Page 14 of Forking the Billionaire

“Looks pretty well protected to me,” Morgan said.

Up ahead, the resort came into view. As Jules had said, it had a completely different feel than the path we’d walked. Sleek, modern design sat right in the center of lush greenery. Large glass walls reflected the myriad of colors from the surroundings.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Jules said.

“Remember, full spa services are available by appointment. Room service is available twenty-four seven. If you have anyfurther questions, please feel free to dial zero from the phone in your room at any time, or visit us at the front desk.”

The crowd began to disperse.

Layana kissed Gabriel on the nose and bounced her brows. “Let’s check out our room.”

“I want to see what the pools are like,” Morgan said.

“Why would we want to use a shared pool when there’s a private hot tub on the deck of our suite?” Oscar asked her.

Everyone was looking forward to making the most of their down time. I wanted to do the same.

Jules batted her eyelashes and shot me a let’s-fuck-around look. Sex, sure, maybe. Not now. I wanted to explore the island, spend my time in the ocean.

“How about we all do our own thing for now, meet up for dinner later,” Layana said.

“Yes,” Gabriel said, “let’s do that.”

She pulled him by the wrist. Morgan and Oscar headed in the other direction. Everyone else scattered, leaving me and Jules.

I flipped through the paperwork for a map.

“He said we’re on the second floor.” She started walking. “The first floor would have been better so we could walk straight out onto the beach, but the second means more privacy.”

“Great,” I said, not caring much one way or the other.

As we headed into the open and airy lobby, I found my mind wandering. I wondered what time Esme’s doctor’s appointment would be, and if she was feeling any better yet.

FIVE

ESME

Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t wearing pants. If I had been, I wouldn’t have been stuck sitting bare-thighed on scratchy paper feeling naked and exposed.

Sure, I got to keep my underpants on, but the gaping gown did little for coverage in this frigid, sterile room where I really wished I had some actual clothing warming my body.

All exam rooms had a special time-warping quality, where every minute sitting inside one waiting for the doctor to arrive felt like at least twenty minutes had passed.

As doctor’s offices went, Dr. Squailly’s wasn’t bad. The receptionist was friendly. There were happy floral paintings framed on the walls. The whole building had pretty, natural hardwood floors, unlike the offices I’d had to visit back in Epiphany where the floors were either easy-to-clean hospitalesque tile or the world's flattest carpet in that shade of bluish gray where years of dirt had blended right into the fibers.

This one smelled nice, too, like coconut. But that didn’t make me feel less naked, or make waiting like this any less torturous.

I stretched my arms, rolled my neck, and picked at the corner of the paper I was sitting on top of. I debated grabbing my phone out of my dress pocket for something to do, but as soon as I gotinvolved in that little snakes game, the doctor would decide to show up and catch me in the act.

Ooh, maybe that was exactly what I needed to do.

A knock came from the door, pausing me in a half-shimmy off the table.

A second later, Dr. Squailly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “Hi, Esme. How are you feeling today?”

“Like there’s no good reason to sit around naked just to get the results of an allergy test.”

“You know you’re welcome to wear your pants, right?”

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