Page 13 of Forking the Billionaire

Gabriel said, “I’ll accompany you back to your place, make sure you?—”

“Nope.” She shook her hands. “I’m really fine. You go get settled in. I have a doctor’s appointment today. I’m taking care of it. Really. I’ll catch up at dinner, okay?”

Gabriel’s jaw ticked. “Take care of yourself.”

“Call if you need anything,” Layana said with a warm smile.

“I will,” Esme said with a smile back.

Knowing her, she wouldn’t call even if she really did need the help. It wasn’t a pride thing, either. She wouldn’t want Gabriel to worry about her. She’d always hid everything she could from him.

Gabriel deserved this one perfect week. I hoped Esme wouldn’t ruin that for him.

Esme grabbed a skateboard from the edge of the grass and rode off, because of course she chose the least sensible way of getting around. She might not look like it anymore, but her behavior proved she was still the rebellious troublemaker she’d always been.

“If everyone will follow me this way,” Stan said.

As the clump of people crossed the grass, parties reformed. I followed Gabriel and Layana, with Jules by my side.

A heady embrace of humid, Caribbean air fell over us. Palms rustled in the soft breeze, their long shadows dancing across the grass.

“Can you believe this place?” Layana opened her arms wide and spun in a circle.

“It’s paradise,” Morgan told her. “You picked the perfect spot. I might have to steal your idea for my own special day.”

Oscar snapped his attention to her at that. The pair of them were so deep into their own wedding planning that a venue change to a different country was likely to give him a heart attack.

“Maybe our honeymoon,” she grinned at him.

He grinned back, despite his surly nature.

“You should totally honeymoon here,” Layana told Morgan. “But it was Esme who picked the island, since she moved here.”

“She seems like a vibrant person,” Morgan said. “I bet she appreciates that you two were thinking so much of her when you put this together.”

Gabriel said, “I hope so.”

I wasn’t so sure. She’d seemed anxious to me.

The other groups of vacationers chatted amongst themselves as the grassy earth led to a wide stone walkway.

Stan’s gentle yet commanding voice cut through everyone’s chatter. “Down the path to your right is the market. It’s older than the resort itself and began as a gathering spot for locals to trade goods and share stories. Be sure to make time to visit during your stay.”

There wasn’t much to see from here but giant palm trees and manicured flower beds filled with colorful blooms. But, the gentle sound of ebbing and flowing waves carried across the air, along with a fresh, salty quality that filled my every breath.

I wondered what kind of rentals the resort had, and if the waves would be conducive to surfing. Why not throw a little adventure into this relaxing island getaway?

“If you’ll look down—careful not to trip now—this walkway, my friends, is not just any path, it's a story,” Stan said.

Blue swirls decorated the tan stone, like waves pointing the way to our destination.

Stan said, “This is the tale of our island, lovingly painted by a local artisan.”

The waves led to sand dunes and a vibrant sky, to towering trees and colorful birds.

“Seems a waste to put art where it’s going to get trampled,” Jules said. “Plus, it doesn’t really fit with the luxury vibe of a five-star resort.”

I thought the art made for an inviting welcome.

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