Mariana led us to the south guest tower and bypassed the elevators for the typical guests, using a keycard to swipe us into a nondescript door. It opened to reveal a luxury waiting room, spotlessly clean, with a long row of elevators.
“This is the room access for premium guests,” she said. We each received sleek, black keycards with a floor and room number stamped in white.
“Mr. Callahan and his friends have rented out all the suites on the floor. The five of you will share the largest. Now if you need—”
Her phone beeped loudly and she stopped talking to look at it. A quick smile flashed across her face before it relaxed back to its professional grimace. “I apologize. The resort needs me to finalize some of the catering choices. Would you like me to show you to the rooms or can you make it yourselves?”
“Do you need me to come with you?” I asked.
“She’s fine, Alice,” Beck said before Mariana could respond. To the wedding planner, she said, “Thank you for handling everything. We’ll be fine on our own.”
Mariana nodded. “Fantastic. I’ll be around getting things ready over the week. Don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions or need anything.” She started to walk quickly away. At the door, she turned and said, “Oh and Mr. Callahan and his friends got in not too long ago. They’re down by the Tides and Tiki pool.”
Left alone at last, we rode the elevator up and burst into the suite. We were greeted by an expansive marble-floored entryway that bled into a sprawling living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lush grounds and ocean not far in the distance. The five of us paused, stunned, in the doorway at the beauty of the room. Even Jules and Beck, both used to luxury, looked impressed.
Then Kylie gave a whoop of excitement and dashed around a corner, probably searching for her bedroom.
The rest of us followed after, albeit a bit more slowly, spreading out in different directions, eagerly searching for the next luxury. They were literally around every corner. I turned on a light and beheld a bathroom bigger than my entire bedroom back home with an ivory jacuzzi and glass-doored shower. The bedrooms all had massive king-sized mattresses, expensive decorations, and boasted the same floor-to-ceiling views as the living room. The suite rang with our excited cries as each of us called to the others to check out what we’d just found.
Once we got over the rooms, we started to get ready for the pool. I changed into my teal blue bikini that I’d bought just for this trip before throwing a shear wrap over my shoulders.
I took a quick glance in the mirror. I looked okay, a little tired from the plane. I ran a hand through my auburn hair, trying to smooth down an odd bump or two. Then I caught myself and rolled my eyes. Who the hell was I trying to impress? There would be absolutely no guys this trip. I had a mission and it was to get Beck down that aisle, smiling and happy.
I headed out to the living room where Jules was already waiting in a slinky black one-piece with parts cut out in strategic places. She looked like a billion dollars of tanned skin and cat-like dark eyes.
“Damn,” I said, whistling as I approached. “Where’d you get that suit?”
She turned away from the windows. “Thanks. It was a spare from one of my shows. The designer let me keep it.” As an afterthought, she said, “I like yours too. Where’s it from?”
I grinned. “T.J. Maxx, fifty percent off.”
She laughed like I was joking. I didn’t correct her, just chuckled myself.
I wondered if this girl knew anybody with a normal job. I wasn’t poor, but living in New York (if you weren’t a literal multi-millionaire) you had to prioritize. I’d had my share of absolute shit roommates so most of my salary went into my apartment, a glorious one-bedroom that was all my own. Next biggest expense was going out and having fun with friends. Food and clothes were where I saved — bargain-hunting and lots and lots of pasta.
“How’d you meet Keegan?” I asked her, changing the subject. Jules might come from a completely different world, but there had to be some common ground we stood on. I just needed to learn more about her.
“Well, my friend Shelly is a cheerleader for the Knicks and she was having a party in Ibiza. Her boyfriend is this, like, disgusting Russian businessman, but he does have a yacht and I was already in Paris shooting with Remy le Blu and—”
Jules regaled me with a story that sounded like the setup for a James Bond movie as the others trickled in until it was only Kylie holding us up.
“Probably preparing for round two with Henry Blackburn,” I said before going to bang on her bedroom door. There was no answer. I went back into the living room just as a loud yelp came from behind a closed door off the living room. Shortly after, Kylie exploded from what turned out to be another bathroom.
“You didn’t fall in, did you?” I asked.
She scoffed. “No, but I could have. That toilet is nicer than the shower in the last hotel I stayed at.”
“Then what was the shriek for?”
“Bidets are fucking awesome.”
Outside the temperature was warm and sunny, but not too hot, just enough to make me want to lie down in some shade or take a dip in the water.
We walked to the pool, following the signs in a pack, each of us announcing our plans for the week, what we wanted to do or try. Sam had made it clear that we were free to do anything on the resort, no matter the cost and I was planning to take full advantage of that. Sam was a freaking billionaire after all. It wasn’t like he was going to miss any of it.
Though the rest of the week’s itinerary depended on who you asked (Jules sounded like she was going to spend five straight days getting varying types of massages while Sarah was trying to convince Kylie to get on a horse), the general consensus was that tonight, we partied. There was a nightlife scene on a corner of the resort’s sprawling beachfront that looked promising.
Eventually Jules and Beck wandered further ahead while Kylie, Sarah, and I brought up the rear. Jules seemed much more animated when it came to talking to Beck, obviously feeling more comfortable around her (quite possibly because she assumed Beck was in her social class).
“What do you do in Kentucky?” Kylie asked Sarah.
“My parents own a farm just outside of Gainesville,” she replied. “It’s been in the family for generations. I got my degree in agriculture and I’m going to take it over when they retire.”
“I’ve never met an actual farmer,” Kylie said.
“It can be frustrating as all hell and a lot of work, but I genuinely love it.” For the first time since I met her, Sarah really opened up, talking about the crops that year and her horse, Misty. I had absolutely no interest in farming or even the countryside, having fled my home state of Kentucky as quickly as possible, but I did enjoy hearing about other people’s passions. It was hard not to get enthusiastic too.
“You have a guy back there?” Kylie asked after a bit, probing for the good stuff.
Sarah shook her head. “Nothing serious,” she said. “A guy I see on and off, but we’re far from exclusive.”
Kylie nodded appreciatively. “Hoping to get lucky at the wedding?”
Sarah reddened slightly, but she gave a coy smile. “I’m not on the hunt if that’s what you mean. But if something were to happen naturally…” she trailed off.