Page 31 of Stuck in Paradise with You

Life ain’t too shabby…

Until it’s ruined by Luke’s arrival, swanning onto the terrace like he doesn’t have a care in the world, as ifheowns the place. All butt-hugging shorts and muscle-stretched t-shirt, sexy aviators and shower-wet hair.

Makes me… sick. Completely, totally and utterly… ogling. I mean, sick.

I watch him surreptitiously, my eyes on him from behind my shades, my body fully angled toward my laptop but the allure of him impossible to ignore.

Unfortunately for him, his lenses aren’t dark enough for me to miss his double-take in my direction and I don’t miss the falter in his step as, I’d guess, he ponders whether to sit with me.

I nudge my laptop further away from me, so that it is fully intruding on the space that’s set for breakfast opposite me on my table.

No. Thank. You.

I’ll eat alone. As I did for weeks, months, after you.

Of course, he does the next worse thing. He sits on the adjacent table and on the opposite side of his table from me, so we’re facing each other anyway.

He too sets the laptop I didn’t realize he was carrying on the table and opens it to work.

I focus intently on my screen, chastising my eyes every time they betray me and flick his way.

‘Morning, Luke. Would you like coffee?’ Dionne, the woman asking the question, is something of a waitress, chambermaid and handywoman combined, as far as I can gather, and lives on Charithonia with her husband Glen, who is also a handyman, as well as a gardener. I know this because we’ve been chatting.

See, I am sociable when I actually have an interest in people. In fact, I’m always sociable, often too polite to avoid conversation even if I’m feeling grouchy. Just not when it comes to my arch enemies.

I’m spared eavesdropping into Luke’s breakfast order by my cellphone screen coming to life. Rachel, the big boss, is calling me.

‘Rachel, hi,’ I say, slipping out from behind my table and moving farther along the terrace, farther away from Luke. When I’ve exhausted the space I can put between us, I turn to rest back against the balcony rail and ask Rachel, ‘How are you?’

As I do, I see Alisha, looking as glamorous as ever, figuratively gliding on the air toward Luke and pulling out the chair opposite his.

I am such an idiot.

He wasn’t sitting on the next table over to put distance between him and me. He was sitting at the next table so that he could enjoy breakfast with his girlfriend.

And more than I hate my own stupidity, I hate the irrational disappointment I feel.

‘Carrie? Are you still there?’

‘Yes!’ I say, too zealously, like I’ve been caught red-handed doing something… bad. ‘It’s going well, Rachel. I had a veryproductive meeting with the CFO yesterday and I’m pulling together a tax report for him and Mr Hettich.’

‘Ah, you had a good meeting with Luke Chalmers?’ There’s something peculiar about her tone, almost like a teenage girl teasing another about a crush.

My mind is really playing tricks on me now. Rachel knows nothing about my past with Luke. We’re friendly colleagues, rather than friends.

I need to get out of this situation asap, before I really lose my mind.

‘We had some very sensible discussions about the new rules in the Cayman Islands and I suggested a company restructure. I’ll obviously let Eric see the report before it goes to the client. Since, ah, presumably, he’ll step back in as soon as he’s well and able?’

Please, say yes.

‘Great. And are you okay, Carrie?’

‘Me?’ Bizarre. ‘Yes, sure.’

‘You know the storm that’s heading your way is all over the news here,’ she says.

Ah, she means the storm.Of course she does.

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