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Chapter 1
Nicole
Sandy removedher sunglasses and scanned the crowd to the left. “The guy in blue you were checking out earlier is watching you.”
“Pass.” The broad-shouldered man in the blue polo was more than cute, but by the time I looked, Mr. Studious had his head down in his iPad, same as he’d had for most of this afternoon on the beach. He didn’t seemthatinterested in me, or any of the women here, for that matter.
I forked another bite of my apple slaw salad and returned to my phone. My text this morning checking on my cousin, Lara, had gone unanswered, as had the two follow-ups this afternoon. Uncle Ernst hadn’t answered my question about how his meeting with the bank had gone either. What was up with my family?
“Last night here.” Sandy sucked on the straw in her mango margarita. “You don’t want to let it go to waste.”
Sandra Targus, bless her, was my best friend, but a little on the wild side. Her idea of a night in Barbados going to waste was not finding a man’s room to spend it in. So far she’d wasted only three nights of our week down here, but she didn’t want to make it four.
“Girl, I saw you checking him out again this afternoon,” she added.
Now that the glow of the sunset was fading, I removed my shades as well and looked for our waiter, Diego. I caught his attention with a wave.
Sandy pointed an accusatory finger. “Don’t try to deny it.”
Diego hurried over, saving me from having to answer her.
I lifted my glass. “Could I get some more water, please?”
“Certainly,” he replied.
“One more thing.” Sandy pointed past the family with the rambunctious kids toward Mr. Studious. “Can you tell me what the gentleman in blue over there is drinking?”
Diego peered over. “He’s drinking tonight’s special, a green monkey. Would you like one?”
I scooped a large bite of pasta into my mouth.
Sandy pointed to me. “No. My friend here would like to order him another.”
Diego smiled and backed away before I could complain.
I almost choked getting my food down. “What are you doing?”
The Evil Sandy grin appeared. “Just helping. Did you know he’s glanced at you seven times now?”
Of course she was counting.
“Bull, and you’re paying for the drink.” That wouldn’t slow her down; Sandy wasn’t as tight on money as I was.
I brought my water to my mouth. “I came down here to bake the worries out of my system.” Condensation from the icy glass dripped on my shorts.
“You came down here to forget about your dickhead ex.”
“Well, that too.” Maurice Dickman had seemed okay at first—a lesson about first impressions.
For a time, I’d written men off as a waste. They were all a bunch of lying losers who moved on when it suited them, which also meant without notice. I’d taken a chance with Mo, and he’d proven it once again—the lying sack of shit. In the end, Sandy had been right.Dickhead,dickless, ordickwadsuited him better than Dickman.
While I savored another mouthful of my penne marinara, I caught Mr. Studious actually looking our direction.
Sandy winked. “That makes eight.”
My phone vibrated with a text message.
Ernst: We’ll talk when you get back
