Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
NATALIE
I was supposed to get married last Saturday. Yes, like six days ago . . .” I began as I slunk back dramatically in the plane’s window seat, pinching my nose between my fingers. Recounting in way too much detail for anybody, let alone a stranger, I finally finished the tale with a pronounced sigh.
“After that, I gave him back my ring and told him I got to keep our honeymoon since everything at that point was nonrefundable, and that’s how I ended up on this plane, heading to Hawaii, solo.” I opened my eyes and looked at the woman sitting in the aisle seat.
I could see my seatmate had no idea how to respond. And I couldn’t blame her. This was heartbreak at its finest as far as I was concerned. Her brows drew together, her lips puckered, and she rolled her eyes to one corner, then opened her mouth, closed it, and repeated her actions.
“While I’m sorry that has been your week, um, what I asked was if you knew if that seat was available”—she pointed to the vacant middle seat between us—“because if it was going to be empty, I would like to have my fiancé sit here. We got split up after buying our tickets last minute.”
“Right,” was all I could say, along with a flick of my wrist, offering up the spot.
I was immediately mortified at my overshare. Also, equally embarrassed that I had spent the last week pasting on a happy smile at work while constantly being one sneeze away from a manic breakdown. If only my co-workers knew I went home each night to the world’s largest pity party, complete with me playing “Perfect”—the Ed Sheeran song Dane had picked out for us on our third date—while I scrolled my phone, looking at the thousands of photos of us. Staring back at me, I saw us dressed for a night on the town, gussied up for one of the many galas we attended, matching flannels while camping, rosy-cheeked on a ski trip to Vail.
I put in my earbuds, pulled my sleep mask over my face, and tried to disappear before my seatmate’s very eyes.
I woke to the hard thunk of the plane’s wheels hitting the tarmac. Quickly wiping the accumulated drool off my face, I removed the sleep mask and gathered my bags. A pitiful glance from the happy couple who had spent the flight next to me was our parting goodbye.
Humidity hit me by the bucketful the minute I stepped into the airport, and the sweet smell of the nearby ocean wafted through my nostrils. The hurry of passengers grabbing luggage and racing to their rental car stations woke me out of my groggy state. Must get my car! Must get to the resort! Must begin my very sad solo honeymoon! I was out to win. Happy couples and ragged families were no match for my tenacity.
Except, nothing moves quickly in Hawaii. It took another two hours before I found myself loading into a doorless, roofless Jeep Wrangler, ready to start living the vacation life. I pulled my hair into a messy bun, donned my favorite sunglasses, plugged the resort’s address into the Jeep’s GPS, and took off along the Kamehameha Highway, heading north through the middle of the island.
Once out of the city, the island welcomed me with blue skies and bright sun. A thick rainforest in every shade of green imaginable flanked both sides of the roadway. The tension I had carried for the last week rolled off my shoulders. Cars thinned out the farther north I went, and I whizzed over rolling hills, home to pineapple fields of rich, red earth and perfectly lined up fruit clusters.
After climbing the last crest, my reward was the deep turquoise ocean in the distance. I smiled and felt free. The warm beach had always been my happy place. I handled dreary Portland thanks only to my annual visits to the Aloha state. Its recharging energies allowed me to juggle my relationship, race toward the next promised promotion at work, and attend the expected social calls that came with my current position during the other fifty weeks a year.
Except now, I didn’t have a relationship.
Planning to really milk that sadness later, I pushed the thought to the corner of my mind and glanced at the map on my dashboard where the GPS calculated I had about twenty minutes of drive left. All I needed was to check in and then I could get my toes in the sand, pretending work and my new, single life didn’t exist.
The rest of the way was uneventful as I navigated through small beach towns dotting the North Shore. I pulled into the exclusive resort and killed the engine at the valet. Giving the attendant my keys, I grabbed my suitcases and was welcomed by a doorman in khaki shorts and a floral button up, who immediately got somebody to take my luggage. The sweet smell of plumeria followed me through the open, breezy lobby to the front desk, smack into a line of travelers all with the same plans as me.
After taking my place at the back of the line, I finally powered on my phone, ready to face whatever had come my way while I traveled across the Pacific.
First up was a voicemail from Mom. “ Hi honey, hope you travel safely! You are so brave to go alone and put this whole debacle behind you. Listen, I don’t care what your aunts say. As you know, they conduct the family gossip train, but don’t worry about them. You’re not fleeing an embarrassing situation. You’re going on a hard-earned trip! Anyway, it’ll all fizzle soon. Shoot me a text when you land. Love you!”
The part about fleeing caused me to wince, partially agreeing with their assessment of me.
What was I fleeing from exactly? I was sad at the outcome of what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I had more going on at work right now than I could handle, but Mom was right: I couldn’t pass up the trip. Reminding myself it was paid for and earned, I shook the words off and deleted the voicemail.
