Page 22 of OneTime Lovers
“Come on then, let’s go,” she says, grabbing my arm and virtually dragging me from the chair.
“Wow, someone’s a little bit eager,” I tease as I happily link arms with her and Lily to walk toward the building which houses the island day spa.
An hour later and the nails on our fingers and toes are shaped, buffed, and coated in a pearly white. An amazing achievement as it took us all ages to settle on the exact tone of white. Who’d have thought it could be so hard?
As we leave the salon, I turn to Lily saying, “How many women does it take to choose a wedding nail polish?”
She smiles back at me. “Just one … the bride.” I nod, wishing we had taken that approach instead of offering opinions when asked.
Giggling together, I add, “Correct, and five to nod their heads agreeably.”
Cassie overhearing laughs along to my lame joke. We follow the wedding planner back outside, across a trimmed lawn dotted with stray coconuts recently fallen from the surrounding tall palms. She leads us through an archway cut into a thick hedge of fuchsia hibiscus bushes and on the other side is a traditional beach hut, with more thick colorful shrubs on each side.
It’s a secret tropical garden that opens out to a private view of the blue-green ocean beyond. Six massage beds are lined up on the wooden platform under the thatched roof, an attendant in white standing beside each bed, friendly smiles lighting up their faces.
We each lie face down on a bed and the staff move efficiently around us heating the scented massage oils, the aroma mixing intoxicatingly with the surrounding native flowers.
Cassie turns her head toward me, whispering secretively, “What’s going on with you and Scott?”
I jump in surprise at her random question. It’s a sneaky move waiting to ask me about Scott, when I’m relaxed by the massage, at my weakest. I try to recover my composure, but it’s probably too late.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply in what I hope is an innocent-sounding voice. I don’t really want to get into it today, not with Cass on her wedding day. Maybe tomorrow after the deed is done.
She smiles smugly at me. “Come on, Jas, I know you too well. Something was going on between you and Scotty, when Luke and I found you at the beach hut yesterday. You both hadguiltywritten all over your faces.” Obviously her curiosity is not easily deflected.
“Scott helped calm me down, that’s all. I was bound to look a little uneasy,” I explain, but even to my own ears, I don’t sound convincing.
“Okay––I can wait till you’re ready to spill on the details, like how exactly he calmed you down.”
“I mean seriously, the man is arrogant, loud, and cocky ninety percent of the time.”
“So, you keep saying, Jas, but I wonder about the remaining ten percent.”
Her words make me realize I’m still trying to figure out the ten percent myself. Not that it should matter as I’m only planning a vacation fling, nothing more. And my plans include less talk and more action.
Just when I feel like she’s finished asking me about Scott, it becomes obvious she was only taking a breath. “Hey, I say go for it, girl. Scotty is hot, not as hot as Luke, of course, but way hotter than the average guy in the street and on top of that he’s a good guy.”
I can’t help but smile back at her. “Yeah, I get he’s a good guy, he was amazing when I freaked out in the storm. And I certainly have noticed how hot he is but … I’m still not sure it would be a good idea. It’s not a normal situation where I’d never see him again. We’re bound to bump into each other.”
She ponders my words for a moment before saying, “I get it might be awkward in the future but is that really the reason? Are you sure your reluctance isn’t because of your ex, Brad?”
“Stop. Don’t say that lying, cheating man-child’s name,” I say half-joking and half-serious.
“Oops, sorry I forgot. Anyway, I think you shouldn’t let old history stop you from moving forward. He was uniquely a douchebag, not all guys have the same whacked moral compass. C’mon, girl, you’re the one who always goes after what she wants. Don’t go overthinking it.”
Cassie is right, which is why I intend to enjoy what’s on offer. Especially when what’s being offered looks pretty damn good.
“Thanks, Cass, but hey enough about me. Can we now concentrate on you and your special day?”
“Yes totally, today is all about me. I can’t believe I’m finally going to become Mrs. Luke Steele.”
In her excitement, she lets out a squeal that pierces my eardrums and has the other girls raising their sleepy heads from their massage tables.
Laughing at her, I joke, “I do hope that squealing stops when you become Mrs. Luke Steele.”
Later that afternoon when we’ve all been primped and preened, it’s finally time to slip on our beautiful sea-green bridesmaid dresses. The silky fabric is the same pale green for all of us and reminds me of the shallow reef waters we swam in yesterday. But then each dress has been uniquely designed for the girl wearing it, so we co-ordinate rather than all match exactly.
My dress has a high halter neckline at the front, plunging provocatively low at the back, and as I drop the dress over my head, the silk floats softly over my body, fitting to my curves like a second skin. I only hope it doesn’t get sticky in the humidity when we leave the cool protection of the air-conditioned bungalow.
