The Unexpected Honeymoon

Too admirable seeing how he agreed to absorb thirty percent of her expenses. What came over him, making such an agreement? There were concessions and then there were concessions.

You know exactly what came over you. You looked into those big blue eyes and wanted nothing more than to make them sparkle.

Nonsense. He felt sorry for the woman, that was all. He knew all too well the pain of waking up and realizing you’d been living a delusion. And to have the covers ripped from your eyes so quickly... His own disenchantment unfolded slowly, and that pain was bad enough.

What would have happened if he’d realized the truth about Mirabelle from the beginning? Would he have still spent so much energy trying to make her happy? Probably. He’d been such a stubborn, romantic fool back then. Quick to fall, slow to let go.

Thank goodness he’d learned his lesson since then.

“Hola, primo! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

His cousin, Jorge, jogged toward him. Like Carlos, he wore a black suit, although in Jorge’s case, the jacket fit snugly around his barrel chest, a fact his cousin, an American football player at UCLA, took great pride in. “You do realize the resort has a perfectly good boat launch that allows you to cover the ground in half the time,” he said, wiping the dampness from his upper lip.

“The boat launch doesn’t allow me to see the beach side of the resort. You might want to consider walking this route yourself. You’re out of breath.”

“Because I’ve been walking all over the property looking for you. Where have you been? You missed morning coffee.”

“I was meeting with a guest.”

“At this hour of the morning? Don’t tell me you’re picking up Rodrigo’s bad habits.”

Upon hearing his predecessor’s name, Carlos’s muscles tensed. “I was meeting with La—Señorita Boyd—regarding her wedding plans.”

“Boyd. Isn’t she the woman who checked in by herself yesterday?”

“She is. Maria forgot to cancel her wedding ceremony.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Carlos replied with a sigh. “It appears she was too busy sneaking around with Rodrigo to let catering know. I had to break the bad news to Señorita Boyd this morning.”

“You’re not charging her, are you?”

“What choice do I have? Everything was ordered, and you know as well as I do the resort isn’t in a position to eat those kinds of costs right now. I gave her as much of a discount as I could.”

That he even had to conduct such a negotiation made him want to rip his hair from his head. “Sometimes I don’t know who I want to strangle more. Maria for being so careless or Rodrigo for mismanaging the resort into financial crisis.”

“I thought that’s why I came aboard. To give you an extra set of hands so you could strangle both simultaneously.”

This was one of those rare days when Carlos wanted to take his cousin’s joke seriously. “I need you to have someone go through every event Maria booked. Call the people and update their contracts. I do not want a repeat problem.”

“I’ll take care of it soon as we get back to the office.”

“Thank you. Meanwhile, let’s hope the wedding coordinator candidate I’m interviewing this afternoon is more levelheaded.”

“He’s male, so at least we won’t have to worry about the two of you running off together.”

Carlos ignored the remark. Wouldn’t make a difference if the candidate was male or female. His days of losing his head were long gone and they both knew it. “Have you checked on the Campanella arrangements yet this morning?” he asked instead.

His cousin nodded. “Everything’s running on schedule.”

“Bueno.”

“The señor and the señora did ask if you’d be willing to make a toast. Apparently someone they know was toasted by the captain of a cruise ship.”

“And they would like something similar.” Carlos thought of Larissa asking about her cake. “So many silly details. As if any will matter six months or even six hours later.”

“It would mean a lot to them.”

“Then I’ll be there.” Whatever a guest wanted. Especially guests like the Campanellas who seemed the type to leave online critiques. He wondered if Larissa Boyd left critiques? What would she say? The general manager efficiently provided aspirin?

“What’s so amusing?”

He didn’t realize he’d chuckled aloud. “Nothing.

“Uh-huh. Is everything all right, primo? You seem distracted this morning.”

“Of course I’m distracted. I thought we were finished mopping up Rodrigo’s and Maria’s messes. Instead I had to bill a jilted customer on her wedding day.”

“Better you than me. I would have caved completely out of sympathy.”

Carlos didn’t say how close he came to doing that very thing. The two of them fell into step back to the office. Although only midmorning, the sun already hung hot in the cloudless sky. Sunbathers, eager to turn their skin to Aztec gold, crowded both sides of the walkway. A mosaic of body shapes sprawled towels and chaise longues. Some of the more cautious tourists staked their claims on the popular cabana beds scattered strategically around the resort. He wondered, would Larissa Boyd find her way to one of them to sleep off her hangover or would she prefer the privacy of her terrace? Pale skin like hers would definitely burn if exposed too long.

“I have to admit,” Jorge continued, “now that you tell me the wedding was canceled weeks ago, I’m surprised she’s here. She must have had nonrefundable airline tickets.”

“Or perhaps she simply needed to get away.” He understood. After a while, all the well-meaning comments and sympathetic looks started to eat at your soul. It was either scream at people to go away or lose yourself in a place full of distractions. “Whatever her reason, ours is not the place to judge.”

“The staff is fascinated by her. She made quite a memorable impression yesterday.”

Blue smudged eyes and rat nest hair came to mind. Memorable indeed. Wonder what Jorge would say if he saw her this morning.

Interestingly, he was beginning to think this morning’s version might be more memorable.

Mirabelle used to worry incessantly about her appearance, obsess over every hair, every ounce on her frame. As much as he reassured her that she would be the most beautiful woman in the world to him, his reassurances fell on deaf ears. Fell, and fell, and fell.

Something in him wanted to hope Larissa Boyd was different. Stronger.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a guest stay solo before.” Jorge’s voice saved his thoughts from traveling down a dark road.

“Of course we’ve had single guests,” he replied.

“Single, yes, but always as part of a group. I can’t remember ever having someone attend completely alone before. Certainly not a woman on her honeymoon.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Perhaps Señorita Boyd will spark a trend.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Jorge grinned, his smile white and even. “We could become the new singles hot spot on the Riviera.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A hotel full of heartbroken women.”

“What is it the Americans say about getting back in the saddle? Perhaps our señorita could use a stirrup.”

The idea of his muscular cousin touching pale American skin stuck hard in his chest, giving him heartburn. “The señorita came to nurse a broken heart. I doubt she’s interested in riding lessons.”

“You never know. Not everyone—”

“Not everyone what?” Carlos whipped around.

“Nothing.”

As if Carlos didn’t know what he was going to say. Not everyone grieves forever. Of anyone in the family, he expected Jorge to understand.

“It’s just...” His cousin’s voice softened. “It’s been five years. Don’t you think Mirabelle would want you to move on?”

“My days of giving Mirabelle everything she wanted died with her,” he replied. Fitting, really. Given all the times he failed her in life, why should his grief be any different?

Besides, he thought, looking out to the Atlantic, if she’d wanted him to move on, she should have left his heart intact. “The only people I care about making happy these days are our guests. In Señorita Boyd’s case, that means protecting her privacy.”

“Were you worrying about her privacy when you had security checking on her last night?”

Carlos stopped short. He should have known Jorge would hear of his orders. The hotel staff was a small community, and nothing escaped notice. “She’d been drinking. I thought it a good idea to watch out for her.”

“Old habits die hard, do they?”

Some did anyway. He thought about arguing the point, and blaming liability for his behavior, but Jorge would see right through the excuse. After all, his cousin knew all about Mirabelle. More, he’d been there the day they found her.

“I didn’t want to take any chances. There were too many similarities.” More than he wanted to admit.

Before he could say anything, the two-way radio on his cousin’s waist began to crackle. The first sentence was all Carlos needed to hear. “Housekeeping emergency, Presidential Villa.”

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