Provocative Paradise: A Secret Stranger Romance

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Provocative Paradise: A Secret Stranger Romance Page 11

by Jillian Riley


  I sighed deeply. Did I really want to leave early? Never see Liam again? If I stayed, I’d surely run into him again, like I just did. It would be painful to see him with someone else. Plus, with Julie being sick and the problem with money and needing to find a job, I really did have some things to deal with. “Yes, as soon as possible, thank you.”

  “Okay, no problem. I’ll process the paperwork and have Kanye slip it under your door tonight.”

  “Thank you.” I walked away with a heavy heart. This was not the way I’d expected our Bahamas retreat to end. It had been, for all intents and purposes, a monumental failure.

  Oh well. At least I had some hot sex.

  ***

  I didn’t want to go back up to the room just yet, so I decided to go get another one of those green drink smoothies. Ever since I got to the Bahamas, I discovered that I actually liked kale.

  Standing in line at the smoothie place, I saw Liam again as he walked by the pool area on the way to the parking lot. He looked terrible, honestly. Other than being sexy, that is. But he had circles under his eyes and looked like he barely slept all night.

  Probably up with Kayla. I tried to avoid him, but there was no way out of the lobby without passing him.

  “Hey.” He looked even worse up close.

  “How’s it going?”

  Liam rubbed his eyes. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure? You look pretty...tired.” I couldn’t think of what else to say. I sure didn’t want to hear about his exploits with some other chick.

  “Yeah. I didn’t sleep much last night. But, look, there’s something I need to do. I’ve got to go.” He barely looked at me as he turned to walk away.

  “Oh, okay. Well, then, I’ll talk to you later, I guess.” My heart was even heavier than before. He was clearly not even interested in me a little bit at this point. Oh well. I’ll be home in a couple of days anyway.

  Chapter Twenty Two Liam: Not My Problem

  Jenny looked amazing. When I saw her in the lobby, all I wanted to do was ravish her right then and there. But it had been a long night and I didn’t want to risk being seen with her until I took care of the problem. Hopefully she would still be there when I got back and I’d be able to tell her about the break-in and what I found in the cave. For now, though, she was safer not knowing.

  I’d rented a car, and drove it off property and headed out of Paradise Island toward Nassau. I’d originally planned to go to the police station near the retreat on Paradise Island, but thought better of it. Since finding a cave filled with kilos of drugs was a pretty big deal, I decided to go to the Main Division of the Royal Bahamas Police Force. Finding that note was the last straw. I really needed to go to the police immediately.

  In other circumstances, I would be enjoying the drive. The palm trees swaying in the breeze, the brilliant blue ocean, and the salty sea air were a delight to the senses when one wasn’t on the way to a police station to report that they’d found drugs in a cave and had their possessions ransacked.

  Pulling up near the quaint yellow and white building, I was struck at how different the architecture was from most of the police stations I’d seen in the US. It looked more like a private residence than a government building. Maybe I’d take some design ideas and bring them back home, for police departments that wanted to seem friendlier and less threatening.

  Pulling open the doors, I was greeted by a smiling woman at the front desk. “May I help you?”

  “Yes. I’m not sure who I should be talking to, but I discovered some illegal drugs and want to report it.”

  The woman’s face changed to a serious expression, “I see. Come this way.” As she escorted me down the hallway, I noticed her looking out the window, as if to see if I’d been followed.

  I followed the woman down a narrow hallway to a small room that looked like it had once been a bedroom. There was a metal desk and two chairs, on opposite sides of the desk. It looked a lot like the interrogation rooms I had seen on television police shows like Blue Bloods and Law and Order.

  “Wait here. Someone will be with you soon.” She shut the door behind her, leaving me alone in the room. Pulling out one of the hard metal chairs, I sat down and pulled out my phone. No reception. That didn’t surprise me, really.

  With nothing to do but wait, my mind began to wander. As had been the case recently, my mind wandered to Jenny. Our holidays were coming to an end soon, and I found myself concerned about never seeing her again. But I was an architect who lived in Chicago and she was in advertising in Seattle. One of us would have to give up their life to be with the other, and I doubted it would be Jenny since she was so close to her sister. I couldn’t see giving up my career in Chicago. It really didn’t seem possible.

  Just then, someone came into the room. A man wearing a traditional Bahamian police uniform came in and said, “Hi there. I’m Sergeant Harris. How can I help you?” He pulled out the chair opposite me.

  I proceeded to tell Sergeant Harris what I knew. “I was walking along the beach and exploring caves when I came upon a stash of crates lined up against the walls of one of them. I opened the lid of one of them to see what was in there and noticed that it was full of bags of white powder that I can only assume was cocaine.”

  “Where exactly was this cave?” Sergeant Harris was taking notes, but his demeanor seemed disinterested. Bored, even.

  I described the location of the caves.

  “That’s private property, sir.”

  “Oh. Well, there weren’t any signs or anything. Anyway, a couple of days later I came back to my bungalow, the bungalow I’m staying at, and it was trashed.”

  “What hotel are you staying at?”

  “It’s the Napur Priyanka wellness retreat.”

