Island Love Songs: Seven Nights in Paradise / The Wedding Dance / Orchids and Bliss

“What’s not to like?” she countered. It was lovely. She saw people walking along the golden sand or resting on lounge chairs. All couples. This resort catered to adults, and clearly was a choice for men and women in love.

The beach was extensive, and she didn’t see Richelle or Roy on the portion that was visible. The driver continued on to the island bar, which was where they had originally arrived by boat.

She could hear the sounds of a live band before she saw the performers, and as the cart came to a stop, she looked around the small intimate bar with comfy cushioned seats and saw Richelle at the same time that she saw her.

“You’re awake,” Richelle said, rising to greet her.

“I’m awake.” Melanie drew in a deep breath of the fresh island air. “When did you get up?”

“About eleven-thirty. Then I called Roy and woke him up.” She smiled sweetly and rubbed his arm.

“What are you drinking?” Roy asked, looking up at Melanie.

“Is that a piña colada?” Melanie asked, indicating Richelle’s drink.

“Yep.”

“Then I’ll have one of those.”

“You’ll want to see how they make it,” Richelle said. “Fresh pineapple and fresh coconut. And the taste? To die for.”

“I’m sold,” Melanie said. When Roy began to stand, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll go get it.”

“Just tell Manueli to add your drink to my tab,” Roy told her.

“Why did you walk here with your purse?” Richelle asked her. “Just charge everything to the room.”

“Oh. Right. I didn’t think of that.”

“Please don’t tell me you have your phone in there,” Richelle said, giving her a knowing look. “No one is going to call you for wardrobe work on a film set this week. And even if they do, you’re taking a break, remember?”

“I can’t even play Angry Birds?” Melanie countered.

“No,” Richelle told her. “Good grief, there’s so much more to do here than be tied to your phone.”

“I was kidding,” Melanie said, though she did have her phone in her purse. Force of habit. “I was only thinking about paying for food and stuff.”

“Put all food and drinks on my tab,” Roy said. “I’m taking care of everything. I will be offended if you don’t.”

“Thanks, Roy,” Melanie said. “For everything. This place is amazing, and I already feel relaxed. Now how about putting off the wedding for a week or two? That way, we can stay in paradise longer.”

“Already working on it,” Richelle said as she took Roy’s hand and smiled at him. “Meet us at the beach once you get your drink. We’re headed down there.”

Warmth filled Melanie’s heart as she watched them stand and walk hand in hand out of the bar. As they strolled contentedly, Roy lifted Richelle’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

Melanie made her way to the bar. “Bula,” she said to the bartender, whose name tag read Manueli.

“Bula. You must be Melanie.”

Melanie’s eyebrows shot up as she sat on a bar stool. “How did you know?”

“Because your friend told me you would be arriving soon. Said to make you an extraspecial drink.”

“Richelle says you make an amazing piña colada.”

“One Likuliku piña colada coming right up.”

Melanie watched him cut slices from a fresh pineapple and put them in the blender, and then chop the top off a green coconut and pour the juice found inside into the blender, as well. He added some sort of cream, followed by a good dose of rum and ice, and then turned on the machine.

After about seven seconds of whirring, the blender came to a stop. Manueli poured the creamy concoction into a tall glass and presented it to Melanie. “Here you go.”

She sipped it. And felt like she had just tasted heaven. “Oh, my goodness. This is delicious! Thank you, Manueli. I’ll be back for more of these.”

Turning on the bar stool, she took another drink of the delicious cocktail and surveyed the area.

And her eyes caught a glimpse of a seriously sexy body. Strong golden brown legs, washboard abs, perfectly sculpted pecs...

An odd sense of realization dawned a moment before her gaze went higher, to the man’s face. Her heart slammed in her chest. And as she dared to look at his face, her eyes bulged in stupefied horror, and the liquid she’d just sipped went down the wrong way.

No! her mind screamed. No. It can’t be possible. There’s no way that could be him!

She coughed, almost violently, trying to clear her windpipe. With the commotion she was making, she knew she was drawing attention to herself.

Which was exactly what she didn’t want, especially if the man she thought she’d just seen was actually not a figment of her imagination.

