Chapter 11 #3
I look forward to it too. I’ve got to go. I didn’t buy an international plan, so these texts might be costing me like 50 cents
apiece.
Stay. I’ll Venmo you.
She smiled again, finding herself pleased he wanted to keep talking.
Aren’t you at work?
Yes, but everyone else is at lunch.
Aw, are you having a sad desk lunch all by yourself, Olson? ?
Alas, the price I have to pay to be able to jet off to Mexico on short notice, Jameson.
That, or Torres insisted on Thai takeout for the hundredth time this month, and you don’t like fish sauce so were looking
for an excuse not to join.
How do you know I don’t like fish sauce?
Emmy felt like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Put to a test, she could list several facts about
Gabe Olson she’d collected over the years, mostly by osmosis. Working in close quarters with someone tended to reveal their
quirks and preferences. Like how he liked his coffee black, linked paper clips into chains when he was thinking hard, always
chose the green marker when he wrote on the whiteboard, and had mentioned on more than one occasion he actually found fish
sauce too potent despite the office’s general affection for Thai takeout.
You’ve mentioned it before. Down with fish sauce; down with oat milk.
True on the first, but I’m reformed on the second, remember?
Oh, right. I forgot you’ve come over to the oaty side.
Happy to be here.
We’re up to like $15 in texts here...
The price of an oat milk latte, how appropriate.
Emmy snorted a laugh and realized she couldn’t put a price on the way texting with him made her feel. She didn’t care how
high her phone bill got.
But I’ll let you go. Back to work anyway. See you tomorrow.
Thanks again for doing this. It means a lot to me.
You’re welcome. Oh, actually one more thing—
Yes?
The ex situation. We didn’t really get a chance to talk about it...
Her belly bottomed out with worry over what he was going to say at the same time a wave of embarrassment washed over her that
they needed to discuss it at all.
Right. That.
What’s his name?
Jacob.
Do you want me to do anything?
She tilted her head in confusion, unsure what he meant.
Do anything?
Yeah, you know like in movies. Like pretend to be your boyfriend or anything.
“Oh!” she said out loud with a breathy laugh. She could somehow feel Gabe blushing through the phone. Her own rose-colored
face made her think of how sweet he’d looked when he’d shown up in the park with flowers for Bird Girl, and here he was being
sweet again. At the same time, her blood raced liquid hot through her veins. Did she want him to be her boyfriend? The question felt too loaded to approach, even facetiously.
Not gonna lie, I thought you might offer to punch him in the face.
I mean, I will if you want me to.
Emmy snort-laughed, knowing he was joking.
Not necessary. And no, you don’t have to pretend to be anything. My sister confirmed he’s only coming to the ceremony and
reception, so it’s not like we’ll be hanging out with him all weekend.
Got it. You’re the boss.
I am. Get back to work!
See you in Mexico, Bird Girl.
Emmy set her phone aside with a sigh. That had gone better than expected, but the same as their whole complicated situation
in general, there was a difference between what they said in text and facing it down in real life. She’d warned him they’d
have to share, but they still had to... actually share.
With a nervous tumble of her stomach, she sat up to prepare.
The room was spacious but clearly not designed with privacy in mind. Aside from the closet, bathroom, and balcony, there was
nowhere to hide unless she built a fort out of sheets over the small dining table in the corner. No, this room was designed
for intimacy. People didn’t book an oceanfront king with creamy linens and fluttering curtains to not touch each other inside it.
At least the toilet had its own little closet-size door, but the rest of the bathroom—a palatial sweep of brown marble and
glass with a drive-in shower stall and a tub big enough to swim laps—screamed romantic getaway. The wall above the bathtub
even had a set of shutters that opened into the bedroom facing the bedside, in case one lover wanted to watch the other bathe.
By herself, the room was glorious. Opulent. A much-needed escape into indulgent luxury. But the thought of Gabe’s presence
inside it with her—his cologne, his warmth, the way they would inevitably bump into each other despite their best efforts—had
her hot with nerves. Or perhaps hot with something else that she couldn’t look directly in the eye.
Thoroughly intimidated, Emmy silently cursed her sister for sentencing her to such a fate and then set about unpacking.
She hung her clothes in precisely half of the closet and used ex actly one-half of the dresser drawers.
