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“UM...MISS...ARE YOU sure you want another one of those?”
I glared up at the bartender, and he quickly went to fetch me another. Across the counter, Tom was sipping on a glass of sparkling water, pretending not to watch me and smiling politely whenever we happened to lock eyes. I ignored him as best I could and thanked the gods of Terminal D that some genius had decided long ago to put bars in airports.
“To you,” I raised my third tequila sarcastically at the barkeep when he reappeared, “you would have made the prohibitionists proud.”
The man looked confused as I threw back the shot. Across the bar, I could have sworn I saw Tom stifle a smile. But I was in no mood to attend to either one of them. I was too busy trying to figure out how my ‘new leaf’ regimen had spun so far out of control...
Saying yes to Jamie when he asked me to be a bridesmaid...? Okay, that one wasn’t my fault. I had to say yes. Jamie was one of my closest friends here in New York and the man was desperate. Not to mention, somewhere on the other end of the question was a hormonal, anxious, first-trimester bride—something I deemed akin to having the emotional control of an angry bear. I figured it was better for everyone involved—myself and Jamie included—if I didn’t give poor Stacy any other reason to stress. But that left Tom...
I played back the moment on repeat in my mind, occasionally snapping my fingers to demand more tequila. There had to have been something I could have done to stop that one.
Flamethrower? Pack of wild dogs?
I set the glass slowly back on the counter and frowned to myself. Why were these the things my warped imagination jumped to? What was happening to me up there on the seventieth floor?
“Jenna!”
A cheerful voice caught my attention, and I rotated around on my stool to see Eric making his way toward me through the crowd. He looked as dashing as ever—sun-streaked hair, broad-shouldered suit, sparkling emerald eyes. There was a kind of glow about him.
I returned to my drink with a scowl. That’s whose fault this was. Eric’s. If he didn’t hit on every guy we met when we were out getting coffee or at the gym—then maybe I could have crashed on his couch after all, and the whole nightmare with Tom and the kiss would have never happened. Furthermore, Tom would never have come to my office the next day, and this whole ‘groomsman’ debacle could have been completely avoided.
My eyes narrowed as Eric plopped obliviously down in the seat beside me. “Hey, traitor.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he glanced at the drink clutched in my hand. “Oh, it’s going to be that kind of a day, is it? Are you drunk? It’s eleven a.m.”
I snorted and lifted the life-saving booze to my lips. “You’re one to talk.”
“True,” he grabbed the drink from my hand and downed it before I could stop him, “but hey—I don’t have time for you to be mad at me, alright? I need to tell you what happened to me last night. Do you remember that guy we met at that sandwich shop—the one you said looked like Spanish Heath Ledger?”
With an exasperated huff, I spun again in my chair to face him, leaning tipsily to the side as I struggled to keep him in glaring focus. “I don’t want to hear about your amazing exploits with Spanish Heath Ledger, alright? Something tragic happened to me last night after you turned me out into the cold—and that something is sitting right over there.”
Eric’s eyes followed mine, and then frowned in confusion when he saw Tom sitting at the other end of the bar. “What is he doing here?”
“What does it look like he’d doing here?” I snapped. “He’s waiting for a flight.”
Eric paused cautiously. “It wouldn’t happen to be Flight 413 to Nassau, would it? Because as fate would have it, that’s the fight that we’re—”
“Yes, it most certainly would,” I interrupted, kicking him accusingly with my heel. “Because Tom is a groomsman now, Eric, and it’s all your fault!”
“My fault? How is it my fault?” He grabbed me around the waist as I leaned over the counter to find the bottle for myself and put me back in my seat. “I didn’t invite him.”
“No, but if you weren’t so busy with Don Juan the other night, then I wouldn’t have ended up at his apartment—or should I say mansion—and he wouldn’t have kissed me, and then he wouldn’t have come to my office the next day, and then Jamie wouldn’t have asked him to be a groomsman!”
Eric blinked mildly. “...that seems like an awful lot to be my fault.”
“He offered me Oreos, Eric!”
