CHAPTER ONE
The sun was a liar. It sat high in the sky, shimmering with warmth and happiness. Paradise, it seemed to scream. Welcome to paradise. It gave no warning of what was to come.
I’d spent most of the morning lying on a lounge chair that was equally close to the beach and the cabana, where a man dressed all in white had been refilling my drinks as quickly as I could empty them.
I’d been fighting with my husband that morning, about work, as always. Because who brings their wife on a tropical vacation and plans to spend most of each day in the room at the resort, so they don’t get behind?
Psychopaths, that’s who.
So, I sat and I sipped drinks and read on my Kindle, and I tried to pretend that I wasn’t bored out of my mind and all alone on a vacation that was supposed to be perfect.
I’d built it up in my head as perfect, anyway. But as soon as we’d arrived, I realized that wouldn’t be the case. As usual, my husband was too busy, too popular to fit me into his schedule.
The thing about sitting alone at the beach is that people either think you’re very sad—and they give you that pitiful expression somewhere between a sorrow-filled frown and an encouraging smile whenever they walk past you—or they assume you’re very lonely and try to sit next to you and strike up a conversation. I was in the mood for neither.
That’s what I assumed was happening as the man jogged up the beach toward me. I tried to look away, to hope that he was headed in another direction, but he kept his body aimed straight for me, his smile growing as he drew nearer. He was tall and fit, with tanned skin that said he either lived in the area or worked outdoors a lot. He wore a pair of khaki pants and a lime green T-shirt, with dark sunglasses protecting his eyes from the sun. I looked up, shielding my own eyes and preparing to tell him that I was just waiting for my husband, thankyouverymuch, when his question interrupted me.
“Would you like a free boat ride?”
I furrowed my brow at him, so confused by the question that had come from nowhere. “Excuse me?”
“Boat,” he said, his accent—I assumed Mexican? Cuban, maybe?— was thick, his finger outstretched, pointing toward the boat in the water. Boat was an understatement. The thing was a small-sized yacht, blasting music while a few people danced on its upper deck. “Would you like a ride?”
I sat up straighter, laying the Kindle in my lap. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand… You want me to ride in your boat?”
He laughed, putting a hand to his chest. “Not my boat. I work on it. We have an extra spot…if you want…”
I looked around, waiting for him to laugh and say I was getting pranked. “Why me?” Because I looked pathetic, sitting alone on the beach, most likely.
Sure enough, he gestured around me. “You are the only one out here by yourself, and we have an extra spot. Just one. My captain says to offer it to someone.”
I eyed him. “Where are you going? The boat, I mean.”
“Just around the coast and back.” He pointed to the drink next to my chair. “Free booze, music, ahh, it’ll be a lot of fun.” He shimmied his shoulders, snapping his fingers as he danced to the music from the boat.
“Is it like a private event, or…”
“No, Señorita. We didn’t get fully booked today, so sometimes the captain lets us invite a few extra people. We’re just looking for one more.” He glanced back toward the boat. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go… I can find someone else. I just thought you looked bored.”
I stared at the Kindle in my hand and lifted the beverage to my lips, finishing the last of it. The people aboard the boat appeared normal.
No, correction, they looked like they were having fun. Something I desperately needed to do.
“Can I invite my husband?” I pointed behind me. Not that he’d go…
The man glanced toward the boat again, and I saw a group of crewmen dressed like him coming out onto the decks. “No, Señorita. I’m sorry. We have to leave now. It’s okay… Maybe next time?” He waited.
I chewed my bottom lip, thinking for a moment. The waiter from the cabana approached me, a drink in his hand. What would that make it? My sixth for the day? I shook my head, handing him the empty glass. “No, thank you. I’m done for now. Charge the drinks to my room, and this is for you.” I pulled the twenty-dollar bill from my phone case and handed it to him as a tip. “Can you do me a favor, though? If my husband comes looking for me, can you tell him I went on a boat ride? Tell him I’ll be back in a few hours?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the man said, tucking the cash into his pocket. “Thank you, ma’am.”
With that, I turned to the grinning man, tucking my Kindle and phone into the oversized pocket of my bathing suit cover and following his lead toward the boat.
When we reached the dock, he gestured for me to walk across the metallic ramp and onto the yacht. I did so slowly, my footsteps heavy and loud, the alcohol and the heat beginning to wear on me. I hadn’t noticed the buzz before, six drinks wasn’t much compared to what I normally drank in an evening, but when you added that to the heat, apparently it hit harder.
As I neared the edge, feeling even unsteadier, two men appeared with their hands outstretched, to help me climb aboard.
“Welcome aboard, beautiful,” one said. I stared at his thin mustache and dark eyes, offering a small smile. The man who had invited me jumped onto the deck with ease—no hand holding for him—and they immediately began untying the ropes that had been holding us to the dock onto the sides of the boat.
I walked forward.
“Drinks and music are upstairs, Señorita. Facilities downstairs,” I heard the man call, and I nodded, waving a hand over my shoulder at him. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As I walked across the deck, the sun seemed warmer on the boat, its rays beaming down on me. I looked back at the shore. I don’t know why I did it. I knew he wouldn’t be there, but somehow… Somehow I had hope that he’d have sensed me leaving. That he’d been keeping an eye on me from the window of our room and that, upon seeing me getting on a strange boat with strange people, he might’ve shown a little concern. I pictured him running across the beach, a hand in the air as he shouted for me, but it was just a mirage. Not even the good type of mirage. I knew this one was fake the entire time.
He would not run for me.
He would not notice that I’d left.
There was a good chance he wouldn’t even know I’d been gone by the time I returned.
About that last part, at least, I was very wrong.
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