In the bathroom, she placed her toiletries around one of the two sinks and then reached in again to cluster them tighter when she saw her facial cleanser had crossed the midline toward the other side.
She struggled to imagine someone who always looked as put together and perfect as Gabe Olson using such pedestrian things like toothpaste and deodorant, but in one short day, all his personal effects would be on display alongside hers.
The fact secretly thrilled her.
She may as well have rolled a strip of tape down the center of the room to mark it his and hers, but she was satisfied with
her work once finished.
As instructed, she pulled out her phone to text her sister.
I’m settled. Where are you?
Piper responded within a few seconds.
Villa 2. You can walk from your room. Bring your suit.
Of course they had a villa. Emmy silently wondered if it had a spare room she could escape to and leave Gabe their room to
himself.
Once she had slathered herself in sunscreen, stripped down to a bikini and loose cover-up, and thrown her phone, water bottle,
and wallet into a tote bag, she found the map the woman at the desk had given her. Villa 2 sat to the north of her building
and somehow even closer to the sea.
Emmy broke the seal of her air-conditioned room and stepped back into the hallway.
Her flip-flops pleasantly smacked the tile as she returned to the elevator, much more comfortable in her loose and flowing clothing now.
Outside, the sun still beat down from above, but a gentle breeze cooled the ocean side of the building when she got there.
The Caribbean rolled and tumbled onto the shore to her right, the color palette completely different from anything back home.
The powder-white sand and crystal water were almost hard to look at for being so vibrant.
Her brain could hardly process the colors.
Lounge chairs and umbrellas dotted the beach with sunbathers basking in the heat.
The sweet, thick smell of coconut and cream threaded into the misty air, either from the cocktails melting in sandy glasses, the oil and sunblock, or the actual coconuts growing on trees.
It was Wish you were here postcard perfect, and Emmy found herself smiling.
She followed a path to the end of her building and saw a small cluster of stucco houses in a shady grove of palm trees. Each
had its own walkway and enough space between the next to allow privacy. Villa 2 hid behind a lush garden. Emmy almost didn’t
see the hand-painted address tile thanks to the crash of flaming pink bougainvillea draping the front doorway. Birds-of-paradise
poked their spiky little heads in every direction like a curious flock beneath the front windows, and a forest of squat palms
brushed her legs as she made her way up the path.
She could not even fathom what Ben and Piper were shelling out per night for this place.
When Emmy reached for the doorbell, because of course there was a doorbell, she noted a second hand-painted tile below the
one marking it Villa 2. Bridal Villa. She smiled again.
She half expected a butler to open the door, but instead, it was her sister. Barefoot and wearing a gauzy white cover-up over
a pink bikini and holding a tumbler with clinking ice.
“Hi. Um... wow? ” Emmy greeted. “And here I thought my room was nice.”
Piper casually waved her hand and welcomed her in. “Yeah. At least we don’t have to share the bridal villa with the other
wedding couple too.”
Emmy followed her into a space equally as beautiful as the outside.
Kitchen, living room—actual doors closing off bedrooms. Every thing was marble and sandstone, the beach out the back doors clearly private, and to top it off, they had their own pool.
A peanut-shaped puddle three shades bluer than the teal sea just beyond it.
“Piper, this is incredible,” Emmy gushed.
She expected another dismissive this is my life now hand wave, but instead, she heard a hard sob that pierced her right in the heart.
Emmy immediately dropped her bag and pulled her sister into her arms. Piper was taller, so her chin landed on Emmy’s shoulder.
Still, Emmy cradled her against her like a little sister and stroked her hair. She saw over her shoulder Piper had set up
camp at the breakfast bar, a slab of icy marble, with a bottle of tequila and bag of Takis.
“Everything is going to be all right,” she promised her. “Mom and Dad are on the way. Your dreamboat fiancé is out there walking
to the ends of the earth to make you happy. Your friends are coming. Everyone will be here together, and it will all work
out.”
Piper shuddered in her arms and said something Emmy was not at all expecting. “I wish Josh was here.”
Oh.
Mention of their brother stunned Emmy into silence. A hot wall of pain slammed into her and nearly closed off her throat.
She suddenly couldn’t breathe.
Piper pushed back and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking of him a lot lately because I hate that he can’t be here
for this. I was doing okay with it, and then things went wrong with the hotel, and it was like the last straw. This dam broke