Romance: One Fine Holiday (2 page)

Chapter 3

“Are you coping since Nick left?” Kate asks as we snuggle into our plane seats.

“I’ve been too busy at work to notice that he’s not there.”

“You need to slow down, Ella.  You need to give yourself a chance to enjoy life and find the right man to sit by your side.”

“I don’t need a man right now.  I’m… happy.”

My statement is unconvincing and I know that Kate can see right through it, but I am determined not to bring this holiday down.  I don’t want to talk about how many things are missing in my life right now.

I am going to enjoy myself and forget about my life for a week.

“Happy?” Kate questions.

I don’t respond and she can tell that I don’t want to talk about it yet.

“You always said that you would love an island man?” Mel quips.

“I would,” I smile, “I would love a man that is fit and strong but relaxed and calm.  I would love a man that could catch his own fish and cook it on an open fire.  I would love that whole tropical lifestyle.”

“Then we should find you a man this week!”

“No thanks,” I decline the offer, “The island man is only a dream.  A man like that could never survive in New York.”

“We’ll have to leave you on the island then.”

“Can’t do that,” I shake my head.

“Why not?”

“New York is my home.  Although the busy place wears me down sometimes, it’s what I know and love.  I could never leave it.”

“Not even for the perfect man?”

I shake my head.

“How’s your man, Kate?  The model?”

“Drew is good.  He is very good.  He is always travelling around the world, hitting the next runway, but he is good.  And we just got a dog.”

“A dog?  Ooohh, the next step is marriage.”

“Not just yet, but hopefully soon.  I think he’s the one.”

“The dog or the man?” Mel laughs. 

Kate smiles, “Speaking of pets, how are yours, Mel?”

“They’re not pets, they’re animals.  I can’t say I keep a few hundred head of sheep as pets.  I wouldn’t remember all their names!  I struggle to get the names of my own children right!”

“And the apartment Ella?  How’s that going?”

“Nude man still lives over the street.”

“Nude man?” Mel questions, “Oh, do tell.  I haven’t heard about nude man.”

“Out my bedroom window,” I explain, “I can see straight into the apartment across the street.  And the man there… he walks around butt-naked most nights of the week.”

“That’s not the full story though is it, Ella?” Kate states. 

I have told Kate about nude man numerous times before.  Sometimes I will be talking on the phone to Kate and I will catch a glimpse of him across the way.  Kate knows when this happens because I always lose my thoughts when I see him.

“Well,” I continue, “He also looks very fit.  And I mean
very
fit.  He has a washboard set of abs.”

“And…” Kate encourages me to tell the whole story.

“And… he is… um… huge, if you know what I mean!” I giggle.

The girls burst out laughing together.

The rest of the plane trip is one big catch-up, listening to each other talk about how our lives have changed over the years. 

Chapter 4

The warm tropical air wraps around my body like a warm blanket, and my worries drift away in the sunshine. 

The resort we are staying at is the only resort on the island however there are a few locals that live around the other side.  Travelling here by boat, I spotted one large mansion and numerous little houses on the locals side of the island. 

That must be amazing to live on an island like this.

We arrived on the island wide-eyed and in awe.  We feel secluded in our section of the island.  We agreed to spend a little bit extra on the resort so we could have the ideal getaway.  It is the perfect birthday present for us.

The main island with numerous restaurants is only a ten minute boat ride away, but it feels like a world away.  Out here in our resort, there are no children, no sleazy men and no rowdy teenagers.  This is the resort for those who want to relax.

After a night of laughing in the resort bar, we crash to our rooms early.  As I start to fall asleep, I can’t resist the urge to check my emails on my phone. 

Damn you work, I can’t let go.

I open up my emails to see hundreds of unread messages already and a number of them are about C.J Rowan.

He is one of the firm’s richest clients and I am one of many who have been working on his files.  He is only new to the firm this year, but he has already developed a reputation. 

