Page 13 of The Tropical Romance Test

Starting with this Old Hollywood welcome feast.

I veer down the beach, to where I can see banquet tables being set up. “Hi!” I call to the cluster of grey jumpsuit-wearing minions?—

Wait, I feel kind of bad, calling them that; I always make the effort to learn everyone’s names on a production, but when I reach the group and try to introduce myself to everyone, they just ignore me, stony-faced.

Minions it is.

Luckily, everything is shaping up to be gorgeous, just like the 3D renderings and mood boards Nils and Nella icily presented to me earlier. The Old Hollywood theme is going classic: all luxurious cream and gold, with pops of scarlet red. The banquet tables are being laid with crisp linens and elaborate silverware. A team is constructing a discreet scaffolding over the tables, woven with flowers, so elaborate crystal chandeliers can hang down to light the dinner, and huge stands are being built around the area to hold masses of candles and more flowers – fresh from the chilled warehouse: the perfect photo backdrop.

I grab some floral garlands, and join in draping the palm trees nearby. “We’re going to need a taller ladder,” I tell one of the assistants, as he stretches to reach the nearest fronds. He looks blank. “Try the maintenance team,” I suggest. “Behind reception, take a left.”

He scurries off, and I cautiously take his place on the ladder. From my vantage point up here, I can see a couple further down the beach barefoot in the shallow water, holding hands, having a romantic stroll. I feel a pang of wistful envy, that only deepens when I recognize it’s my brother with Ivy, half hidden under her massive wide-brimmed sun hat.

They pause, splashing playfully in the water, before Reeve leans down to kiss her.

I turn back to my garlands.

I’m happy for them, of course I am. My brother’s been bouncing between flings and situationships for years. His first passion was always his work, and I was worried he wouldn’t look up from the screen long enough to find something real, outside the movie frame. He deserves it, and Ivy is his perfect match, it’s just…

Everyone’s pairing off, these days. First, our actor buddy, Jackson, reuniting with his first love while shooting a movie out in her hometown on Cape Cod. Now Reeve: knocked off his feet by a strong-willed historian with a taste for baked goods. I’m pretty much the only person I know who is still single. And not just solo on a Saturday night, butsingle. Embarking on a first date is rare and momentous occasion. And that’s before I say the magic words ‘my daughter’, and the guys flee for the hills faster than those cartoon roadrunners zooming off a cliff.

It never used to bother me. It was important to keep things stable for Lottie when she was younger, and I always figured the right guy would come along in time. But time keeps passing, and watching my brother and Ivy act so starry-eyed and in love now, it makes me wonder when’s my happy ending going to come around?

“Looks great.”

I startle at the voice, and almost slip from the ladder, but manage to cling to the palm trunk just in time.

“Whoa there!”

When I look down, it’s Josh right below me, steadying the ladder. “Are you OK?” he asks, gazing up at me with concern in his eyes.

And judging by my record with gravity, he wouldn’t be wrong.

“Uh huh!” I blurt, slowly peeling myself off the tree. He offers me his hand, and I climb down in a hurry, since clearly, I can’t be trusted to keep my balance when this man is around.

Planting my feet on solid ground – well, sand – I take a deep breath, recovering. Then I give him a playful shove. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you, don’t creep up on someone five feet in the air?”

Josh grins. “I’m sorry. Ladders, pools… I should come with a warning.”

Yes, he should.Warning: devastating smile, up ahead.

I grab another garland, and hand it to him. “You can make it up by getting the top branches for me.”

Josh gives a sigh, and dramatically pushes back his tousled dark hair. “I knew it. You only want me for my height.”

“It drives the girls crazy,” I agree, before adding sweetly. “What are you, five eight? Five nine?”

“Hey!” Josh protests, grinning, as he climbs the ladder. “I’ll have you know, I’m six foot one -- and a quarter. Didn’t anyone ever tell you, never tease a man about his height?”

“You’re right, I should have stuck to girth, instead.”

I say it before I can stop myself, caught up in our rapid-fire banter.

Crap.

But Josh just bursts out with a belly laugh, low and throaty. “I can tell you, darlin’, I’ve had no complaints there, either.”

Oh boy.

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