Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
M attie stared down with delight at sparkling ocean waves from the kind of helicopter used by people who had no idea that money was anything other than a way to keep score. She was headed to a tropical island so remote she’d had trouble finding it on a map, with five men she didn’t know, to a place she’d never heard of, to live and breathe music and nature for an entire month. She’d never taken this kind of break before. They were supposed to be working, but there was a beach, and adult beverages, and songwriting had never felt like work. This might as well be a monthlong vacation from everything.
There was no way to drive to Syer Island. There were no bridges to connect it with any other island in Seychelles. It was the very definition of isolation.
She hadn’t received a call, text, or notice of a tweet the entire twelve hours they’d been in the air. It felt strange and a little unsettling to be so out of touch.
“There it is.” Adam pointed toward land in the distance. “ See the cliff? The main house is up there. The villas are below.”
Adam’s thigh touched hers as he leaned closer to the window. She felt the warmth of him through the thin material of her skirt, which stirred all the nerve endings along that side of her body. She dragged her mind back from the blossoming images of her lying somewhere beachy with Adam and focused it instead on the job she’d been hired to do.
She had a song to write. Three songs. This was a working relationship. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, just so Adam wouldn’t wonder why she was so quiet.
Adam leaned closer. “Yes. Very.”
Why did those two words send a little thrill down her spine? For heaven’s sake, he was just talking about the view.
When they landed, she stepped out of the helicopter and into a fantasy. They were greeted by fresh sea breezes, rhythmic music, and a line of happy faces dressed in crisp white shirts and shorts.
The luggage, including the instruments and gear, traveled behind them by boat, so Mattie carried only the bag that contained her essential notebooks and pens.
A tall blond man in khaki pants and a white button-down shirt stepped forward and snapped photos with his heavy professional camera as they exited the helicopter.
“Welcome to Syer Island!” he called out. “Smile, you’ve just stepped into paradise!”
Mattie swore under her breath at the intrusion and instinctively shied away. It was a silly overreaction. He wasn’t paparazzi. Not really. But she hadn’t expected it. What if the photos of all of them together got out before she was ready? What if Devon saw them? How would he react ?
Adam stepped in front of her with his hands outstretched. “Hey, man. No photos.”
The photographer lowered his camera and smiled the broad smile used by con men everywhere. “Don’t worry man. I’m not the press.”
Adam remained in between her and the photographer in a protective wide stance.
“I don’t give a shit who you are. You have a camera in our face, and we don’t want it there.” Adam’s tone was low and dangerous, like he was her own personal attack dog.
It was ridiculous, but it made her feel safer than she had in a long time.
The photographer held his hand out in apparent apology. “My name is Don, and I’m the official Syer Island memory maker. At the end of the trip, you’ll get a flash drive with all the images I take of your entire group, plus a video montage, and prints if you want.”
Adam shook his head. “No. We don’t want. We don’t want any photography of any kind. No videos, no shots, no prints. Nothing. Got me?”
Don glanced around at the others, but they gave him cold stares in return. He shouldered the camera and nodded. “Your call. No problem. Have a great stay.”
Don sauntered off down the path, whistling.
Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, though the encounter had left her feeling unsettled. She had a sudden urge to check her phone for Twitter updates.
At the edge of the landing area, they were greeted by a line of people who surged forward to greet them.
A man about her height, with high cheek bones, the deepest brown eyes she’d ever seen, and a small scar above his right eyebrow stepped up to her. “Welcome, welcome, Miss Bellamy. I am your personal butler. It is my pleasure to help you with your bag. I am Abayomi, which means bringer of great joy. Come with me, I will show you to your new home.”
His attitude was infectious. She found herself smiling back at him. “Nice to meet you, Abayomi. Please, call me Mattie.”
When he reached for her shoulder bag, she shook her head. “I’ll take this.”
“It is no trouble, Miss Mattie, no trouble at all. I have strong muscles, you see?” He held up one bicep and flexed it, which made her giggle. “If you like, I can take your things to your home while you explore?”
