Page 41 of Sand in My Boots

“There’s one in my locker by the main pool. I’ll grab it on the way out.”

In my room, I change into the one-piece suit I packed. Mostly so he doesn’t get any ideas. Despite my attempts to arouse him for a quickie, he declines, stating we need to be on the way if we don’t want to miss the boat.

But would that be so bad?

Yes, if only because he went through all the trouble to plan it.

He pops into the locker room in the front building and emerges with a string backpack with his suit and towels. Out the front doors, he leads us over to a parking lot off to the right. It’s filled with expensive, luxury cars. The one he leads me to is no different. A black Audi A6. Sleek. Sophisticated. So not Cameron.

“This one’s yours?”

“Did you even try to hide the disdain in your voice?”

Damn, he’s too good.

“This isn’t what I pictured. To be fair, I guess I never pictured you in any specific type of car. But if I had, this wouldn’t be it.” It appears brand-new, the shiny enamel glistening in the sun. He unlocks the car, and opening up the door confirms the new car smell. “How long have you had it?”

“About two years. I don’t drive it often. It’s too fancy for my style, and I don’t like the way it handles.”

“So why do you keep it?” I wonder with a chuckle.

“Appearances.”

Interesting. It goes against everything Cameron Fairbanks is.

“What would you drive instead if given the choice?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

“I won’t make such a promise. If it’s an outlandish choice, I’m going to laugh.”

He considers my point. “Fair enough.” He pushes the button to start it, hot air blowing in my face. “Sorry about that.” He turns some knobs on the aerodynamic dash, cutting the air off. “Better?”

“Much, thanks.” I strap my seatbelt, then turn to face him, waiting for his answer. “So?”

He pretends not to know what I’m insinuating, but I see through his act. He inhales, then pushes out a big exhale. “A golf cart.”

I don’t laugh. Mostly because it’s not funny. In fact, I would think it’s more appropriate for the island than this piece of machinery.

“That seems practical. You can probably make use of it all year-round. So why not get one?”

“Appearances.”

“Who do you have to impress? Do the guests here pay all that much attention to what kind of car you drive? How many of them see your car?”

“Very few. I don’t know. It’s a status thing, maybe. A lot of prestige comes with ‘Cameron Fairbanks, owner of Whispering Tide Resort.’ Guess I feel like I need to look the part. Especially to the generous soul who put me here.”

When I put the money up for him, I swore Preston to secrecy. Cameron could never find out. Before coming to the resort, I didn’t feel guilty about him not knowing it was me, but now that I’m here and seeing him in action, I feel a little remorseful about keeping the secret. I don’t question my decision to do it, but I wonder if I should tell him. I wonder how he’d react.

Deciding now isn’t the time to come clean, I say, “There’s a lot of truth to that. But I bet that person would want you to be happy.”

“And I am. Grateful for this opportunity I’ve been given. I don’t take it for granted. At least I don’t think so.”

Needing to comfort him with a touch, my hand juts out and lands on his thigh. “From what I’ve seen, you definitely don’t. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” His tone isn’t quite jubilant, but it will do.

“Okay, off to this cruise. I’m ready for it.”