Page 39 of The Suite Life
‘We like to go to Aspen, every winter,’ he tells me. ‘Aspen’s got this perfect blend of runs for everyone in the family. Something nice and easy for the younger members, and themore challenging ones that get my adrenaline pumping – you can’t beat it. It’s nice to meet someone else who appreciates it. What brand of skis do you use?’
Oh, for God’s sake, always with the details. I freeze again. What brand of skis can I even name? Could I make one up? Would he be able to tell if I did? Ugh, probably.
Instead of reaching for yet another lie, I pat myself down, eventually locating my phone, which I pretend is ringing.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, it’s Geneva,’ I tell him, raising my phone to my ear and walking away, pretending to engage in a conversation, taking inspiration from the married man I spoke with earlier today. As you do.
Okay, so pretending to be rich isn’t going to work – I’m clearly terrible at it.
I’ll go find Donnie, tell him how badly it went, and try to figure out a new approach. Next time I won’t be so quick to send him away, that’s for sure.
I guess it turns out I really do need a wingman.
21
Donnie’s expression shifts as he spots me walking towards him, his face falling into the sand beneath his feet.
I skulk over to him, although it’s hard to feel too blue when you’re in Maui.
The sun-kissed sand, warm and velvety beneath my bare feet, glides effortlessly through my toes as I take each step, and it tickles like a dream. There’s nothing quite like being on a warm beach, alternating between dipping your feet in the soothing ocean water and digging your toes into the soft sand. It’s a very specific kind of therapy, one that can clear even the cloudiest of minds. I’m really going to put that theory to the test today.
I stroll towards him, my shoes dangling from my fingertips and my tail between my legs. The Maui breeze plays with my hair, ever so gently, making me feel like I’m in a movie. I’m half tempted to walk in slow motion, to really lean into the scene, but this is real life, and Donnie probably already thinks I’m mad enough.
‘That wasn’t very long,’ Donnie remarks, his tone a mix of curiosity and subtle disappointment for me.
‘Short and sweet,’ I reply plainly. ‘Like all of my efforts.’
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he suggests. ‘We can debrief.’
‘Well, we’re not going to need to walk far to do that,’ I tell him with a kind of pathetic laugh.
The beach sprawls before us, showing off the golden sands and bluey-green waters of Wailea. As we amble along, I look out over the Pacific. The sea stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon where one beautiful shade of blue blurs into another. A few fluffy clouds drift lazily overhead – even the sky is chilled out here.
The sun bathes everything in a warm, golden glow – even me, who could almost pass for having a tan in this lighting. It kisses my skin with a gentle heat that soothes me right through to my bones. I swear, back home, it feels like we had the longest, coldest winter this year. I was relieved when spring finally turned up, but the weather here makes spring in London seem more like the Antarctic. Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating, but I feel like I’m drunk on the sunshine right now.
‘I love this place,’ I blurt, soaking in all of the beauty that surrounds us on all sides.
‘It’s paradise, isn’t it?’ he agrees. ‘This time last year I was in Skegness. It was raining.’
I laugh.
‘That sounds about right,’ I reply. ‘Still, you can’t beat it, now and then, can you?’
‘You’re saying that as you stroll the beach in Maui,’ he reminds me. ‘Have a word with yourself.’
He gives me a playful nudge as he teases me.
As we walk, the sand feels like soft carpet beneath my feet, and the rhythmic crashing of the waves adds a soothing ambient white noise to our walk.
‘So, what went so wrong?’ Donnie asks me. ‘With the guy in the bar.’
I’m glad he specified that because, honestly, where would I even start?
‘I just had no idea what to say to him,’ I confess, my voice carrying a mix of amusement and bewilderment. ‘The conversation kicked off with him talking about the most expensive things he’s ever eaten, and all of the exotic holidays he has been on throughout his life, and I just had absolutely nothing to bring to the table. And, rather than being honest with him, I stupidly tried to change the subject to skiing, to pretend that was my rich girl vibe, but of course he was an expert in that too, and I have never even seen a person ski in real life. I’ve probably only seen it in cartoons, where a character flies off a rock and lands in a big pile of snow, disappearing into it, leaving nothing but a print of their body and their skis on the surface – do you think that’s how it goes in real life?’
‘I very much doubt it,’ Donnie says with a chuckle. ‘So, what, you left? What did you say, did you make an excuse?’
‘Of course I did,’ I reply. ‘The old fake phone call. It always works a charm.’