She glanced at the others. They were all being similarly accosted by helpful staff.
Adam gestured for his own butler, a short, spry woman with a little gray in her hair but a young-looking face, to lead the way. He caught Mattie looking waved. “Go get settled. We’ll meet up for dinner at sunset.”
“This way, Miss Mattie.” Abayomi gestured for her to follow, then led the way down a weathered boardwalk to a pathway of smooth packed dirt to the south. It ran under a canopy of tropical trees and bushes on one side, open to the bright white sand and crystal-blue ocean on the other.
The only noise along the way was Abayomi’s cheerful chatter and the soothing sounds of ocean waves.
“We are excited to have you stay with us. Anything you need, anything at all, you are to tell Abayomi immediately. I am all yours. I take care of your villa like it was my own home. Do you like a drink of coffee or tea in the mornings, Miss Mattie? I can make sure it is ready for you when you wake.”
“Coffee, please. With cream.” She felt a little overwhelmed by the attention. She lived casually simple most of the time. She didn’t even have a cleaning crew. She cooked all her own meals and didn’t go out much, and when she did it was to small, local places where nobody would know her .
Even when The Bellamy Sisters were at the height of their popularity, she hadn’t really enjoyed the lavish lifestyle of the rich and famous. She’d avoided most of it, most of the time. She was always going to be the small-town girl from Tennessee. Even if she had lost most of the accent and roamed a long way from home, it was still a part of her.
Abayomi glanced over his shoulder and beamed at her. “Miss Mattie, we are in the villa near the turn far ahead. It is a long walk. Are you tired from your journey? We can take a car.”
“A car?” She hadn’t seen any sort of road, much less vehicle, until they reached a small clearing filled with several four-seater golf carts. Abayomi placed her suitcase on the back seat and ushered her into the passenger seat.
“I take you this way, so that you are not too tired. You relax now, Miss Mattie. I will get you home. See to the left? That is where we play the volleyball. If you go north from the landing, that is the path to the Big House on the cliff.”
She nodded and let him rattle on about the many things there were to do on the island. After a short drive, they approached a clearing, which opened up to reveal a large, thatched-roof, open-air building on the right and a pit of comfortable chairs on the sand to the left.
Abayomi stopped the cart and waved at it. “This is the dining place. You come here when you are hungry, yes? Or you call me. Or you go to the Big House. This on the right we call Sunset Beach. You will come here tonight, yes? Yes, it is very nice. There will be music, and dancing, and stars, and waves. What more could anyone want, yes?”
“It’s perfect,” she assured him.
By the time they reached the first villa, Mattie was glad they’d taken the cart.
Abayomi zipped past what looked like a large, open-air hut, with walls completely open to the elements and a living room that took full advantage of the view. Nobody was inside.
“How far down is my room?” Mattie asked.
“We are number nine, Miss Mattie. There are ten homes on this side of the island, not counting the Big House at the north end. It is very private. You will love this, it is an escape, no?”
“Yes, it is. There are ten of these? How many stay in each one?” She wondered if the band was all sharing one house. As they passed the second hut, she thought it looked more than big enough for seven people.
“It is your home, Miss Mattie. It is yours. None other will stay, unless of course you invite them.” He grinned at her. “This island has a way with love, so who is to say how long you will wish to be alone.”
She processed that information. “How big are these homes?”
“450 square meters.”
Mattie tried to do the math in her head, but the number she came up with couldn’t possibly be right. “These villas are five thousand square feet?”
Abayomi screwed up his nose in concentration, then brightened and nodded. “Yes, Miss Mattie. Each home has an indoor and outdoor shower, a pool, fully provided kitchen and bar, as well as space for massage and private exercise. Anything you want, you pick up the phone, Miss Mattie. I will make it happen. I am your, how they say, fairy godfather. I want to make your stay the best memory.”
She gaped at the next one they passed. How many had it been? Seven? Eight? “Do we each have our own villa?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” Abayomi nodded emphatically. “Arrangements were made for each to have space to, what did they say, retreat. We are here, Miss Mattie.”