My assistant, Kate, left the second voicemail. “ Hey, Natalie. I know you’re technically on your honeymoon, but Mr. Banks wanted me to remind you to check in with the account manager at the resort and have her sign that new contract. Also, if you remember, can you grab me a box of the chocolate-covered macadamia nuts from the gift shop? Have so much fun! I’ll keep you posted on life here.”
I sighed. Kate was still two and a half years away from thirty, while I was staring it down in mere months. She had no idea how lucky she was. The world was still her oyster, and if she wanted to get married today, I could name a handful of men who’d willingly line up before the end of the hour.
I toggled over to my work email where my inbox showed I had sixty-three new messages waiting for me. Blerg. My personal account showed I had one. From Dane. He emailed me? A week of silence and now this? No call, no text, but an email? What could he possibly want? I powered off my phone before I made the bad judgment call of opening it surrounded by people who would witness the dreaded ugly cry .
“Aloha, next?” called the impeccably dressed woman behind the counter.
“Hi, I have a reservation under Natalie Reddington,” I told her, mustering a smile.
She typed my name into the system and looked up, glancing around like she was looking for somebody else. Of course. My other half.
“Ah, yes. Dane Roberts and Natalie Reddington. For the honeymoon bungalow.” She looked up briefly once more, giving me an expressive smile, before turning again to the computer to read the packaged amenities. “All-inclusive meals at our two restaurants and access to unlimited room service. Nine nights. All paid for already. Good, good. Welcome back! Congratulations on the wedding. Where is the groom? I want to wish you both, on behalf of the Pineapple Bay Resort, a big aloha welcome, and as a VIP guest, we would like to credit a complimentary spa service for you both.”
Her smile was so warm and gracious. I kind of wanted to smack it off her face.
“It’s just going to be me,” I said quickly, swallowing hard before I teared up.
“Pardon?”
“No Dane,” I said and watched her form a hundred questions on her lips. “But it’s okay,” I assured myself more than her, while I straightened my posture. “I am really happy to be here, alone, and will totally take you up on that spa credit. In fact, I’ll take his too.”
“Yes, of course.” She recovered quickly. “I’m sorry for the change in plans, but let me get your room key ready for you.” She busied herself and then hesitated. “I am sorry to ask you, but we prepared your room in the honeymoon package style Mr. Roberts had purchased. Would you like us to send housekeeping up there to clean it up, and you can grab a drink at the bar?”
I had no idea Dane had splurged beyond our normal room for a bungalow closer to the water, as well as the all-inclusive meal package. This was after upgrading our car from a conservative sedan to the adventurous jeep. Couldn’t say I was surprised, though. He loved a good over-the-top gesture. As much as I didn’t want to know what the honeymoon package entailed, I also wanted to get settled in and get on the resort’s beach. And honestly, I was a ticking time bomb of all the emotions; the countdown was on, and I really did not need to erupt in the hotel’s lobby.
“No, I’m sure whatever you’ve done to the room will be very nice. Thank you,” I assured her as she handed me the room key.
I followed the bellman out the main building, and we silently moved along a winding, manicured pathway heading away from the well-attended part of the establishment, to one of the resort’s dozen stand-alone waterfront bungalows, complete with a hammock strung between two palm trees. I spied a private plunge pool at the edge of the lanai, which held two oversized lounge chairs—all giving way to a perfect view of the ocean. Idyllic from the outside, my heart constricted at what I would find inside.
I really hadn’t thought this through. I was mad at Dane and jumped on the plane out of spite. Now I was here, going on my honeymoon. Alone. On a romantic island and staying at the most romantic resort, in their most romantic bungalow. My tragic little tale must have made me look pathetic. The whole resort staff was going to find out about me as soon as the bellhop went back to his station and the front desk agent had a chance to go on break. I let out a short manic laugh, slipped the bellman a tip, and assured him I could let myself in.
The door opened to an intimate hideaway. The open concept sitting room, dining space, and small kitchenette were dusted in rose petals, with a large arrangement of orchids, ginger, and bird of paradise sitting on a coffee table in the center. Candles were sprinkled around the space in small groupings waiting to be lit.
I dropped my oversized leather tote on the floor with a sigh. This beyond beautiful space would be my home for the next ten days. My stomach clenched as I carefully ventured further.
Following a short hallway, I found the primary suite. A large, four-poster bed draped in luxury bedding faced a glass wall of windows that could fold to create an indoor-outdoor space offering a second way to the lanai and private pool. To the right of the bedroom was a door leading to a large en suite, complete with his and hers sinks, the largest walk-in shower I had ever seen, and a jacuzzi tub.
Upon closer inspection, I realized the tub was lined with LED candles already “lit,” and a trail of rose petals that had started at the bed. Orchids were strategically placed around this part of the bungalow as well, enveloping the room with their scent. A small sitting area in the bedroom boasted two oversized leather chairs, and in the corner sat another small table which had a large platter of strawberries, mango, and pineapple all dipped in dark chocolate.
“Well crap,” I said aloud. “This is completely romantic.”