Avery

I managed to avoid Luke and everyone else for most of the day on Saturday, the day of Bucket and Ingrid’s sunset beach wedding. Saturdays are the day when I usually catch up on my magazine reading—The Economist, Forbes, Wired, Entrepreneur, Fortune, Inc, Fast Company and The New Yorker. I also go online to browse Bustle, Instagram and the BBC World News—I am nothing if not well-rounded. As it was the weekend, nobody could tell me not to read. Of course, when I say “read,” I mean that I stared at the same sentence for half an hour while thinking about Luke and wondering if he found our little beach/seashell interlude as wonderful as I did. So wonderful that I had to tell him I would take dinner in my room that night, claiming that I needed to catch up on work. It wasn’t a lie. It was a lot of work keeping myself from ripping his clothes off and gathering up the courage to tell him I had been lying to him about my relationship status for months, simply because I didn’t want him to think I spent hours home alone thinking about him on weekends while he was off gallivanting with glamorous European women in Milan or whatever.

I was on my second tiny bottle of wine (I had swiped four of them from the kitchen when the chef was out shopping), I had my no make-up make-up on, I had on my fuchsia-colored maxi dress, and it was a half an hour before sunset when I’d realized it was my niece’s birthday and I hadn’t called her yet.

I clicked the FaceTime icon on my laptop and fully expected my sister to text me the words “YOU ARE DEAD TO US,” but the video call started connecting right away.

“I’m the worst aunt in the world I’m so sorry!”

All I could see was the blur of the floor as Jackie ran towards her “office” while yelling out “It’s Aunt Avery she says ‘happy birthday’ but she has an emergency I’ll be right back!” After hearing the sound of the bathroom door closing, Jackie took a moment to catch her breath before holding up her phone and looking at me. “The party started forty minutes ago and I want everyone to go home.”

“That’s how I’ve felt at literally every party I’ve ever been to. I’m so sorry I haven’t called yet.”

“It’s fine, she’s still so in love with Mr. Bunny you could disappear until Christmas and she wouldn’t notice.”

“Thanks!”

“Soooo? Did you spoon again last night? What’s going on over there? Tell me everything.”

“Oh um, you know, we had a nice little walk on the beach yesterday evening and just kind of chatted and got a long really well, and, I don’t know, I’ve been busy so I guess I’ll see him in a little bit at the wedding or whatever. What kind of cake did you get for Franny?”

“You are killing me.”

I opened up a third tiny bottle of wine. “What?! What do you want from me? I basically took him hostage two nights ago while under the influence of a controlled substance, I’m trying to play it cool.”

“So you haven’t told him that you’re single yet.”

I shrugged. “It’s never the right moment.”

“And you haven’t been straightforward with him about your attraction.”

“I mean, it’s not really my style, you know. How would I even do that?”

“Here’s what you do,” she said. “You walk right up to him, all pretty-like, you look him in the eyes and you say: Oy. Fancy a fuck?”

I spat out my wine. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m not in the Bahamas, that’s what’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with you?” She held up her phone so she could look directly into the camera. “Seriously, Ave. What is wrong with you?”

I didn’t laugh or have a funny comeback, because my sister wasn’t laughing or smiling. She was completely serious. And I didn’t know how to answer that question at the moment.

She looked away, took a deep breath, and then held the camera closer to her face. “Hey,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just scared. And you don’t have to be. Just tell him how you feel, kid. People all over the world do it all the time, and it doesn’t kill them. Usually.”

My eyes were watery. It was ridiculous. Now my mascara was running. Fantastic. Thanks, Sis!

“I love you,” she said. “Go.” She ended the call.

I picked up my phone, and wrote Luke a text.

Luke

I was about to knock on Avery’s door when I received a text from her.

Avery Davis: Hey sailor. Wanna walk down to the beach together? If you aren’t already there?

I knocked on the door. “It’s me. You ready to head on down?”

“How did you get here so fast?!” she called out. “Comin’!”

I waited for about one minute, but she didn’t come to the door. I knocked again. “Sorry, did you say you’re ‘coming’ or did you say ‘come in?’”

“Door’s unlocked,” she said. “Come in.”

