman who asked you to deliver this to me?” He reached into his pocket and
removed the folded napkin, holding it in the air.

  Winston collected several glasses left behind by patrons before turning back to Elijah, frown lines creasing his forehead. “Sorry, Dr. Grayson. Unfortunately, I didn’t get her name.” He touched his index finger to his chin in thought. “But I do know both she—and Ms. Daniels—are also Guests of the Crown.”

  Guests of the Crown? Winston’s eyes grew wide as he realized his mistake. Guests of the royal family were meant to be discreet as a precautionary measure to ensure their friends’ and acquaintances’ safety and well-being. Elijah knew, from previous trips, the rule was known by all the resort’s staff members. Winston’s slip of the tongue—though purely accidental—not only provided an insight as to who the woman was but could also result in the young man being fired if anyone found out.

  “Wh-What I, what I meant to say—” Winston started.

  Elijah held up a hand, leaned in, and whispered, “Let’s pretend you didn’t say what you said, but be mindful to keep that information to yourself.”

  “Of course, sir.” Winston nodded his head. “Thank you, sir.” His body visibly relaxed.

  “No problem.” Elijah slid Winston a twenty-dollar bill and walked away.

  Like him, Young Gabby—and her friend—were guests of the royal family. But whose guests? Did they know King Damarae? If so, how? Or was their ties to the royal family on a more personal level? Maybe one of them secretly dating the Crown Prince or his younger brother? And if so, who?

  Young Gabby? Nahhh. Elijah shook the thought from his head. There was no way she was involved with someone else. She’d sent him a note, and mentioning he now owed her a drink meant she expected to see him again, right? Elijah hoped so because it was definitely what he wanted, too.

  “Dr. Grayson,” a voice called out to him, stopping Elijah in his tracks. He turned and watched as Winston jogged over to him. “Before you leave, I was instructed should you inquire about her to come find out for yourself tonight at Ambrosia. She said to meet her at nine.”

  Elijah chuckled, then thanked Winston, suddenly excited about how his night would end.

  Chapter Three

  The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights” pulsed through the hidden wall speakers, greeting Elijah as he stepped inside of the swanky nightclub, which dared patrons to ‘party like the Gods.’ Packed wall-to-wall with impeccably dressed men and stunning, modelesque-type women in revealing outfits, the atmosphere in Ambrosia was lively and infectious but still felt upscale—despite catering to the twenty-one and older crowd. Elijah waved at a couple physicians he’d met at other conferences as he made his way to the square, marble bar trimmed in twenty-four-karat gold located in the center of the club, and sunk onto one of the empty barstools. He signaled for the bartender and ordered a Coke and rum.

  Ice blue lights illuminated sweaty bodies grinding on the dance floor. Along with the DJ booth near the back of the club, Ambrosia’s VIP areas, referred to as Mount Olympus, were perched on elevated platforms above the crowds, accessible only by a hidden staircase. Throne-like couches trimmed in gold, marble tables, columns draped with sheer white curtains, and gold velvet ropes decorated the exclusive area. Floor-to-ceiling windows, along the club’s front wall, gave patrons breathtaking views of the Caribbean Sea.

  Ambrosia also featured a covered patio, aptly named Flora’s Garden, with various flowers, trees, and plants that canopied the paths leading to a jade-colored natural hot spring nicknamed Hebe’s Fountain. Ambrosia certainly embraced everything Grecian, and if things went according to plan, Elijah hoped he and Young Gabby would get the opportunity to slip away to the quiet oasis to get to know one another a little better.

  After accepting the drink from the bartender, Elijah faced the crowd, hoping to spot Young Gabby. Thankfully, he didn’t have to search long, finding her and her friend seated in one of the club’s VIP sections. Their table was ladened with bottles of Ace of Spades on ice and platters of delicious-looking hor d’oeuvres. The royal family stopped at nothing to ensure their guests’ stay at the resort was memorable.

  Young Gabby looked like she stepped off the pages of a haute couture magazine, fresh off a runway, or even set of a video shoot of a hip-hop or R&B artist. Hands down, she was the most gorgeous woman in the establishment, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone, all who seemed enthralled by every provocative sway of her hips in the form-fitting, off-the-shoulder, silver sequin mini-dress that kissed her firm thighs. She was the definition of both sexy and sophisticated.

  She tossed her head back in laughter at something her friend whispered, and Elijah squeezed his eyes shut against the images of her laid out on the satin sheets of his bed with her naked body writhing in pure ecstasy as he peppered kisses from the shell of her ear, over the graceful column of her neck and pulse point, down to the valley between her breasts, and lower. Opening his eyes, Elijah took a much-needed sip of his drink to cool his raging body down.