He opened his mouth to defend himself but closed it the next second—cocking his head curiously to the side and staring at me like I’d gone round the bend.
Okay, even I had to admit that one was difficult to follow with no context...
“The point is,” I concluded snidely, “you’ve ruined my life, so we’re no longer speaking. We’re barely speaking now as it is.”
He fought a grin. “We’re not?”
“No.” I sniffed. “Now I suggest you just sit quietly over there and think about what you’ve done.”
The bartender foolishly chose that moment to reappear, but fortunately, my flight was announced over the intercom, and I got shakily to my feet.
“Will that be cash or credit, ma’am?” the guy asked nervously.
“Ask him,” I shot Eric another death look, “he’s buying.”
Twenty minutes later, I was passed out on the plane. Eric had conned an old woman into trading places with him so he could sit as guard, while Tom was just two rows behind, watching me with that same hungry anticipation I’d seen in his apartment just twenty-four hours before. I’d kept it together just long enough to ask for a second bag of peanuts before my head hit the pillow as the tequila worked its magic. In what seemed like no time at all later, Eric was shaking me awake.
“J—we’re landing.”
Something soft tickled my cheeks, and I squinted open my eyes to see him leaning past me to look out the window at the sparkling blue ocean. I accidently inhaled a mouthful of his silky blonde hair and half-choked on something that tasted faintly of pineapple.
“Hey,” I coughed and twisted my head, “if you wanted the window seat, you should have said so when you first tricked that old lady.”
“I’ve never been here before,” he murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon, “do you think we’ll have time to go diving and stuff?”
A delayed shudder ran through my body, and I pushed him back down into his own chair and refastened his seatbelt. “Absolutely not. You know what’s out there, don’t you?”
He gave me a blank stare, but before he could say anything, a deep voice spoke from somewhere over our shoulders. “Jenna’s afraid of sharks.”
We both whirled around to see Tom standing in the aisle, a glass of champagne in his hand and a rather superior expression on his face. I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster while Eric glanced quickly between us before putting a casual arm over my shoulders.
“Mr. Larchwood,” he said politely, offering his other hand to shake.
Much to my surprise, Tom shook it rather enthusiastically, flashing him a warm smile as he did so. “Mr. Street. Before we get onto the ground, I wanted to apologize for our initial introduction a few weeks ago. At the staff meeting,” he added as if Eric didn’t remember.
Eric eyed him cautiously before saying, “That’s quite alright. We were all under a lot of pressure with the merger. I suppose you’re relieved that it’s all going to be over in a few days when the decision is announced.”
“I absolutely am.” Tom’s eyes twinkled. “One way or another, I have a feeling that nothing will ever be the same...”
He took his leave and returned to his seat for our landing, leaving Eric and me to cast each other strange, worried looks as the landing gear came down beneath us.
“Was he that cryptic when you two were together?” he whispered. “Must have made for some interesting pillow talk...”
To a passerby, it must have looked hilarious when the plane disembarked, and a flood of New Yorkers poured into the sunny little terminal in their designer boots and thick sunglasses. Kiev and Mariska—the firm’s lawyers who I think Jamie was too scared not to invite—looked like a pair of assassins, decked out from head to toe in expensive black furs and leathers. The rest of us didn’t fit in much better.
I took off my thick sweater, looking around for the baggage check in nothing but a thin camisole and jeans. I saw Tom glance at me out of the corner of my eye, but kept my gaze front, scanning around for Eric.
“There you are.” I grabbed his hand as he finally got off the plane. “Where did you go? I thought you were right behind me.”
He shrugged casually. “Had to give my number to the pilot.”
My eyes darted around anxiously, making sure no one had heard him. “Can you keep it together, please? Look, Tom is right over there watching, and after the other night, I’m honestly freaking out about being here with him.”
“Jenna, relax,” he put his hands on my shoulders and smiled, “everything’s going to be fine. Operation Thundercats is a go.”
I lifted my chin up slowly to look him in the eyes. “Operation Thundercats?”