  “Did you call security?”

  “Yes, I did, but they said that because there was no evidence of a break in there wasn’t anything they could do.”

  “No evidence of a break in?” Sergeant Harris looked confused. “Did you leave the door unlocked?”

  “No, but I lost my key in the cave. I’m assuming they found it and used it to get into my bungalow.”

  “That’s quite an assumption. Do you know who ‘they’ are? Did they steal anything?”

  “No, nothing was taken and I have no idea who might have broken in. But, I did find this note in the medicine chest.” I pulled out the note and gave it to him.

  Sergeant Harris took the note and stared at it for what felt like two minutes. I was actually starting to wonder if maybe the man didn’t read English.

  He leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. “So let me get this straight. You go trespassing on a private beach and go looking in a cave. Probably trying to find the so-called hidden treasure that all you Americans come looking for. You come upon some crates and take it upon yourself to open one of them, even though they are not yours, and you see what you think is drugs. You lose your key, someone finds it. Probably another tourist like yourself, and they use it to let themselves into the bungalow you’re staying in, trash the place, and leave you a note, probably as a prank. Nothing is stolen, security can’t do anything, but you feel you need to come to the police? Do I have that about right?”

  I stood up. “That is exactly correct, Sergeant. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I simply thought, given the challenges your country has had with drug trafficking in the past that you might want to be made aware of the fact that there are drugs in that cave. I’ve now done that, and what you do with that information is up to you.” I couldn’t believe this guy’s attitude!

  Crossing over to the door, I turned to Sergeant Harris and said, “Thank you for seeing me. I’m going to go back to my hotel, finish my vacation, and return to the United States. Have a nice rest of your day.” Unbelievable.

  I caught the eye of the woman at the front desk, but before I could say anything, she averted her eyes and picked up a telephone.

  Well, that was a waste of time. But, I felt I’d done my duty by report
ing it. What they did with the information was not my problem.

  Chapter Twenty Three Jenny: Funny Business

  It was still early afternoon when I got back to the room after Liam walked off. Determined to make the most of what was left of my vacation, I grabbed the paper with the day’s activities and leafed through them while sitting on the end of Julie’s bed.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? I feel bad going and doing stuff without you.”

  “Jen, I’m sure. I’m reading a romance novel and will probably order room service and go eat it out on the balcony. I’m in an ocean view suite with all the free food I can eat. Seriously. I’m fine. What’s on the schedule for today?”

  I scanned the paper. “Well, there is a yoga class at 3. Meditation afterward at 4. An 80s themed pool party at 6. And a poetry reading in the library at 8.”

  “The 80s thing could be cool.”

  “Nah. I never took that helicopter ride thing I won. Maybe I’ll go check that out.”

  “You could go back to that cave and look for treasure.”

  “Ha, no. The only coin I need to find is a paycheck.”

  “Okay, well if you do go on the helicopter thing, send me pics!”

  “I will. And, text me if you need anything.” I grabbed my purse on the way out. “Love you!”

  ***

  “Here you go. A turkey sandwich on wheat, a bag of baked potato chips, and a water to go.”

  I was glad that the retreat offered boxed lunches and bicycles. I decided to bike to town and check out the helicopter place. I doubted that I’d be able to book a ride so late in the day, and our flight out was in less than two days. But, hey, it was worth a shot, and at the minimum I’d get a nice bike ride.

  “Thank you so much.” I grabbed the bike lock and lunch and headed out to the bank of turquoise blue bicycles lined up outside the Main House.

  Part of me was hoping to see Liam again, but as soon as the thought came to mind, I immediately chased it away. It was time to forget about that guy and move on.

  Pumping my legs as I biked up the slightly inclined street, I felt good. Despite being on a wellness retreat, I hadn’t gotten nearly as much exercise as I was used to getting at home.

  The cool breeze caressed my face and my hair blew in the wind. It was surprisingly fresh out, and not hot or muggy at all. Off in the distance, I could see white puffy clouds on the horizon of the brilliant blue ocean. White sailboats bobbed along the water and the sun glinted as it grazed the gentle waves. I could absolutely see why so many people came here. A red and white cruise ship was docked just offshore, and if I squinted, I could see the tenders going back and forth, taking tourists to and from town.

  Pedaling down the narrow street, I pulled over to check the address on the flyer they gave me with her helicopter tickets. According to the map, Island Time Helicopter Tours was about a block away.

  Five minutes later, I had locked the bike and could hear a bell jangle as I pushed through the glass doors of the helicopter tour agency.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes, I won a ticket on a helicopter tour?” I handed the woman the flyer.

  “Oh yes! Are you looking to book your flight?”

  “I was thinking about it. The thing is, I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Let me see if we have something open before then.” The woman began typing on her computer. “I see that we have an opening in two days at 2:00 pm. Will that work?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. We’ll need to be leaving for the airport then. So, that’s your first available slot?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “That’s too bad. Is the prize transferrable?” Maybe I could give it to someone.

  “It is. As long as they have the original ticket, right here, anyone can use it.”

  “Excellent. Good. Well, thank you very much.” I folded the flyer back up and stuck it in my purse.