  “Dr. Grayson?” A young woman dressed in a white toga and gold body paint stopped in front of him.

  “Yes?”

  The woman smiled politely. “Sir, there is a personal VIP section awaiting you. Would you like me to escort you there?”

  Jorge mentioned the perks of being a Guest of the Crown, including a VIP booth at Ambrosia. To say it would be easy to get used to this fabulous lifestyle of being an associate of royalty was an understatement. He’d first met the royal family when the royal physician, Dr. Masionet, invited Elijah to Chaud to evaluate King Damarae, who secretly suffered from a heart condition. More than once, Elijah contemplated allowing himself the opportunity to overindulge. But tonight, he wouldn’t. Young Gabby had called him an ‘arrogant asshole,’ and standing in VIP, popping bottles, surrounded by scantily clad women who’d undoubtedly flock over to him, would fall right in line with her thoughts.

  “No, thanks.” His eyes traveled back to Young Gabby. “I like the view from here, but there’s something you can do for me.” Plucking a napkin from the holder next to his empty glass, Elijah grabbed the pen left behind by one of the other patrons and scribbled “How about that apology, drink, and maybe a dance right now?” He folded it and handed it back to the woman. “Can you deliver this message to the woman in the silver dress in the VIP area?”

  Accepting the napkin, the woman nodded and left. Seconds later, she emerged from behind a thick, black curtain near the table Young Gabby and her friend occupied. Elijah briefly closed his eyes to calm his racing heart and slowly blinked them open.

  Did I do the right thing? Should I have gone over there myself, or will Young Gabby see the irony in me sending a note just as she’d done earlier in the day? Elijah shook his head, barely recognizing himself or his thoughts. It was unlike him to question himself and his actions concerning women. And he damn sure didn’t pass messages through a third party. It felt like Elijah reverted back to the awkward, scrawny pre-teen he’d been before puberty decided to show up and show the hell out the summer before he entered high school. But she did this to him, and Elijah was more than ready to find out why.

  Confusion marred the soft features of Young Gabby’s face as she accepted the note from the waitress, then watched as the woman quickly left the section. Young Gabby unfolded the napkin, playfully dodging her friend, who desperately tried to peek over her shoulder, both laughing at the other’s antics, then sobering as they both read the message. Her head snapped up, barely missing the chin of her friend, her full lips parted on a gasp. She twisted her body, her eyes scanned the crowd, no doubt searching for the sender of the note. Elijah willed himself not to wave his arms to get her attention. He had to remain calm. Besides, Elijah wasn’t one of these thirsty dudes, practically begging the women in the club for a minute of their time. If Young Gabby wanted him, which he suspected she did, she would come to him.

  Finally, after what felt more like an eternity but appeared to be less than a minute, their gazes connected and held. Her dark brown eyes crinkled at the edges as she grace
d him with an adorably shy, yet downright sexy half-smile. Heat speared through him, causing his body temperature—and a particular lower extremity—to rise. Here he was, damn near forty, sitting in a crowded club with a woody like some raging hormonal teenage boy who’d watched porn for the first time. Elijah bit back a curse when the tip of her tongue slid slowly across her bottom lip. Though he suspected the action to be purely innocent, done out of nervousness, she made it look downright seductive. Downing the contents of his glass, Elijah slipped off his barstool, his earlier thoughts of making her come to him forgotten. It’s now or never.

  With his eyes trained on Young Gabby, Elijah walked through the throng of people, dodging sweaty bodies and drinks spilling from intoxicated patrons. She was the epitome of beauty. Ringlets of her thick, natural curls were twisted in an intricate up-do, the tresses held in place by sparkling rhinestone hairpins. Briefly, she turned to speak to her friend, finished her champagne, and disappeared behind the black curtain. She reemerged moments later, a vision of loveliness, standing between two marble columns, a cascading waterfall—an illusion of LED lights—flowing over her.

  “Damn,” Elijah breathed.

  His eyes traveled the entire length of her body, lingering over her kissable lips covered in red lipstick and parted slightly. The dress clung to her body like a second skin, displaying every single mouth-watering curve Elijah hoped to run his fingers, lips, and tongue along soon. Black stiletto heels with diamond embellishments on the straps wrapped around her slender ankles, emphasizing the sexiest pair of toned legs he’d seen in a while. Watching her glide across the dancefloor, Elijah couldn’t help but puff out his chest with pride. Granted, he didn’t know her at all, but she could spend the night with any man she wanted. Hell, Young Gabby was a GOTC, she could’ve been in the company of one of Chaud’s princes, but instead, she told him to meet her at Ambrosia. Her focus had remained on him since she received the note from the waitress. If winning the lottery felt like this, the first thing Elijah would do when he returned home would be to buy a couple tickets himself.