Perhaps the Fijian heat was getting to her. Obviously, that couldn’t be him.

She turned back to the bar, where Manueli looked at her in alarm. “Are you okay?”

Melanie waved a hand to dismiss his concern. She slapped her chest, hoping to relieve the endless hacking. And as the coughing finally began to subside, she was certain now that the man she’d seen had simply been a look-alike. He had to be. Everyone had them, after all.

For God’s sake, she was in Fiji, not strolling along Wall Street.

Surreptitiously, she glanced to her right once more. And there he was, still standing at the perimeter of the island bar as if frozen to the spot, staring in her direction.

And then she knew.

She saw, at the moment, that he knew, too. The question in his eyes morphed into complete surprise.

Clearly, he had just spent the last few seconds trying to determine if she was truly who she’d appeared to be, just as she had done where he was concerned. And now, there was no longer any doubt.

God help her, it was Lawrence.

The man she should have married nine months ago. The man she had left standing at the altar.

* * *

Lawrence looked in the direction of the coughing woman at the bar, and at first thought that he had to be hallucinating. He was halfway across the world, on one of Fiji’s beautiful islands, a far cry from New York City. He had come here expressly to forget the very woman he feared his eyes now rested on.

She glimpsed in his direction once again, and then he was absolutely certain. The deer-in-the-headlights look on her face made it clear that he wasn’t dreaming. That indeed, Melanie Watts was here in the same bar at the same resort he was staying at.

Of all the islands that made up Fiji, Melanie was actually at the very same one where he was.

Melanie quickly jerked her gaze away from his and shot to her feet, and the purse that was on her lap went flying, spilling the contents onto the sand. Then her hand swung to the side as if in fright, and she knocked over the drink that was on the bar in front of her.

The bartender reacted quickly, grabbing up the glass. Melanie dropped to the ground to collect her strewn items.

Lawrence watched her, intrigued and mortified.

Melanie looked terror stricken. She kept glancing at him as she picked up the contents of her purse, as if she expected him to charge over to her.

And there was no doubt that a part of him wanted to do exactly that. Go over to her and demand the answers to the questions she hadn’t given him after standing him up at the altar. But the other part of him—the part filled with too much pride to belittle himself after she’d made it clear she didn’t care about him—kept him rooted to the spot.

Melanie finished hurriedly putting the items into her purse, not even dusting off the sand first, then threw another nervous glance in his direction, as though she feared he was approaching her at that very second. And that was what got to Lawrence. The idea that she was afraid of him. Even when she had broken his heart, she hadn’t needed to fear him. All he had wanted were answers, and even though she hadn’t given them to him, he hadn’t lost his mind and hounded her. He had simply let her be.

He watched as Melanie rebuffed a hotel worker’s help in getting to her feet. She quickly stood, then turned in the opposite direction from the path where he was standing, and hustled out of the bar area toward the beach.

And that’s when he made the impromptu decision to follow her. He had initially come to the bar to pick up a couple beers for him and his buddy, Shemar, but that would have to wait.

Nine months had passed and, yes, his relationship with Melanie was over. But still, he had to know.

She looked over her shoulder once more as she tried to flee, and her eyes widened when she realized he was coming after her. The reaction irked him. She had known him—known his heart—yet she had let every insecurity come between them and prevent them from getting married. Now, she was looking at him as though she thought he would rush her and throttle her.

Lawrence picked up his pace, jogging. Nearing the water now, Melanie suddenly stopped. She wanted to get away from him, but she wasn’t about to dive into the ocean to make her escape by swimming. Not the Melanie he knew, anyway.

She quickly scanned the area to the left. Endless beach. Then the right. Same thing. He caught up to her in time to hear her whimper.

She took a step to her left, but Lawrence put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re seriously not even going to say hi to me?”

Turning, Melanie looked up at him, and he could see the trepidation in her eyes.

“For God’s sake, Mel. Why are you looking at me like I’m some sort of crazy stalker? If there’s one thing you knew about me, it was that you didn’t have to be afraid of me. Yet the look on your face would make a person think you’re scared I’ll hurt you.”

To emphasize his point, he looked toward a couple a short distance away. Indeed, both the man and the woman were staring in their direction, clearly a little too curious about Lawrence’s interaction with Melanie.