  “I hope you come back soon. The tour is very popular.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  I was glad to see the boxed lunch was still in the basket when I got back out to the bike. It was definitely time to eat, so I hopped on to search for a picturesque spot to eat my sandwich.

  There was a perfect little grassy area next to a small art gallery, and so I parked the bike and went to go sit on a bench and eat and think.

  Taking generous bites of the sandwich in between crunching on chips, my mind wandered. It’s too bad that things didn’t work out with Liam. He was the kind of guy I wished I could meet back home. But he was an architect in...where, Chicago? And I was a jobless advertising writer in Seattle.

  Jobless in Seattle. Ha. Sounds like a movie title.

  Did I even want to stay in advertising? It was a really competitive field, and you were only as good as your last ad campaign. Maybe the whole Ito account thing was a sign. But, a sign of what?

  In college, I’d thought about becoming a photographer. Maybe I should revisit that? It’s not exactly a high paying career, though. I wonder if I’d even be able to pay rent on a photographer’s salary.

  Finished with my sandwich and chips, I drank the last of the water and threw the contents in the trash. Now what? Spying the art gallery next door, I decided to peek inside.

  The air was cool as I stepped inside the gallery. It was surprisingly large, given the exterior. I’d figured it would just be a few collections of paintings, but this gallery had six or seven themed rooms. The artwork on display was for sale, and I considered buying a piece to have shipped home as a souvenir. Until I remembered my financial situation.

  One of the rooms was a photography collection by an artist named Isabella Garcia. I was mesmerized at the woman’s use of light and contrast. Photo after photo inspired me, and I walked slowly among the collection, absorbing the feelings they evoked.

  “They’re incredible, aren’t they?” I jumped in surprise as a voice spoke behind me.

  “They are. I particularly like this one of the mother and two children. You can literally feel the fierce love they have for each other.”

  “The photographer knew the children personally. That’s how she was able to get them to relax and be so authentic.”

  “How much is it?” I knew I shouldn’t be asking.

  $500 Bahamian dollars.”

  “So, that’s...”

  “Are you American?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty close to $500. Can I have it shipped home for you?”

  I shook my head. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I’m just browsing at the moment.”

  The woman smiled, “Of course. I completely understand. I’ll leave you to enjoy the art. Stay as long as you’d like and let me know if you have any questions.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  ***

  An hour later, I felt energized. Maybe it was a sign that I wandered into that gallery and saw the photographs. Fine Art photos paid very well.

  I was biking and daydreaming about becoming a professional photographer when I realized I’d gotten to the end of a one-way street. Turning down a small alley, I figured I could backtrack and get back to where I needed to be. This is the second time you’ve been lost on this trip, Jenny. You better get a GPS implanted in your arm or something.

  The alley wasn’t long, but it was very narrow and it took a lot of concentration to navigate the cans and boxes that jutted out. As I passed a doorway, something moving caught my eye.

  Turning back to see what it was, I saw a familiar face. It was a man handing a thick envelope to another man. Where do I know that guy from? They were sheltered in the doorway and you wouldn’t even notice them if you weren’t right there.

  I craned my neck back to get a better look. Seriously. I know that guy from somewhere.

  Before I could figure it out, I heard and felt a huge crash. My bicycle stopped suddenly and I went flying off of it, landing smack on one elbow.

  The men heard the commotion
and turned to see what it was. The man that I recognized caught my eye and then disappeared inside the door they’d been standing in front of.

  Ouch! Inspecting my elbow, I realized it wasn’t broken or sprained. Just scraped and bleeding. Standing up to brush off my legs, I noticed that both knees were scraped too. Great. Just great.

  I tenderly climbed back on the bike. It hurt to pedal so I went slowly back to the hotel. Who was that guy? I was scanning my mind for where I might have seen him before. Then it hit me. He was the manager of the retreat!

  What on earth was he doing in some dark alley receiving an envelope?

  I thought it was weird and was, frankly, a little creeped out. But, maybe that’s just the way they do business around here. Either way, it’s none of my business. I’m just going back to the hotel and get some bandages for my elbow and knees.

  Chapter Twenty Four Liam: Another Piece

  I kept looking at the doorway to the bar, hoping to see Jenny. I was starting to feel badly about having been so abrupt with her earlier.

  “She’s not here, man.” Jimmy set a plate down in front of Liam. “She got a boxed lunch and took it to go.”

  “That obvious, huh?” I sighed and turned back to the bar. Taking a big bite of the sandwich, I didn’t know what to do. The police clearly wanted nothing to do with the situation. Jenny was literally the only reason I was still staying at the retreat, and we really had no possibility of a future relationship. Maybe I should just head home early and get back to work. I really did feel a lot better about things after having gotten away.

  “How was the sandwich?” I heard Jimmy asking the question to someone at the other end of the bar, but I couldn’t see who it was because they were behind a post that obscured my view.

  “It was delicious, Jimmy. The chips were perfect too.” The voice was Jenny’s.

  She’s here! I got up and walked to where she was standing. She had a glass of orange juice in her hand, and appeared to be injured.

 

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