Chapter 26
Just as Keston and I are sailing along full of love and good vibes, along comes a gale force wind, in the form of a tall, golden-brown goddess, to rock the boat.
“Darling,” gushes Tabitha St. Clair, lounging her body against the bar, one hip sticking out with a slim hand resting on it. Golden bangles jingle and chime whenever she flings her hand about, which is like every second.
“What a fabulous event. I told you it would be a success. And it is.”
When did she tell him that? How come I didn’t know about it? I stick the straw back in my mouth and suck on it for dear life so I don’t say anything I’ll regret.
“Thanks, Tabby.” Keston slides a Frosty Mermaid her way and she eyes it like it’s a keg of dynamite.
“Darling, you know I don’t do sugarrrrr.” She rolls the “r” out so her mouth is all pouty and cute. Like the rest of her in a stunning iridescent mini dress, with strappy sandals that elongate her toned legs.
I try my best not to roll my eyes.
When Keston slides down to the other end of the bar, Tabitha tilts her head and says, “You always look ready to rumble. Is that a New York thing?”
“Mmm, sure.” I don’t usually get intimidated easily, but this woman is Keston’s friend. Who helped him through his ordeal in the hospital. I can’t hate her. But I don’t have to like her either.
And why didn’t I dress up a bit more? Always in my jeans and tank top as if I fear being stranded on an island again with nothing but a designer swimsuit. For the record, I am afraid of that happening. Which is why I wear jeans, tank tops, and sneakers almost every time I go out on the island.
When I first arrived, I was a diva. Now, I’m practical and ready for anything. Live and learn.
Keston returns with a special drink for Tabitha. “No sugar,” he says. It looks like a glass of water to me. She slides her red lips around the straw like she’s a porn star.
Keston reaches behind his back and squeezes my knee. My heart does a somersault. I’m on edge for no reason. But I would like to know why these two beautiful people ended their relationship.
They match up so well. They’re the same age. They’ve known each other forever. They are both tall and gorgeous. They share a culture. Most of the time I don’t understand what they’re saying to each other when they speak in their dialect.
What do Kes and I have in common?
Other than a great sex life? Nothing! Not our culture, history, age bracket, or looks. I’m not ugly, but I’m no goddess like Tabitha.
Keston spins around as if he can read my thoughts. He’s probably going to say something reassuring to me. Let me know that despite our differences, I am part of him, deep in his heart, and nothing can break us up.
“Babe,” he says staring into my eyes.
“Yes?” I murmur, ready to smile.
“Can you move a little bit over, please? I need to get more club soda from the cupboard behind you.”
I jump down from the stool and hustle out of the way so Keston and Dex can grab what they need to keep the drinks flowing.
With no drink in hand, no seat near Keston, and no friend to talk to, I head down to the beach area. Groups of friends and family occupy all the lounge chairs and cabanas.
I don’t know any of the hotel guests. And the islanders are all by the bar area.
I wander down to the water’s edge. Slip off my brand new, pale pink Vans and roll up the bottom of my jeans. I step into the shallows where baby waves roll across my insteps. The sea is warm and leaves bubbles of foam on my toes.
With a thousand stars sprinkled across the sky and a half-moon shining a path of light across the dark sea, I feel as if I’m the only person in the world.
Don’t feel sorry for yourself, CJ. This is his job. He’s busy. You need to find something to do here so you can meet people. Make friends. Get a life.
The last time I made any friends was at college. Me and my friend group of five women have stuck together for over twenty years. I don’t even know where to start to make new friends.
At that moment a splash of water makes me jump back out of the waves. A school of silvery fish leap into the air together and dive back into the sea, all in sync. There must be a large fish chasing them for his supper. Keston explained this to me on No Man’s Land the first day we were stuck there.
“It’s a fish-eat-fish world out here,” I say aloud.
“Tell me about it,” a voice slurs in the shadows.
I scream and grab my Vans from the sand ready to run back to the bar.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m Kelley Kips, your boyfriend’s brother.”
“What the hell?” I bark. “No, you’re not. Don’t come any closer.”
The man in the shadows emerges slowly, the scent of overproof rum leaking from his pores.
“Don’t come any closer,” I say again, this time with menace. My pink Vans are the only thing I can use to protect myself. I’ll throw them if I must.
“I have a secret,” the voice slurs.
He steps completely out of the shadows. I gasp. The man standing before me, swaying like a coconut tree in a strong breeze, is the spitting image of my Keston. Tall, handsome, muscles upon muscles.
Except for one thing.
He doesn’t have dark skin. He’s a very tanned or mixed-race dude.
My heart crashes into my chest. Is this a joke? Am I being punked?
“I have a secret. About the diary,” the man who looks exactly like Keston, but for his skin color, says.
I feel the sand coming up to greet me. I’ve had too much to drink. Or I’m going crazy.