No-one has actually met him, and he likes to send long-winded emails that are cryptic in their questions.  I had to re-read one of his emails six times before I understood what he was requesting.

Although I am only assisting on this file, it was stated very clearly to me that we need to do everything we can to hold onto this client.  The potential for business to the firm is huge.

If I can help keep this one client, it can set-up my career. 

It is an opportunity to good to miss.

With the desire to do my job well hanging over my head, I read over the emails long into the night.

I didn’t sleep much last night after spending four hours replying to emails on my phone.  I can’t let go of work.  I have worked too hard to get to where I am today and it means so much to me.

My body-clock still wakes me up early and as hard as I try, I can’t get back to sleep.  After tossing and turning in the comfortable bed for more than thirty minutes, I decide it is time to get up and go for a calming walk along the beach.

The girls are still asleep as I walk out the door to look at the beach bathed in pre-dawn light.  The long beach is only a few yards from our front door, and I wander down there barefoot.

The golden sand feels magical under my toes.  The sun has yet to grace the horizon but it is light enough to see all the beauty in front of me. 

It feels so beautiful to walk on such a dreamlike beach, away from the hassles and judgment of the world.  

But away from my hectic schedule, I don’t even know who I am anymore.  Work defines everything about me. 

It is who I am.

This is a holiday from my work and my life.  This tropical island resort is my escape from all the stresses that have built up over my adult life. 

This island gives me a chance to rediscover myself. 

The morning is so still and calm that I become lost in my own thoughts on this beach.  

I walk for many minutes along the deserted beach and my toes sink into the soft sand when I stop to watch the sun rise over the water.

The water is a soft turquoise color, and it looks endless from where I am standing.  The fresh air from the sea gently wafts around me, filling my senses with beautiful smells.  The sky is endless - it seems to go on forever.

I am in love with this island.  

This moment on this tropical beach looks so perfect that it could be the backdrop for one of the many motivational posters that hang in my office building.   

I was never the beach sort of girl.  My family never went on any beach holidays growing up, I never went on any wild road trips to a beachside town, and I have never felt the urge to swim in the wild ocean.  The thought of the undercurrent of water taking me out into the endless blue scares me no end.  And I hate the idea of not touching the bottom of the sand with my feet. 

You never know what is under your feet. 

But this island feels different.  There is a sense of calm on this island and the water feels like it is calling to me with its little waves. 

Although I have only been on this beach for ten minutes, I feel comfortable here. 

I feel like I could jump into the ocean and swim out to a yacht. 

I feel like I could live in a hut and swing in a hammock all day long. 

No place has ever made me feel like that before. 

“Good morning,” I hear a deep manly voice behind me and I turn around in surprise.

“Oh, hello.  I thought I was on this beach alone.”

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

We stand in awkward silence as he waits for me to say something next. 

But I can’t.

I am speechless at the man who stands before me. 

He is tall, broad and impossibly handsome.  His chiseled physique is shaped by a loose white cotton shirt, and neat dress shorts. 

The handsome man smiles in an attempt to break the silence.

“I usually walk along this beach in the morning.  I usually have the whole beach to myself early in the morning,” his deep blue eyes look out to the horizon.

“It’s quiet.”

“And very beautiful.”

“It is an amazing beach,” I add.

“I wasn’t talking about the beach.”

Oh, what a flirt.

The flirt casts a long shadow over the beach and his shadow is much longer than mine.  His tan and toned body shape suggests that he lives on the island but that theory is abolished by his smell.  Even this early in the morning, he smells like he is wearing expensive cologne.  Who wears cologne to a beach? 

“But the beach is amazing also,” he states as his eyes lock onto the sunrise. 

My eyes are locked onto his strong arms.

“Yes… beautiful,” I whisper, still staring at his solid, tanned body.

Through his white, wavy cotton shirt, I can see the outline of a solid set of muscles.  His shoulders curve and lead to a thick set of biceps, and the heavy arms lead to large, manly hands.  I wish those manly hands would lead to me.

