How to Honeymoon Alone

“Hi,” I whisper.

He smiles, and it’s a wondrous thing. “You’re glorious.”

And I surprise myself by believing it.

I have the beautiful turquoise sea in front of me. There’s warm sand beneath me, so lovely I had to slip off my sandals and bury my feet, just because. And there’s a piña colada with a purple umbrella on the table next to my lounge chair.

And I can’t quite concentrate on any of it because of the man sitting next to me. He’s fully stretched out on the lounger, his body tanned and muscled, and his hair shockingly dark against the white towel.

Phillip walked over a little before noon, and seeing me here, had chosen the chair next to mine. Good morning, he’d said; the tone of his voice not hiding what happened between us last night. It brought a blush to my cheeks.

We hadn’t spoken about yesterday yet. I’m unsure if there’s much to say, or if daytime Eden can talk about what Eden of the night did.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s reading something on his phone that has absorbed his attention for the past ten minutes, but he still looks relaxed. And handsome. For some reason, he hadn’t let me reciprocate last night.

I look back out at the open ocean.

“This,” I say, “is the life.”

Phillip makes a non-committal sound.

“I’ll probably never stay at a resort this good again.” I stretch out my bare legs. They’re finally shifting from pink to a light tan now.

“Mm-hmm,” he says. Then he puts his phone down on the side table between us and looks over at me. “Why?”

“Because this place cost me a month’s salary,” I say. “But if there is a travel bug, it’s bitten me pretty much everywhere. I can’t imagine not traveling abroad again after this trip.”

“You should. You’re great at making the most of wherever you are.”

“Is that a sly way of mocking my guidebook?”

He runs a hand along his jaw to hide his smile. “No. It was a genuine compliment.”

“See, when someone uses sarcasm as much as you, it’s very hard to take you seriously.”

“I’ve been told that before,” he says, and there’s such seriousness in his voice that I roll my eyes.

“See? It’s when you do that.”

“But I bring joy to all those around me. Are you asking me to stop?”

“You’re impossible,” I say and turn on my side to face him fully. “You know, if I’d never-”

The phone between us starts to ring.

Phillip stares at it without making a move to answer. His hair is usually brushed back, but it’s messy now, dark and ruffled in the ocean breeze.

“You’re ignoring it?”Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Thinking about ignoring it, at least,” he says. “I already know it’s an attorney at my firm. He’s an idiot.”

“Doesn’t he know you’re on vacation?”

“Oh, he sure does.”

I reach for the phone, pausing with my hand over it. “Can I?”

Dark-blue eyes meet mine, and there’s that dimple again, flashing briefly as he smiles. “Go right ahead. His name is Briggs.”

“You won’t regret it,” I say and answer the call. “This is Phillip Meyer’s phone,” I say in my brightest, most teacher-y voice.

“Who’s this?” a frazzled male voice asks on the other end. “Is he around?”

“My name is Eden, and yes, he is,” I say sweetly.

“Well, can you put him on?”

I look across at Phillip. He’s resting his head on his hand and watching me, amusement shining in his blue eyes.

“No, I can’t,” I say. “He’s on vacation.”

The man on the line sighs. “Yeah, I know, but he’s needed. Put him on.”

“You’re Briggs. Right?”

There’s a pause. “Yes.”

“Well, Mr. Meyer is a hardworking member of the team and is, at present time, enjoying two weeks of his earned vacation. All we ask is that these days are respected. And Briggs? He’s spoken highly of you and your work ethic. I have every confidence that you’re fully equipped to handle whatever crisis has just occurred. You have the voice of a competent man.”

Phillip is grinning now.

“Um, thanks. Right. Well… I’ll send him an email, then.”

“Don’t,” I say, “unless someone is dying. Is someone dying, Briggs?”

“No.”

“Then, he’ll be back in the office in due time. Have a great day!” I say and hang up. My hand is shaking when I put the phone back down on the table. “Oh my God, that was an adrenaline rush!”

“You have,” Phillip parodies, “the voice of a competent man?”

I chuckle. “A little flattery never hurts?”

He grins. “You really are wild.”

“That’s two superlatives in one week. Am I really that crazy?”

“You just never react the way I expect you to. Hell,” he says and chuckles darkly, “that probably made my year.”