“Oh,” Melanie said, following his line of sight to the couple in question.

“Yeah,” Lawrence said, unable to hide his irritation. “After everything, I figure the very least you can do is say hello when you see me, not run scared. I don’t deserve to be treated like I’m the one who hurt you.”

There. He’d gotten that off his chest. Because if anyone should be running scared, it was him. Melanie was the one who had trampled all over his heart.

He sure as heck hoped that she hadn’t avoided him because of an unfounded fear that he would become some sort of nutcase. She owed him a conversation, an explanation, and that was all he had wanted. If she’d been able to tell him that she didn’t love him and didn’t want to marry him, as much as it would have hurt, he would have wished her well and moved on.

But she hadn’t told him anything, and that had him stuck emotionally. Unable to truly move on.

“I—I—I’m sorry,” Melanie stuttered. “It’s just—I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I’m here for Richelle’s wedding,” she explained.

“Ah. So Richelle’s getting married again?” Lawrence processed the information. He remembered all too well that it was Richelle’s own failed engagement that had led to Melanie’s doubts about whether or not any marriage could be successful. That and the fact that her father had never been able to stay faithful to her mother.

“Not again,” Melanie clarified. “This will be her first marriage. Since her wedding to Vern last year didn’t actually happen.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” Lawrence couldn’t help saying. When Melanie’s lips tightened, he asked, “She getting married to Roy? The football player?”

“Yep,” Melanie answered, not looking at him. Instead, she was searching the beach. “And, ah, there they are. They told me to meet them, so, uh, I’ll see you around.”

Lawrence’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll see me around?”

“What do you want me to say?” Melanie asked, sounding exasperated.

“I want to know why,” Lawrence said. “That’s what I want to hear from you. Tell me why you left me.”

Melanie withered beneath his hard stare. But Lawrence didn’t avert his gaze, because she deserved to wither. She deserved to feel even a morsel of the pain she had caused him to feel.

“This isn’t the time,” she said.

“Then when is the time?” Lawrence asked. “Let’s set a date. Mark me in on your calendar and put it in that phone of yours so you won’t forget. We’re in Fiji, where you can’t hide behind your work. Maybe now I can get some answers.”

“Lawrence, stop.”

“Stop?” he countered. “So that’s just it? You break my heart, you humiliate me in front of my family and friends, and I don’t have a right to know why?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you didn’t say anything. You just stood me up and never even gave me a courtesy call to say you were sorry, at the least.”

Melanie’s bottom lip trembled. And once again, there was the look of fear in her eyes. But he could see now that it wasn’t the kind of fear that said she was afraid he would hurt her. Rather, it was the kind of fear that came when you were caught in an uncomfortable situation you didn’t want to be in.

But dammit, she owed him closure. She owed him answers, and then he could forget her forever.

“We were supposed to get married,” Lawrence went on. “We were supposed to be husband and wife. Only you didn’t show up. You made an executive decision to change the plans we had for our life together. Fine—maybe you’re not sorry about how you handled the situation, about how you hurt me. But at the very least, don’t you think you owe me an explanation as to why?”

“I—I can’t do this. Richelle...she’s waving me over.”

“Richelle isn’t going anywhere. We’re on island time.”

Melanie was shaking her head. “I—I’m sorry, Lawrence. I—I am. I know I never told you, and, yes, you deserved an apology, so I’m telling you now. I’m sorry. Just know that.”

And before he could say another word, she quickly turned, desperate to be able to escape him, and all but sprinted on the sand over to Richelle and Roy.

Leaving Lawrence standing there like a fool.

Much like he had stood like a fool at the altar of the church on their wedding day, waiting for his bride-to-be who would never show up.

Chapter 3

“Was that Lawrence?” Richelle asked, gazing beyond Melanie’s shoulder to look in the direction of the stretch of beach near the island bar.

Now beside her friend, Melanie finally released a pent-up, frazzled breath. “Yeah.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Melanie’s heart was beating frantically, and she felt light-headed. She was in a state of shock.

“Why is he here?” Richelle went on, a sense of wonder in her tone.