I opened the door. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, in a beautiful pink dress, polishing off a tiny bottle of wine, and staring at me.

“You look nice,” I said. Brilliant. Some real James Bond dialogue there.

“Shut the door,” she said.

I shut the door. What happened next happened so quickly, I could barely process it at the time. She carefully placed the empty little wine bottle on the floor, stood up, took several steps towards me, grabbed me, and kissed me. She said: “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.” She kissed me again, and this time I kissed her back. She pulled away again. “I mean, I lied about having a boyfriend. I’m single and I have a career schedule that I’m trying to stick to and I’ve been so afraid of falling for you so I lied about having a boyfriend.” She kissed me again and then pulled away. “I mean, Mr. Potter is real. He’s a personal massager.” You’re dating a massage therapist??? I must have been staring at her with a confused look on my face, imagining a live-in masseur, because she continued. “It’s a vibrator.”

“Oh,” was all I could say.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard. My sister was right. I should have told you that months ago.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Forget I said anything. That was stupid. We better get to the wedding.” She wiped her lipstick from my lips.

And then she stared at me, her eyes on fire. I placed my hands on either side of her face, and took her in, in a way that I couldn’t before. She was so gorgeous. She reached up and moved my thumb into her mouth, sucked on it, slowly, closing her eyes and savoring it, then looking up at me.

That was it.

I couldn’t restrain myself anymore. My hands went to her ass, I pulled her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist while I carried her to the sofa. “Tonight is about Bucket and Ingrid!” she said.

“Yes and I think they’d both want us to do this.” I sat myself down, she hiked up her dress and straddled me, hastily unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt while I held her breasts and squeezed them, kissing the smooth bare skin that had been taunting me for three days.

“So do I, oh shit, I want this.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” She wasn’t wearing anything under the top of her dress. I wanted to put my mouth on her hard nipples, I wanted to kiss her all over, but this wasn’t the right time. Or was it? My fingers started to pull the straps of her dress down off her shoulders.

“Wait. We can’t do this. I don’t want things to change between us.” Her hands found my behind. “Oh my God, you’re in such good shape.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Talk about work—how are the day to day operational mechanics looking?” She squeezed.

“We’ve done an amazing job of cultural integration between the two organizations, in all functional areas.” I licked her neck.

“Yes. Shit!”

“God, I want you, I can’t wait.” I started to unbuckle my belt—I could no longer think straight.

“We can’t let them start without us,” she whispered.

“They haven’t started yet it’s fine.”

“I can’t be late to my client’s wedding,” she said, while bearing down on me and rocking her pelvis back and forth.

I held tight around her hips. “He’s my client too—this will only take a minute.”

She pulled back to look at me, and said, as her hand reached down, “I don’t want to take a minute.”

I groaned. I was so hard. She made a noise that I’d like to think meant she was pleasantly surprised by what she found there. When my hands slid up the outside of her thighs, she sighed, and when my fingers found her warm, wet panties—we both froze as we heard a knock on the door.

“Miss Avery?” It was Samson. “The ceremony is about to begin, if you’d like to join us on the beach, please.” He hesitated, then said: “If you know of Mr. Luke’s whereabouts, please ask him to join us too.”

Avery covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “I’ll let him know—we’ll be right there! I mean I’ll be right there and so will he, separately!”

“Very good, Miss.” I could tell Samson was smiling. He knew that I was there with her, he was no fool.

She quickly buttoned up my shirt while I ensured that her luscious breasts were securely tucked away inside the top of her beautiful dress.

“We still have to work together,” she said, disappearing to the restroom and returning with a damp face cloth with which to wipe her lipstick off of my face.

“I know, we’re so lucky,” I said.

She laughed. “You know what I mean.” She tidied up her own face.

“I am quite capable of being discreet,” I assured her, while walking around the room, taking deep breaths and thinking about my grandmother’s country garden, in an attempt to rid myself of some pretty glaring physical evidence of the rather hasty work we had just done together.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have found a better time to—”

“Do not apologize for that. To be continued.”

“Should I go out first?”

“Certainly, yes, go ahead.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Don’t—”

“I know but I didn’t mean to get you all—”

“See you down there!” I said. “Be right behind you.”

