Page 33 of The Plus Ones
We will revisit this again later tonight, Foxy Roxy, and it definitely won’t be the rum in your system that changes your mind.
When I’m out on the veranda, staring at the amazing sea view, breathing in the amazing warm air, and wondering which one of us is going to take a bath in the outdoor tub first, I hear creaky doors swing open. I turn to see Roxy peering out at me from the bathroom. Or rather—from the walk-in shower.
“The shower opens up onto the veranda!” she says, all excited and almost as if we hadn’t been arguing for the past two minutes. “It’s like an outdoor shower!”
I’m glad she’s excited, because this is the best news I’ve ever heard.
“This is how you get from the bathroom straight to the outdoor tub!”
“That is so clever and convenient.”
“I’m gonna shower before dinner!” she says. “Is that okay?”
“It is beyond okay. Take a shower, take a bath. Whatever you want. I’m going to stand right here. Do your thing.”
She narrows her eyes at me and pulls the flimsy wooden doors shut. “Both of the bathroom doors have latches on the inside, FYI.”
“I’m going to stand here and enjoy the stunning view of the water and the palm trees and the islands, FYI.”
“Good, because that’s all you’re gonna see!”
Not when I close my eyes, Roxy. You don’t even want to know what I see when I close my eyes.
7
Roxy
I don’t know why I was expecting dinner to be a fun and casual chatty gathering of the six of us at a big table, but that’s what I was expecting.
I should have known all of the tables in the resort’s restaurant would be for two.
Matt and Bernadette have already been seated, and the hostess is showing Chase and Aimee to their table.
“Did you want to join us?” Aimee asks me sweetly. “Would it be possible for us to push two tables together?” she asks the hostess.
“No no, it’s fine,” I say, trying not to mope. “We’ll all have drinks at the bar after dinner, yeah?”
“Definitely! Can’t wait!”
“Buon appetito,” Chase says to us as we are ushered to the other side of the open-air room.
Keaton has been strangely silent ever since I emerged from the bathroom in this dress. It’s not even a particularly special or revealing dress. I just thought it looked like the kind of thing a gal should wear while on vacation in Antigua. One of the perks of being an executive at an online clothing company is that you get tons of free clothes and accessories, and nobody else at the office was grabbing this breezy chiffon floral-print wrap dress. I didn’t realize it had such a high slit until I put it on here. When he saw me, his eyelids fluttered and his jaw tightened, and he just muttered, “That’s one helluva dress,” and I swear that’s the last thing he said. That was fifteen minutes ago.
Then he changed into the kind of cuffed linen trousers that only a guy from Europe or an American dude who invests in hedge funds can get away with. He looks good, sure, and he’s got style—yeah. Stylish men can blow me, but I mean, I respect that he knows how to dress.
The hostess stops in front of a table next to the railing, so I can look out at the sunset instead of Keaton’s face for an hour at least. Keaton pulls the chair out for me, waits for me to lower my ass to it, and then gently pushes it in toward the table. This is a ridiculous thing that has never happened to me before, so I thank him without thinking about it, but I mean… Of all the traditional gentlemanly gestures, I’d say this is the most useless and we can do without it. It’s not like I’m wearing a corset and a ball gown. I am quite capable of seating myself.
“Thank you,” I say to him for a second time. “Thank you,” I say to the hostess when she hands me the menu. Apparently when I’m stupefied, I just get really polite and improve my posture.
I accidentally glance over at his crotch when he’s sitting down across from me. He’s definitely wearing boxers, appears to be hanging to the right this evening, and is apparently quite well-endowed. Good for him. He catches me looking and grins. I hold my menu up in front of my face.
Get over yourself, Keaton Bridges. My eyeballs slipped.
“Anya will be your waitress tonight, but can I bring you something fun to drink while you look at our menu?”
Before I can order a beer, Keaton says, “My beautiful girlfriend and I would both love something big, fun, and rum-based. Preferably served in a coconut. With an umbrella.”
The hostess smiles. “We have many rum-based drinks, sir, but none of them are served in a coconut, I’m afraid.”