He brought the cart to a stop in front of Villa 9, according to the hand-carved sign out front. She could just make out Adam’s golf cart and Villa 10 through the trees ahead. He was right next door.
Why did she find the idea of that so disconcerting?
“This way, Miss Mattie. Just up these steps.” Abayomi led the way across a deck filled with overstuffed lounge chairs and a plunge pool to the open-air living room of the villa.
“There’s no wall?” Mattie stepped slowly over the threshold and glanced around, but there was nothing to stop the ocean breeze from flowing in and out the entire front of the villa along with the sound of the waves.
“The wall slides back to allow nature inside your heart, Miss Mattie.” Abayomi gestured to a control panel discreetly hidden behind a plant in the corner. “If you wish the glass to close, you simply press the button.”
The living room faced the ocean, with the kitchen and bar behind it also facing out. Everything from the furniture to the side walls was bamboo, tropical charm, and serenity. The overall effect was an invitation to escape into another reality, one where walls weren’t required. “There’s no front door? People just come in?”
It felt both too exposed and dangerously free.
Abayomi gave her an understanding smile. “This island is yours, Miss Mattie. None will bother you here. But the walls lock if you wish, as do the bedroom doors.”
She blinked, non-plussed by the idea of leaving the entire front of the house open.
Her phone buzzed. She must have stepped into a Wi-Fi hotspot because when she fished it out of her purse at least a dozen text messages pinged one after the other.
“This way, Miss Mattie.” Abayomi led her down a hall toward the bedrooms, pointing out the features of the villa along the way. “There are three bedrooms, each with a private bath, plus the master suite. The library is to the right of the kitchen and includes a game system and other activities for your amusement. I will be here in the morning and evening, to be sure all is as it should be. If you require anything, you have but to pick up the house phone and ask.”
Mattie followed him, but her phone kept demanding her attention. Two texts from Della begged her to call back, three from Kat detailed possible new projects, and one from Lizzie asked if she made it okay.
Abayomi set her suitcase on a small stand at the foot of the bed and gestured to the door in the corner. His smile was kind enough to melt some of the tension from her shoulders. “There is a refreshing shower waiting for you, and food and drink in the kitchen.”
“Thank you. This is amazing.” Her phone dinged, and a text from Piper appeared with a link to another gossip blog, which showed Mattie arriving at the airport with the headline Bellamy Babe Hunting for Next Victim?
Piper sent along a helpful comment. Make sure there’s no cameras at that resort.
“ How am I supposed to do that?” she wondered out loud.
Abayomi gently took the phone away from her.
She started to protest, but he shook his head and with a kind expression laid it carefully in the nightstand drawer, then slid the drawer closed. The muffled ding of incoming texts sounded almost resentful.
Abayomi studied her with an understanding, almost fatherly gaze. “You must relax, Miss Mattie, and take in paradise. She will warm your soul, if you let her.”
She smiled, feeling a little rueful. “It’s easy to say, but not so easy to do.”
“While you are here, leave the things that bring you stress in the drawers, and only take with you the things that bring you joy.”
He opened the closet door and waved his hand. “Remove the outside world from your shoulders, and be with us, in this moment. While you are here, this is all that matters. The rest of the world will be there when you have reclaimed yourself. It will wait, Miss Mattie.”
“I’m not sure I want it to wait on me.” If Devon found someone new to fixate on, that would be ideal. “But I understand what you’re saying. I’ll try to really be here, and not there. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Miss Mattie.” He bowed his head, then left.
Mattie was tempted to take the phone back out of the drawer, but she resisted the urge. Maybe just one night, she would see how long she could go without the constant interruption. She pulled a change of clothes out of her suitcase, then went to explore the outdoor shower.
Ten minutes under the refreshing stream of water, surrounded by lush green plants and the sound of the ocean, and Mattie realized Kat had been right. This was the perfect place to get away from cameras and social media and gossip blogs and most of all, sisters.
She was glad she came.