Page 27 of No Time Off

He laughed. “Ah,cara, it’s a part of me I want to share with you.”

“Well, it’s working. I had the best time today.”

“Good to know.”

We jetted back to the resort and turned in the Jet Ski, deciding we might yet do it again another day.

We had just enough time to shower, change, and head downstairs before the prime minister’s car arrived to meet us. Slash had changed into a crisp white shirt and his black slacks, and I wore my favorite sky-blue dress and white sandals. My face was pink from the sun despite having glopped on loads of suntan lotion, and my muscles felt warm and relaxed from a day spent in the fresh air, water, and sunshine.

I pulled my damp hair back into a sleek ponytail at the nape of my neck and added a pair of blue stud earrings instead of my favorite diamond set that Slash had given me over a year ago. I could embrace fashion if I had to.

“It’s a good thing Basia picked out my honeymoon wardrobe,” I said, checking in the mirror and smoothing down the material of my dress. “She packed three dresses I wouldn’t have thought I needed.”

“Basia is a gem. Though I suspect she could not have anticipated you’d be having a private meeting with the head of a foreign government. If so, she would have packed more formal wear, or perhaps even a bulletproof vest?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ha-ha. Point made. Regardless, I sure lucked out in the friend department.” I glanced down at my engagement ring and wedding band. The blue stone in my ring matched the dress exactly, and somehow that felt right. “And the husband one, too. Still, after wearing this dress, any other fancy events will require recycling one of the three dresses.”

“I’m fine with you in no clothes,” he said, amused, lifting a dark eyebrow.

“Likewise,” I said without hesitation, and we both laughed.

SIXTEEN

Lexi

The sun had already begun to set, casting a golden glow over the island, when our driver, a quiet man in a gray suit, arrived in a dark sedan. He ushered us into the car, and we headed out for the prime minister’s house. Her home was on the same side of the island as our resort, so it was less than a ten-minute drive. We tried to engage the driver in conversation, but all we got out of him was one-word answers.

Ara Tapu on this part of the island was regularly lined with green hedges, limiting the view of the houses beyond. As the car slowed to turn off onto a side road, my nerves began to get to me. I’m an introvert by nature, so the thought of meeting with people I didn’t know, not to mention a prime minister, was more than a bit daunting. I had hoped that over time, meeting important people would get easier, given my close association with the president of the United States and the pope. But it never did.

Slash, understanding my anxiety, gently squeezed my hand, reassuring me in a way only he could. Trying to relax, I turned my attention to the view. We passed through several blocks of single-story, concrete houses. At the end of the road, a crushed-shell driveway led off to the left, lined with overhanging trees that hid both the path ahead and the house. The tires crunched on the driveway as we slowly approached the house, emerging back into the waning sunlight onto a circular drive that fronted a two-story, plantation-style house.

The white house with its brown roof had a veranda that ran the entire front. The house was adorned with large windows and a double front door. The bushes around the house were carefully trimmed and reflected a gardener’s care and an owner’s attention to detail. Behind the house and on the left side were fields of what looked like pineapple. On the other side, the land rose sharply to the green slopes of Te Manga.

The driver pulled up in front of the house and stepped out of the car to open our door. He offered a hand, and I climbed out. Slash followed.

“Welcome,” a booming voice said from the house’s entrance. A man with rich brown skin and a closely cropped haircut walked over to meet us. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit and an ocean blue tie.

“I’m Rangi Taufua, personal assistant to Prime Minister Askari,” he said, stretching out a hand to us. “It is a pleasure to have you at the house. You honor us tonight by being here. The entire nation is grateful for your actions yesterday, which saved the life of our prime minister.”

Slash tried to keep it light. “I’m just happy to have been in the right place at the right time.”

“It’s no coincidence,” Rangi said in a somber tone, shaking Slash’s hand and then mine. “It was destiny, I’m sure of it. Now, please, follow me. The prime minister and her family await you.”

Slash and I exchanged a glance as we entered the house. I stopped at the threshold, admiring the simple beauty of the interior.

While the house wasn’t palatial, it reflected a blend of elegance and cultural richness. Rangi gave us a quick tour as we walked along.

“This house was originally built by a wealthy British businessman and farmer who relocated from New Zealand in the early 1900s. This area had some of the best arable land on the island, and he used it to grow and ship fruits that weren’t viable in the colder New Zealand climate. He was successful enough to be appointed the king’s representative for the Cook Islands, which were still a part of New Zealand.

“The house turned over several times since then, before Ms. Askari and her family acquired it. They have worked to keep up its heritage on the island.”

Polynesian art and sculptures were tastefully displayed, each piece telling a story of the islands’ rich heritage. When we reached the dining room, we found the prime minister standing, waiting with her family. A tall man with dark hair and graying sideburns stood beside her, as well as a teenage girl and a young boy. The kids watched us with curious eyes.

“Lexi, Slash, it’s so nice to see you again. Thank you for coming.” The prime minister stepped forward and greeted us warmly, her smile genuine.

“It’s our pleasure, Prime Minister,” Slash said. “We hope you didn’t go to too much trouble on our behalf.”

“Please call me Petra. And this is hardly repayment for saving my life, but I’d like you to meet my husband, Henry, and my children, Leilani, or Lani for short, and Noa, my son.”

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