Pulling my suitcase behind me two weeks later, I’m outside, just in time for my Uber to arrive; however, I’m unable to avoid contact with Justine. She approaches me with her sweet look that not many get from her, but for me, it’s present. It’s a smile that makes me warm all over. As we close the gap between us, I ache for her tender touch. Hell, what the fuck is wrong with me? I feel more for this woman than I did the many I’ve slept with and I’d never even kissed her. 

“Jake,” she calls out. “I’ve been trying to catch up with you.” She doesn’t know I’m avoiding her like the common cold. Never knowing my true feelings, thank fuck, telling her I’ve yet another business trip to China satisfies me. Though this time, I think I will just tell her the truth. It’s such a rare commodity to have the truth on my side this once. 

I say, “Oh, I’m busy. I know you have been, too.” Shit, she looks happy and I can’t be upset for that, not after the hell she’s been put through this year. 

Reaching into her purse as her lips form into the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen on a woman’s face, she clears her throat and hands me what I’m sure is the fucking wedding invitation. “I wanted a New Year’s Eve wedding but it just didn’t work out with everyone’s holiday plans. It’s January 15^th. I wanted to hand deliver this to you myself and say thanks for all the times you were there for me.”

Ah, fuck, what do I say? It’s as though she knows and can read my mind and how difficult this is. Taking the invitation, our fingers touch for a second. I know she doesn’t sense it, she’s too in love with the animal doctor but holy hell, I feel it as though lightning strikes me directly.

“Thanks, Justine,” is all I can say when she notices the suitcase in my hand and the anxious Uber driver tapping his nails in waiting.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asks, curious.

“Um, yeah. My sister, Hannah, won an all-inclusive trip to the Cayman Islands. She can’t take it since she’d made plans to go to Maine to ski.”

Narrowing in on me, she directly says, “Um, as much as you talk about your sister, I’m surprised you’re not spending it with her.” Her stare is intense, almost requiring an answer from me as to why I’m bailing on Hannah this Christmas. Using Justine as the reason will not work, though it’s the truth.

I only chuckle because again, I can tell her some of the truth here, unlike all the times I’ve lied without flinching. “Yeah, she’s going with her best friend whom I fucking hate and I’m not one for skiing,” I state plainly. Again, this part is the truth. I could get used to living a life like this, revealing my true intentions.

“Um, history with this said best friend?” She’s now quizzing me. Her emerald green eyes are beckoning the answer to this question.

Holy hell, do we have history, just not in the way Justine is imagining. If I had ever slipped my dick into Sylvie, I’d be afraid it would fall off due to her pure evilness. I only laugh, letting her guess for herself and that is about as much honesty as I can muster for one day, apparently.

* * *

Air travel has never been longer and I’ve been to a lot of remote areas in my life, but never for a vacation. In all my travels, I can’t remember taking five different planes to get to one location. From Spokane, I flew to Seattle, missing my fucking connection to Atlanta. Once they get me to Atlanta, I miss my fucking connection to the Cayman Islands. One little detail my darling sister hesitated to mention is my resort is not on the Grand Caymans, but on the small remote island of Little Cayman. In order to get my fucking ass to a bed and sleep away the misery of my flights, I must take yet another plane to the small island.

As I read up on this mystery island I’ll be inhabiting for the next ten days, I’m shocked to know that iguanas outnumber the residents on this island and it is some sort of law to yield to these dragon-like creatures.

One more little fact Hannah didn’t quite divulge is this is not an all-inclusive resort but a bed and breakfast. I hate Bed and Breakfasts. It means; I must congregate with the other guests and the owners of this facility. Maine is looking so much better than Little Cayman at this point, even with fucking Sylvie.

* * *

In the Grand Cayman’s airport, while I’m attempting to find the part of the airport that would take my ass to the little fucking island with all the iguanas, I pass a man that, in my professional opinion, looks like he’s pure bad news. On his face is a look of absolute resolve, one I know so well. His face has an unmoving stance and when he approaches those in his way, they move for him. Fuck, did I know this type. These are the kind of underhanded men Sylvie would hire when my morals got in the way and the job was too messy for me. Moving out of the way slightly, as though I am grabbing something out of my carry on, I keep my eyes fixed on him. He’s going the same direction as I am, and I wonder if I’ll be ditching this vacation, trying to squirm out of Sylvie’s evil clutches. Has she really sent someone to watch me?

As he passes me, I get a look at the man when something, probably my gut since I’ve been doing this job for way too long, tells me as ugly as this mother fucker is, he’s not one of Sylvie’s morally loose ape-men. Still very cautious, my eyes watch him closely as I stand to take him in.

When he approaches a group of travelers I’ll have the pleasure of sharing a cramped prop plane with, I see him pull a young lady out of the crowd. Now, I know for a fact this is not Sylvie’s doing. As horrible as the bitch is, physical abuse of women is not her play. No, she loves to mess with them more psychologically. That is where the bitch really shines.

Dealing with douches is my area of expertise. I readily approach the woman for a second and upon seeing her red hair, I think of my own sister and what I would do if this dick was manhandling her. Without a word, I grab the man who towers over my six-foot-four-inch frame; I never fear the size of a man. In this case, the ape looks more stupid than anything. However, before I fight him on international turf, I think I’ll try to use my skills of negotiation for now.

“Excuse me, that is no way to touch this young lady.” She looks at me and I see a look I’m familiar with. It is the I got this, fucker look. Though just for one moment, I see a hint of nervousness and softness and know where I’ve seen that look before—Justine. If she’s anything like my neighbor, I know she can certainly handle this fucker.

“This is none of your business, fuckhead,” the ape says and in that second, I know his brain is not his asset.

“I think that is for the lady to decide,” I say and I get a little hint of a smile from her. Before I need to use some of my more physical skills with this brute, a security guard comes at us.

“What’s the issue?” he says, looking at the red-haired woman near me, who I’ve just started to gaze at. She’s stunning, now that I can truly take her in.

“Oh, it was nothing,” the beautiful ginger says but before the security guard lets up, a loud-mouthed woman to the right of us starts.

“That was not just nothing. He grabbed her and I mean yanked her arm so hard, I thought her poor little fragile arm would tear from her socket.”

Oh, hell. All this pretty lady needs is to get on her plane and a million miles from this ass. As soon as I know it, three more security guards surround the man and take my statement. The woman is shaken and in tears at the gate. “But I’m going to miss my flight.”

“I know and I’m sorry. But we take this seriously. There will be another plane,” I hear as I’m boarding for the little island and away from the woman that made me forget about my broken heart for a few minutes.