“Okay.” She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, checked herself in the mirror again and went out the door.

As soon as she’d gone I started laughing. “What the hell just happened?” What had she just told me? Something about her dating a vibrator? One of our clients was about to get married and we were groping each other like teenagers in the backseat of a car. I had to get it together. She’d probably lost all respect for me already. Now she thought I was just some repressed horny git who couldn’t keep it in his pants once an attractive woman showed any interest in him. What is she doing to me?

I heard a Van Morrison song playing from the speakers on the patio and knew I was about to do yet another Hugh Grant imitation as I arrived late to a wedding.

Avery

I had barely caught my breath and found a spot on the sand amongst less than ten people, when I saw Luke appear, looking dashing and unfazed, just as “Into the Mystic” started fading away and Bucket and Ingrid joined hands and faced Samson.

It really was a casual ceremony—simple and perfect. There were Tiki torches, candles in hurricane lanterns and string lights, designating a special ceremony area, and an altar of bamboo, bougainvillea and palm fronds, where Samson and Bucket and Ingrid stood, with the ocean and sunset as a backdrop. The guests—myself, Luke, Dao, the maid and chef, as well as a good-looking man and woman that I did not know but who looked very familiar to me—all stood around like we were at a cocktail party and watched. I couldn’t look at Luke, and I’m quite certain that he had no intention of making eye contact with me. He stood about ten feet away, chatting quietly with the chef, who had handed him a bottle of beer. I myself was sipping on the fancy rum and coconut concoction that Dao had insisted I drink.

Apparently Samson was an ordained minister, on top of being a chauffeur, Jurassic Park enthusiast and closet ladies man. He thanked us all for being here, thanked Bucket and Ingrid for the honor of marrying them, told a beautiful and charming story about the first wedding he’d ever been to, about some Bahamanian wedding traditions, what led him to getting ordained, and then told us that Bucket and Ingrid had “written” their own vows.

Ingrid’s hair was wavy and she wore a dainty floral headband, white sundress, and no shoes. She was so pretty it was ridiculous. She recounted the first time she’d seen Buck in her tea shop, and the second and third time. She told us that every time she saw him she thought it might be the last time, and had enjoyed every minute with him in a way that she never had before with anyone else. She said that he had somehow quickly become her best friend and business mentor, despite being completely naughty most of the time. She said that she hadn’t even thought about being married to anyone, but as soon as he asked her to marry him she knew that she wanted to be his wife.

Bucket had been full of surprises ever since I’d met him, but at his wedding ceremony he really blew my mind. He wore a white linen shirt and pants, bare feet, of course. He seemed so calm and happy, like a surfer Buddha Ken doll, if that makes sense (I know it doesn’t). He looked at Ingrid in the way that anyone would want a loved one to look at her. He said: “People think us surfers are just super chill, that we ride the waves and listen to Pearl Jam and eat fish tacos all day…” He paused for effect. “We do.” We, the small crowd, laughed knowingly. “But being out there in the middle of the great beautiful ocean, being here on a beautiful tropical island, you come face to face with the reality that you could get swallowed up by a rogue wave or a hurricane at any minute. When you survive or you’re bypassed, you count your blessings. And when you come face to face with a beautiful woman, one that you can talk to, that you can listen to, that you can be yourself with, and bask in the glory of all that she is, you know that only love is real, and there is only now.”

I could feel Luke’s eyes on me. I glanced over at him. He was contemplating me, it seemed, but when he saw me looking at him he looked back at the bride and groom. Was he thinking about how false I had been with him? About how he couldn’t possibly talk to me anymore, knowing that I had told him fanciful stories about my relationship with an orgasm-inducing plug-in device?

“I love you now, Ingrid,” Bucket continued, somehow speaking only to her yet also sharing the moment with all of us. “All that I am, everything that is mine is yours, and I will count my blessings every minute of life on this planet now that you are my wife.”

The ceremony lasted about ten minutes, and when it was over I’m sure I was not the only one who was wondering why all weddings weren’t like this. After Bucket kissed the bride, the bouncy Stevie Wonder song “For Once in my Life” started blaring from some unseen speakers, and we all cheered and started dancing around them, and Bucket and Ingrid just wanted to eat and drink and be merry on the beach. It was all so cool, I had to wonder what the hell a dork like me was doing there. But they were so cool that they made me feel totally at home.

