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Thankfully there’s enough to distract me once we reach the Alencars’ island.
Liz and I press our noses to the glass as the plane dips lower. Much to Liz’s disappointment, the island doesn’t look like a super villain’s secret hideout; it looks like a billionaire’s secret hideout, complete with sandy beaches, a titanic pool, tennis courts, a golf course, and a chic modern house that would put the Beverly Hills to shame.
We’re definitely the last to arrive. The airstrip is populated by two other small planes and a helicopter. From the air we can make out little figures on the beach, a few others playing tennis.
Soon we’ll be amongst them, trying to play nice.
“Just remember,” Liz says after we land and are taxiing toward the hanger. “Smile, keep it light. All we need to do is make a pleasant appearance for a couple days.” She taps my nose with a finger. “No making waves.”
“I seem to remember you being the instigator of trouble,” I quip back. “I make no promises to break up any scenes you cause this week.”
“Then I promise not to save you from any financial jargon,” she whips back.
I consider for a second then say, “Okay, bluff called. If I start blinking wildly at you will you please come save me?”
“Only if you rescue me from any confrontations I may or may not have started,” she says back grinning.
“Deal.”
I kiss her lightly, but as I start to pull away Liz threads her fingers through my hair and deepens the embrace. She’s practically vibrating from excitement, though because of the deal or because of me I can’t quite say.
She’s too boring for you. You’re too irresponsible for her.
Mother’s words nudge at me, but I usher them back into their box, close the lid tight. What does she know anyway?
I pull away from Liz’s kiss just as the pilot opens the dividing curtain.
“Welcome to the island,” he says. “Your luggage is already being sent ahead, and there’s a car waiting to take you up to the house.”
Hand-in-hand we disembark into balmy tropical heat, and twenty minutes later, we’re sitting in the back of a doorless Jeep, pulling past the tennis courts and up the wide, palm tree-lined drive that leads to the main house.
The house itself is the definition of modern: only three stories tall but stretching endlessly in both directions in glittering, sterile white.
It’s built against a cliff face, and as the attendant leads us through sparsely decorated, high-ceilinged rooms we take in breathtaking views of the ocean through floor-to-ceiling windows.
“The Alencars are currently with their guests enjoying the property,” the attendant says. He’s dressed in a white uniform with black accents and carries himself gracefully. “I’ll take you to your rooms so that you can settle in before dinner. It will be served in an hour.”
We follow him to an elevator that carries us up to the third floor, and then down another hall to a set of sliding white doors. He opens them to reveal a room with the same massive windows as downstairs, a king-sized bed, and a private balcony with a small private infinity pool. He nods politely and leaves us to it.
“Holy. Shit.” Liz’s eyes are as wide as she can possibly make them. “And I thought our hotel room was nice.”
I’m a little less in awe of this latest display of exorbitant wealth; Mother isn’t as rich as the Alencars but at a certain point luxury is luxury.
Still, it’s fun to watch Liz get excited over little things, like the custom-carved hand soap in the shape of peacocks and even just how smoothly the sliding doors open and close.
“It’s like butter,” she marvels, pushing it back and forth.
God, she’s beautiful. I keep underestimating how much deeper my attraction toward Liz can grow. Every time I think it’s hit its limit, she does something else to make my heart swell a size larger.
Now, dressed in jean cutoffs and a tank she bought in New Orleans, long, slender legs tapping in excitement as she dances around the room, I just want to take her into my arms and never let go.
“Come on,” she says when she notices that I’m still standing by the door. “Even you have to admit that this place is cool.”
“Okay,” I say. “I admit it.” I peer out of the sliding doors at the infinity pool. “Do we have a moment to take a dip?”
She joins me at the window, wrapping an arm around my waist and leaning against my shoulder. “I wish,” she says. “I need to shower and get ready for dinner.”