Melanie threw her hands up in frustration, and then dropped down onto the lounge chair beside the one where Roy was sitting. “Hell if I know.”

“Wait,” Roy said. “That was Lawrence—your former fiancé?”

Melanie nodded.

“I didn’t realize you guys were talking again.”

“We’re not.”

Roy looked confused. “But you must have told him you were going to be here.”

“You think I invited him here?” Melanie asked, her tone incredulous. Then, realizing that her reaction was too harsh, she said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It’s just that...I haven’t spoken to Lawrence in nine months. I have no clue why he’s here.”

“I was just gonna say, if you want to bring him to the wedding, it’s cool with me.”

Melanie’s eyes widened. Invite him to the wedding?

“Roy, honey,” Richelle began, placing her hands on Roy’s shoulders. “You said you were going in the water, right?”

Roy looked over his shoulder at Richelle, who smiled sweetly at him, then at Melanie. And he seemed to get that Richelle was shooing him off so that she and Melanie could have some privacy.

Roy stood and dutifully took his shirt off. “Yep.”

Richelle gave him a quick kiss, and then he headed into the turquoise-blue water. Richelle sat across from Melanie on the second lounge chair.

“Wow,” Richelle said, and then chuckled softly. “We come all the way from New York to Fiji and Lawrence is here?”

Melanie looked up from the sand and met Richelle’s gaze. Her friend’s eyes were dancing with excitement. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

“I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” Richelle went on. “Come on, you don’t think it’s a coincidence that he’s here?”

“It’s a disaster, that’s what it is.”

“You didn’t tell him accidentally, did you?”

“Accidentally?” Melanie looked at Richelle in shock. “How could I tell him accidentally if I haven’t spoken to him in nine months?”

“I’m just wondering if he saw the news about the wedding on your Facebook page, or on Twitter.”

“I unfriended him, but even if he had access, I never said where we were going to be. I’ve been very careful about that.”

“Well, maybe he heard about the wedding through a mutual friend, and he decided he’d head to Fiji to get a chance to talk to you. I’m sure he still wants closure.”

“Lawrence isn’t the kind of guy to get on a plane and come all the way here for the sole purpose of talking to me. If he’d wanted to talk to me, he would have done so in New York.”

“If you’re certain that he didn’t find out about the wedding, then it sounds like fate is making a major play.”

“Fate?” Melanie countered. “It’s simply a coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” Richelle shook her head. “No, it’s more like the universe forced the two of you together. I sense a reconciliation in the making....”

Melanie’s jaw dropped. “Don’t say that. Don’t even start on that.”

“Why not? I always thought you and Lawrence—”

“We’re over. He never even called me after the wedding, remember?” Melanie swallowed painfully, remembering how a part of her heart had hoped that he would reach out to her. Reach out to her and beg her to take him back, beg her to come to her senses.

“You mean the wedding where you stood him up?” Richelle said, giving her a pointed look.

“Obviously, he wasn’t too torn up over it,” Melanie insisted. “Because he said nothing to me. Not a call, not a text message, not an email.”

“Because you stood him up—” Richelle stressed.

“He didn’t reach out to me, and I didn’t reach out to him, which makes it very clear that both of us knew we were heading down the wrong path. It was better to leave things as they were than fight for something that wasn’t supposed to be.”

Richelle rolled her eyes. “It’s more like you broke his heart, and he was too hurt to talk to you,” she said. “Everyone has to have their level of pride.”

“Don’t take his side,” Melanie said, pouting.

“This isn’t about sides, Mel. You’re my friend, and I love you, but I’ve never once told you that I agreed with you if I didn’t. Remember how I reamed you out for putting Nair in LaRita’s shampoo in tenth grade? I still loved you, but I told you that you were wrong to get revenge like that. You should have just reported her for bullying you.”

“She never bothered me again, now did she?” Melanie countered, smiling slightly with the memory of how the tables had turned on LaRita. Once half-bald, other students had started bullying her, and Melanie’s life had gotten a lot easier.

“You got what you wanted, but you didn’t do it the right way,” Richelle said. “Just like with Lawrence. If you didn’t want to marry him, fine. But you shouldn’t have stood him up at the altar like that. It was wrong. You can’t turn around and blame him for not trying to talk to you after that.”