He grinned. “Well, we had to call it something. Now come on,” he kissed me lightly on the cheek just as Tom turned our way, “let’s go get our bags.”
Thanks to my handy luggage tags, we found our things quickly and piled into the airport shuttle along with the rest of the group. It was funny, in a way, to see everyone on such equal footing. For once, there weren’t levels of authority to adhere to. There weren’t supervisors, or subordinates, or superior floors. We were all crammed into this little bus together—no walls between us—off to a wedding in the most beautiful place on earth.
That carefree feeling of bliss carried me all the way to the little row of beachside bungalows Jamie had rented for the weekend. I kept smiling as one after another, my co-workers were pointed to their assigned cottages. It didn’t even occur to me that something might be wrong until they were just four of us left. Me, Eric, Tom, and Jamie.
Jamie pointed casually across the sand and said, “Eric—that’s you,” before turning back to me with a sudden, horrified comprehension. “Oh...shoot, Jenna—I forgot...”
My smile faded a little. “Forgot what?”
“The bridesmaid and groomsman that dropped out were a couple...”
I shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
Jamie looked abruptly uncomfortable, but behind him, Tom had started to grin. “So...I only booked them one cottage to share...”
I swear, my face turned green as I looked at the gorgeous little bungalow sitting nestled on the sea. “Well...can’t we just...” I spotted Eric’s retreating blonde hair and waved my hand desperately. “Eric! Wait a second—can you come here?”
He jogged quickly back over the sand and stared between us. “What’s up?”
“Jamie forgot but...there’s just one cottage left—for both Tom and me,” I said pointedly.
Eric’s face clouded over as he realized the problem, but before he could say anything, Jamie pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the front desk,” he said quickly, “see if anything else is available.”
Tom just smiled to himself, keeping his dancing eyes fixed on the sand, as I turned to Eric in a whispered panic. “You have to let me stay with you.”
“Jenna...” he complained softly. “Do you see the guys here?” He glanced around at the men in swimsuits lounging on the beach. “We’re on vacation in the Bahamas, you can’t do that to me...”
“Oh, I absolutely can!” I hissed.
“I could take somebody home. And maybe we want to enjoy sweet private bliss.”
“What happened to all for one and one for all? What happened to Operation Thundercats?!”
A man who looked strikingly similar to the statue of David walked past, and both Eric and I were momentarily distracted. When I finally shoved him, he turned back to me with a rather distant expression. “I’m sorry, hmm?”
I rolled my eyes and elbowed him as Jamie hung up the phone. “Well, it looks like there’s nothing else available. I’m so sorry guys...I didn’t think—”
“Don’t be.” I held up my hand forgivingly. “You’ve got a million things on your plate right now. Besides, we’ve come up with a solution. Haven’t we?” I turned to Eric with a smile.
He shot me a look torn between utter amusement and utter exasperation before shaking his head. “Yeah, Jenna can stay with me.”
Tom’s head snapped up, but Jamie looked confused. “Why would she do that?”
All at once, the obvious problem occurred to me. In Jamie’s eyes, why would I do that? It’s not like Eric and I could fess to being a couple any more than Tom and me.
Eric turned to me with a triumphant smile. “That’s a really good question.”
A wave of nervous energy started sloshing back and forth in my stomach. “Well, it’s just...I mean, I thought...”
“It’s quite alright,” Tom said quietly, giving me a small smile. “I can find a room for myself at the resort farther up on the island.”
For a moment, I was intensely relieved, but logistically, I didn’t see how that would work.
“But the luau...all the wedding preparation,” I countered, “it’s all going to be here...”
He shrugged carelessly. “I can rent a car and drive back once I get settled.”
Jamie nodded, and Eric was already slinking away up the beach, but I shut my eyes in frustration. Of course—a guilt attack. I should have seen this coming.
“No,” I hated myself for saying it, “it’s fine. This place has separate rooms, right? We’ll be fine—we can share.”
“Are you sure?” Jamie asked hesitantly, but he looked extremely relieved.
“Yeah,” Tom repeated with a scarcely contained smile, “are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Come on—let’s go get settled in.”