Page 130 of Bona Fide

? Hot Girl Bummer — Blackbear ?

Mexico.The first somewhat vacation that I’ve had in—actually my whole life. I’ve never been on a cruise, went to the mountains or some tourist attraction that people talk about seeing once in their lives. I’ve never been camping or went on a small road trip. So when I accepted this wedding offer from one of the easiest clients I’ve ever had in my life, I snatched it.

My bride, Layla, sent me a check immediately for over ten grand to start planning with hopes that I’d be able to bring some of my artistic ideas with me. She wanted simple and white, the wedding to be in Mexico with limited friends and family, and a small brunch after the ceremony for the guests.

There are only three bridesmaids and groomsmen, her friend is going to officiate the wedding, and everything else she gave me liberties to go wild with.

Layla and I met once in New York while she was in town on business. She lives in New Jersey, runs an online fashion line, and is pretty, petite, and sweet. I made up a board of ideas for her to approve by email when something inspired me out of the blue—she loved it all. I honestly felt like I was ripping her off with how easy this was.

Three days and two nights in Mexico—it couldn’t have come at a better time.

So, I brought Mila to help since she’s been busting her ass as much as I have and our goals are: tanning, eating, drinking, organizing, and flirting with cute guys on the beach. On the off chance that we may have small breaks here and there.

The resort that Layla picked is beyond the word stunning. The water is a crystal clear aqua color. Quaint cabanas with white cushions and pillows scattered around a large pool. Different colored lounge chairs line up in a row where parents could watch their children play in the sand on the beach. A few small tiki bars are available for drinks and small snacks.

The place is heaven on Earth.

Mila and I don’t get a chance to observe too much when we arrive because we’re escorted to our rooms by a small woman with dark hair and a pink flower nestled in it. She drops off Mila first, placing a purple flower in her mane as a welcome, then promptly takes me down the hall to mine. I’m given a blue flower and a giant smile before given my space.

Holy fuck.

I need to go on vacation more often. My ocean view is what takes my breath away first. On the patio is a lounge chair and small table. The ceilings are a light wood paneling with a palm tree leaf fan and dark wooden beams. The king-size bed has a million white pillows matching the white bedspread with two aqua blue lines going across them. The decor is rope tapestry braided and knotted then hung on the wall.

It’s perfect.

Screw the TV in the room. I could just stare at the view forever.

Bucket list.

We came right to the resort from the airport so I text Layla that we’re here and jump in the shower. Quickly blow drying my hair and letting my natural waves be, I throw on a green romper that comes a little high on the thigh, but I’m in Mexico sooo….

Accessorizing myself with a gold necklace and cuff, Layla has already texted me back to let me know she’s downstairs by the wet bar outside. Not wanting to keep her waiting anymore for me, I tell Mila that I’ll be downstairs to meet our client and to come down whenever she’s ready.

When I get back to the lobby, one of the front desk girls tells me where the bar is located, and I make my way for it. The sun is warm on my skin as I stride outside, a few people already taking advantage of its rays as they sunbathe. No one is in the pool, which displays its pristine maintenance as I make my way down a small set of stairs and into the sand.

The small grains seep through my sandals, welcoming me to paradise. A small window of time where I don’t have to worry about New York traffic or what vendor I have to check in on. My body immediately relaxed the moment Mila and I stepped foot in this resort. I hadn’t noticed how my body was always wound up and tense until it felt like a million pounds was lifted off my shoulders.

A short blonde, shorter than me, stands at the bar top attired in a white maxi dress that goes all the way to the ground. Her back is to me, speaking to the bartender as he laughs along with her at something. I patiently wait for him to hand her the drink she ordered and go on to another customer before I speak.

“Layla?” Promptly, she turns on her heels and smiles.

“Reagan,” she beams, extending her arms for me to give her a hug. I kindly return it as she hands me her drink. “Here, take mine, I’ll order another.”

“Thank you.” She waves the middle-aged bartender over again, and he nods that he saw her.

“How was the flight?” she asks me, leaning against the bamboo countertop.

“It was great, especially walking off the plane and into weather like this.” I lift my red slushed margarita in the air, still amazed that I’m actually here.

She groans. “I knowww. That’s why I wanted to do it down here. Plus it’s just away from everyone, you know?”

“I definitely know.”

“I just didn’t want to invite a bunch of people I don’t talk to. I wanted it to be intimate and special. I’m not big into flashy and thank God I found you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

The bartender comes back with an identical drink, and she immediately takes a sip from her black straw.

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