Melanie swallowed uncomfortably. She knew that no matter what she said, Richelle was right. Melanie couldn’t shift any blame onto Lawrence for her actions.

It was just that she never expected to see him again. Least of all not here, in Fiji.

“What did he say to you?” Richelle asked.

Melanie sighed. “That he wanted an answer. That I owed him one for how I humiliated him on our wedding day.”

“And you said?”

Melanie hesitated. Then she shook her head.

“You avoided him,” Richelle surmised. “Of course.”

“It’s a big enough shock that he’s here in Fiji, for God’s sake. I’m supposed to have a serious conversation like that on the spot?”

“Mel.” Richelle tsked. “What are you going to do? Avoid him for the rest of the trip?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know you. You’re afraid to face him. And I understand why. But please, hon, don’t run scared while you’re in Fiji. If it’s truly over between you and Lawrence, what harm will come from talking to him? And what if it’s not really over....”

Richelle got to her feet, grinning devilishly as she did. Then she pulled off her bathing suit cover, dumped it on the lounge chair and jogged into the water to join Roy.

Leaving Melanie to ponder Richelle’s words.

* * *

“Was that Melanie?” Shemar asked when Lawrence slumped onto the lounge chair beside him.

“Yeah.” Lawrence’s tone was clipped.

“She’s here?” Shemar asked, disbelievingly. “We come all the way to Fiji and she’s here?”

“Tell me about it, bro. That about sums up my luck.”

“Unbelievable.” Shemar made a face. “Guess that’s why you didn’t get our beer.”

“Oh, sorry. I was distracted.”

“So, what’d she have to say for herself?” Shemar asked, his tone sounding cautious.

“That she’s here for a wedding. You remember how her friend Richelle started dating that quarterback who used to play for the Giants?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, Richelle’s marrying the guy. Here. In Fiji. Of all places.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Shemar said. “If there’s a wedding happening, sounds like Melanie will be busy. And so will we. You probably won’t run into her again.”

Lawrence gritted his teeth as he stared out at the water. This was an island paradise, the exact type of place he would have loved to come with a special woman in his life. But he’d come with Shemar instead to golf, snorkel and scuba dive.

And now Melanie had appeared and had already turned this trip upside down. Lawrence had six more days here—six days he was supposed to be spending purging Melanie from his system. Yet how could that happen now?

Shemar stood and clamped a hand down on Lawrence’s shoulder. “I know that look, Lawrence. But like I said, don’t sweat it. It’s a big resort. You don’t have to see her again if you don’t want to. I’m going to get those beers. You need it.”

Shemar was Lawrence’s best friend. He’d been his best man for the wedding that never happened. He’d been there in the aftermath of Melanie’s no-show and had consoled him with tough talk about how he was better off not having married her because clearly Melanie wasn’t the woman for him. Shemar had assured him that there were many other fish in the sea, and that there were thousands of women in New York City who would appreciate a guy like him.

“We’re stockbrokers, man,” Shemar had told him. “We make a ton of cash. You know how many women appreciate men like us? They’ll be coming out of the woodwork for you, bro. Trust me.”

There were problems with Shemar’s theory, of course. The first one was that Shemar himself was still single, despite the fact that he saw himself as a hot commodity. The second problem was that the women who tended to be interested in them simply because of their careers were shallow. That breed of woman was more intrigued by their healthy bank accounts than by who they really were.

And it was easy to find the gold diggers when out with Shemar. He loved to flaunt like a high roller, buying drinks for beautiful women, waving cash at the bar, the whole nine yards. It was no surprise to Lawrence that women ended up being more interested in what Shemar’s money could buy them, than in the man himself.

None of that fazed Shemar, though. He enjoyed dating a series of beautiful women, enjoyed wining and dining and impressing them. And ultimately, leaving them when he got bored.

It was that kind of mind-set Shemar had tried to impart onto Lawrence, but without luck. Lawrence wasn’t like Shemar. He couldn’t move from one monogamous relationship to the next with ease. Shemar had set him up with a few girls back home after his disastrous wedding day, but Lawrence had ultimately compared all of them to Melanie.