With her sketchpad in hand, she approached the poolside bartender. “I’d like a fruit smoothie?”
“Absolutely, miss,” he replied with a smile.
“Great, can you deliver it over there?” She pointed across the ginormous pool to the cozy area partitioned by shrubbery.
“The Palm Patio. Yes, miss.”
She meandered along the concrete path. “The Palm Patio,” she whispered. “I like it.”
She chose a wrought iron table and sank down into the chair, smiling at the only other couple. They were so caught up in each other they hardly noticed her.
No doubt newlyweds, Cat thought.
With a sigh, she opened her sketchbook and reminded herself not to think about cheating assholes and jilted brides-to-be.
The bartender delivered her fruit smoothie and confirmed her room number.
She forgot to say “no straw”, but next time. She sipped. Wow! The mango and peach awakened her taste buds. She took another sip. After her incredible morning, she didn’t want a heavy lunch. Sweet, cool, and refreshing. This hit the spot.
Staring at the blank page, her mind wandered freely. What did she want to sketch? She pulled a medium charcoal from her box and began with some simple lines—straight and curved.
She tilted her head to the side. She added some short strokes, layering them horizontally. Smudging lightly for effect. Her palm tree was taking shape. Maybe she’d add another one so it wasn’t lonely.
The lines came slowly. She was a little rusty, having spent zero time on her craft in the last year. But it felt good just the same. She barely noticed someone hovering close until a shadow covered half her pad.
She stopped and lifted her head. The person who stood beside her was the same man she’d seen in the elevator the day before.
“I’m sorry to bother you. That’s very good.” He spoke with no detectable island accent. He smiled, and his gaze traveled from her sketch to her eyes.
“Thanks.”
He shifted his water glass to his left hand and offered his right. “Nicholas Westbrook.”
She wiped her hand on her napkin and shook his. “Catherine Dalton.”
“Nice to meet you, Catherine.” He nudged his chin toward her sketchbook. “Is this a job or a hobby?”
He slipped off his sunglasses. His blue eyes twinkled in the afternoon sunlight, their hue as rich as the ocean before her. His dark brown hair had a shine that any woman would envy.
“Please call me Cat. And this is more hobby than anything.”
He took a seat at the table next to hers. “Well, you’re very talented.”
The corners of her lips pulled upward. She hadn’t had a compliment on her art in a long time. She missed it. “Thank you.”
“What do you do when you’re not creating art?”
“I’m a paralegal. What do you do?”
“I work for a wine and liquor distributor—this is my sales territory. I like to stay at this resort and branch out from here. Over the next three weeks, I’ll cover several of the Caribbean Islands.”
That explains the logo shirts.
A waitress arrived carrying what looked like a jerk chicken salad and placed it before him. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
“No. This is great.” He turned toward Cat. “What brings you to Saint Lucia?”
Shit! She hadn’t planned for this. She hadn’t expected to have to answer these kinds of questions. She swallowed hard. “It was supposed to be my honeymoon.”
He paused. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I mean, best to learn now than later.”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. “You caught him cheating?”
“Yup.”
“Damn.” He shook his head back and forth several times.
They sat in silence for a while. She sketched while he ate. When he was finished, he asked. “How’d you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“You gotta eat, right? So do I. We could just eat together.” The sheepish grin that crossed his face was pretty adorable, Cat had to admit.
This wasn’t what this trip was about. It’s just dinner. She lifted a shoulder. “Okay.” Why not? The company might be nice.
“Great. How about we meet at the Seaside restaurant at seven. That will give me time to visit a few more clients on the island, and you time for sketching,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll meet you there.”
He dropped his napkin on the table and rose to offer his hand. “Nice to meet you, Cat Dalton. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“See you soon.”
She watched him leave and couldn’t help but notice what a nice backside he had. She wasn’t in the market for a man. God, no. But if she was going to be alone for two weeks, an occasional someone to talk to might be good.
As she returned to her sketch, she thought, it’s just dinner.
“So where are you from?” Nicholas asked as the waiter refilled their wine glasses.
“Austin. Lived there all my life. What about you?” She scooped up some rice pilaf and chewed. Everything tasted exquisite, so fresh. The smoothie at lunch hadn’t stayed with her long enough.
“Orlando. I actually moved there for this job five years ago. They wanted someone close to cover the islands.”
“So you go around from resort to resort?”
He sipped his chardonnay. “Yup. Resorts, hotels, and several restaurants and bars.”
“Wow. Cool job.”
He gave her a nod. “It can be. Of course, it creates a challenge when trying to sustain a relationship.”
“Ah, yes. The traveling salesman.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her cloth napkin and returned it to her lap.
Swallowing his bite of shrimp, he blotted his lips and met her gaze. “Mind if I ask what happened? With the ex.”
“No. Not much to tell.” She tipped her head, debating how much crap she wanted to off-load on unsuspecting Nicholas. “We’d been dating for just about two years. I caught him with some blonde two days before we were supposed to get married.”
“Ouch. What an asshole.” His face scrunched up like he’d swallowed a cockroach.
“He said I wasn’t adventurous enough. Not a risk taker.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Thanks,” she replied nonchalantly, trying to keep some emotional distance from the whole incident. Not to mention, any sort of breakdown at the restaurant would likely be frowned upon.
“So he was trying to cram in as much fun as he could before getting hitched.”
She took a long drink from her glass and pointed straight at him. “Bingo.”
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I actually think most times men bring that out of their women. Or visa-versa. It’s something they share together. But if the woman trusts the man, she’s more willing to try new things. If the trust isn’t there, it makes it harder to step out of your comfort zone. In my opinion.”
She’d never thought of it that way. Nicholas wasn’t trying to make any assumptions about her and Jack. In fact, he just might have a point, but regardless, she would take some time before she even needed to question trusting a guy in a relationship again. She’d thought she could trust Jack… Anyway, relationships were going on the back burner for a while.