Page 89 of Whiskey Splash

I stop at the elevator and hit the button. “I don’t know, Arie. We haven’t talked about it. But the logistics of it aren’t looking good. When there’s a great big ocean between us, it’s not like your whole wham-ham-bam plan is going to be getting much traction.”

“My wham-ham-bam plan?” She looks at me like I’ve got three heads.

“Whatever!” I frown at her. “You said it.”

“Yeah, I didn’t say that!”

“I’m pretty sure you did.”

“Euphemisms aside, you should probably talk to him about it?”

“Really?” Now it’s my turn to look at her like she’s an alien. “You don’t think I should ride it out till the last possible moment then close up shop, like you did the eight-thousand times before you met Connor?”

“Eight-thousand is ambitious, even for me,” she quips, as the elevator door opens and we both get into the empty cart. “But the fact that you’ve, A—not onlyhad sex with this person, but done so multiple times; and B—he actually knows how to make you orgasm; and C—he isn’t a serial murderer. Uh, it sounds like we’ve found the famed magical white whale, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not that difficult to please!” I growl at her, insulted.

“Um, actually you are,” Arie retorts. “You shouldn’t be that difficult to please, but I’ve known you your whole life and of the few men in this world you’ve let into your bed, none of them compare to Desmond.”

“You don’t know that!” I snap defensively, tossing my hair back and pushing the button for the Spa level.

“Oh no, I definitelyknow that!” Arie says, practically bursting. “I’ve been waiting for Moby Dick to come into your life for a long time. Trust me, you notice when he’s here.”

“There are plenty of fish in the sea!”

“Yeah,” Arie nods like I’m crazy. “There are plenty of smelly, lame, blubbery, scaly, bottom-dwelling, scavenger, blow-fish, shit heads in your happy little metaphor, yes. But, earth to Esme, there’s only one Desmond Pike.”

Knots start to fist into the back of my neck; of course I know what she’s talking about. I’m not stupid. It’s just—he’s Desmond Pike, and I’m no one. And the second he gets back to the mainland he’ll forget this lovely purple haired girl from Hawaii.

It’s not like he’ll be sitting at home sulking, he does have fame and fortune and the glamorous movie-star life to distract him.

“How did you know about Connor,” I ask softly. That gets Arie to shut up and look at me seriously.

“How did I know Connor was the one?” Arie asks earnestly.

“Yes.” I nod. “And I’m not talking about the sex or your out-of-this-universe chemistry,” I say, tossing her own star-crossed cliché back at her. “How did you know you were in love?”

“Shit.” She looks at me plainly as the door to the elevator opens. She grabs my elbow and walks me over to a side terrace that looks out over the pool and ocean. “Wow, okay, so you two are actually pretty serious if you’re asking me that.”

“That’s not what you meant with your whole white whale metaphors?” I toss back.

She shrugs sheepishly. “I don’t want you to let a good one get away. Sometimes you have to wrestle with the slippery fish for a while before you both decide it’s not meant to be. I didn’t think …” Arie’s face goes pale and she purses her ruby lips, not a good sign when Arie’s concerned.

“So, how’d you know? With Connor?” I press.

“You realize, I’m the last person you should ask the love question,” Arie stalls.

“No,” I counter. “You’re the best person to ask that question, because if even the great love-em-and-leave-em Arie Noel fell in love—”

“Fuck-em-and-leave-em,” Arie corrects, raising her finger.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“It was when he punched his brother.”

“What?” I look at Arie, confused.

“I realized I was in love with Connor when he punched Ned,” Arie clarifies, pulling a ringlet of ruby hair forward and twirling her finger in it. “He defended me in front of his family. He picked me over his family. Or maybe it was afterwards, when I invited him to stay over at my place. You know I never let anyone stay over at my place, much less cook me breakfast in the morning. And if breakfast was ever part of the scenario, it wasn’t for eggs and hash browns, it was to fill the cream donut if you know what I mean.”

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