I tried not to remember word-for-word what I had actually said to Luke a short while earlier. I must have sounded totally nuts. I tried not to think about where my hands had gone and where his tongue had been and what we surely would have done if Samson hadn’t knocked on the door when he did. I will not regret anything. I do not regret anything. Why aren’t you looking at me Luke Mason? Wait—what did that look mean?

I turned away and walked over to the buffet and stared at some shrimp. “You must be Bucket’s business manager.” I looked over my shoulder to see the gorgeous woman smiling at me. “You should try the shrimp, it’s delish. So I’m told. I’m not eating seafood right now, sadly.” She patted her baby bump. “I’m Molly Kidd, I work with Bucket too.”

“Oh my God you’re Molly Kidd!” Molly Kidd and her husband Ryan went to Wharton a year ahead of me. Everyone thought they were a couple back then, but apparently they were just friends. Later, they formed a startup called Workstyle, which was the Warby Parker of office supplies. Bucket had become an investor in it and the company just totally blew up. It was a huge success. “I am such a fan of your products, my office is filled with them.” I hugged her, and she managed to hold onto her plate of food without spilling it, because she is a rock star and I was tipsy. “It’s so nice to meet you finally. I’m always asking Bucket about you. I’m a super fan.”

She laughed. “Well he has nothing but great things to say about you. It’s so cool that you’re here.”

“Is it cool or totally weird? I’m still not sure. It’s so great that you’re here!”

“Ryan and I happened to be workationing at a resort nearby, so of course we had to come when he told us they were getting married.”

“Wow. ‘Workationing.’”

“I know, as soon as I said it I started to throw up in my mouth a little. I am not in the habit of using it as a verb, please believe me. I still struggle with the idea of scheduling them, but once we’re at the resort or cabin or wherever, I’m like why don’t we do this every month?”

“So you really do work while you’re on vacation?”

“I prefer to think of it as taking a vacation while we work. I don’t know why that makes it easier for me.”

“No, I totally get that.” My eyes found Luke’s. He happened to be talking to Ryan. In that instant I could see myself spending one week a month in London and working for my clients remotely from there. I’d have to keep odd hours, but I’d already been doing that for a while with my transatlantic dealings, and…Not that it was likely to be an issue, since Luke hadn’t spoken to me since he got to the beach. I regret everything and will ask Samson to take me to the airport immediately.

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite business ladies.” Bucket put his arms around us.

“Hey, this has been so beautiful and awesome,” said Molly as she patted him on the back, “but I didn’t get to have a nap today, and my feet are killing me. I think Ryan and I are going to have to head back to the resort soon.”

“No worries, my friend. We’re heading out soon too.”

“Wait,” I said. “We are?”

“No, Ingrid and I are. We’re taking the boat over to Harbour Island. You and Luke will have the run of the place. The crew will be off-site but there’s a number you can call whenever you need anything.”

“Wait. What? You’re leaving? You mean just for the night?”

“No, we’re gonna head to Australia in a few days actually, but the villa’s paid for until Monday, so I insist you guys stay.”

“Wait…What? But what about our meetings?”

“I dunno what to tell you, Davis. Last week I decided to come here and get married, but I still wanted to hang out with you and Prince Fancy Pecs, so I invited you two here. I’m gonna be doing a lot more business in the UK, and I’ll be keeping you and Luke busy, so this was supposed to be my way of saying thanks for being so great to work with. Now I just married the love of my life and I wanna go honeymoon with her, so you guys can do up a document and email it to me at your convenience, how’s that?”

I managed to stop myself from saying “wait what” again, but I was not able to say anything else.

“Cool,” he said. “I want you guys at our next wedding in London, okay? See you there.” He hugged Molly and then me.

I was aware of Molly smiling as she looked at me, and then over at Luke, and back again. “Well this should be interesting,” she said.

I looked over and saw Bucket putting his hand on Luke’s shoulder while talking to him and I could see Luke’s mouth form the words “Wait. What?”