“I’m Clarke.”

“Hi.”

He waits for me to offer my name.

“Oh yes,” I reply, slightly embarrassed at the social awkwardness, “Ella.”

“Pleased to meet you Ella,” he states very charmingly.

“How long are you here on holidays for, Clarke?”

“I’m not on holidays.  I work on the island.”

“Oh right.  What is it that you do?”

“I work in hospitality.”

Such a broad answer usually means that he is trying to hide his true profession. 

Hospitality could cover anything from concierge, hotel manager, janitor, tour manager, chef - anything that entertains the guests really. 

“What is it that you do in hospitality?”

“I work with the hotel,” he avoids the question again, “How about you, Ella – how long are you on holiday for?”

“A few days.  I’ve just come out here for a break with my close friends to have a girl’s only trip.”

“You’ve left your boyfriend at home?” he asks inquisitively.

“Um… no.  It’s just me and the girls on holiday.”

A smirk drifts across his face. 

He seems to have liked that answer.

“Do you live on the island, Clarke?”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Most of the time?”

“I fly back home to America once every couple of months to…” he takes a long pause, “to touch base with America again.”

“New York?” I question, based on his accent.

He nods, “Yep.  That busy city used to be my home.  It used to be everything to me, but I grew out of it.  This small island is home now.”

“That’s a big change.  Moving from the hustle and bustle to a place that is extremely quiet must have been a bit of a shock to the system.”

“A welcome one though.  Are you a New Yorker?”

“I am.  I love it.  I love the pace of the city.  It keeps me excited.  It’s nice to have a break but I love running on adrenalin.”

His smirks again and looks back out to the horizon where the tip of the sun starts to creep over the water’s edge.   The moment captures my attention as well.

It is a magical moment.

The dawn of a new day.

The sunrise is an event that has happened every single day but today, it takes my breath away.  On this lonely island, I feel like the sunrise is for me. 

I feel like the rising of the day is a show made for my viewing pleasure.

I have never stopped to watch the sunrise before.  I have always been too busy with my head down, trying to arrive at the next destination.

Today, I notice the strong, shapely clouds sitting stagnant above the water, disbursed over the intermittent blue sky.  I am stunned to see such bright colors above me.  With my eyes focused downward for too many years, I look to the clouds like a toddler discovering its wonder for the first time.

No other object floats so calmly and so pleasantly, but by and large the beautiful grace of clouds are ignored in everyday life.  Like an army of inter-twined and slow moving ships, the clouds sit watchfully above the ocean.

In awe, I watch the clouds slowly change their colors from pink to a subtle orange, quietly moving their shapes to the romantic rhythm of the morning sky.  The sun sends its rays out to turn the clouds an innocent pink, painting color across the landscape, just as an artist would craft a masterpiece. 

“We always have great sunrises here,” the handsome man states, “But not enough people stop and look.  They just pass on through lives, ignoring all the beauty in the world.  I think the world would be such a better place if people just stopped and watched the sunrise.”

“I have not stopped to look at the sunrise for many years,” I reply, still staring at the beauty, “I’ve been much too busy living my life.”

“Do you stop to look at anything?”

“I like roses,” I smile.

“And when was the last time you smelt the brilliance of a freshly cut red rose?”

“Years ago,” I sigh, “I’ve been too busy.”

Clarke smiles, “I suppose someone has to make sure the world runs smoothly.” 

With our eyes still locked onto the sunrise, he reaches across and touches my hand.

Emotion pours out of his touch.

Gentle and soft.

Tender and caring.

I share this intimate moment with a man I have never met before. 

My heart is taken away as we stare at the sunrise.

I don’t want this to end.

As the sun creeps above the skyline of the water, Clarke looks back towards me and smiles a charming smile.  Not able to resist his attractive eyes, I smile back. 

I am really going to enjoy this holiday….