Author's Note: This has been sitting in my portfolio for some time. I haven't posted anything lately. Increasingly, I'm finding that my stories no longer fit in here at Lit. Please vote, follow and comment; it's the only payment we get.
Oh, and you don't get to shit on my lawn anymore. If the extent of your intelligence is a "cuck shit" comment, you'll get deleted, and the site will wipe out your pitiful vote. I welcome thoughtful comments even if you don't like the story.
Sir Peter Renton
I heard the garage door, then Jill's heels clicking through the laundry room into the kitchen, where I sat drinking coffee.
"Did you have a good day?" I asked cheerfully, happy to see her.
"The best," she enthused. "Look at what I got!" She tossed an envelope down on the table in front of me.
Hmm, heavy paper, a slight odour of aftershave wafting off it. There was a Coat of Arms embossed in Gold on the corner. It seemed a little pretentious to me!
"It's from a man," I mused. "Your boyfriend?"
"Oh, Mathew," she said, sitting down, smacking my arm lightly in approbation. "Yes, it's a man, and you're going to love it."
"And you want me to open it?" I asked, offering it back to her.
"YES!"
Her ass was wiggling in the chair in her enthusiasm for the contents.
"Okay, how about after I finish making dinner? We can do it then." I started to get up.
"MATT!" she squawked, giving me the stink eye.
I chuckled and bent over to kiss her, inviting her soft lips into mine. Mmm, a much better welcome home.
"Open the damn envelope," she demanded when our lips broke.
I sat back down and ran my fingernail under the flap. Hauling out a heavy gilt-edged square of paper, I read, "You're Invited." Below that was a picture of a gorgeous tropical bay. The incredible blue hues of the water shone through.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, "but what are we invited to? And who's inviting?"
"Sir Peter," she shared. "You might remember him at our corporate Christmas party a couple of years ago. He's opening a new resort in the Barbados. He's invited the entire law firm down there for a vacation. The resort is doing a soft opening to shake any issues out. We can help by going for a vacation. He offered it to all of us free for up to a month; we only pay airfare. The partners and I talked it over and decided that work is slow. I have nothing due in court for the next month. Everybody's going for the next couple of weeks; I want to do the whole month."
Yes, I'd seen the guy at the party. He was at a table with the bigwigs, and this was a year before Jill got her partnership. We, or at least I, had never met him. He was in that indeterminate, late forties, maybe early fiftyish kind of age, tall, broad of shoulder and burly. Good-looking, with a full head of hair. He was a well-known, world-class developer of hotels, resorts and schools. As an architect, I'd heard his name many times.
"Have you ever met him?" I asked.
"Just once about six months ago. Mort was escorting him out and introduced him when they ran into me in the hallway. We had a polite chat for a couple of minutes before he left. That's all."
"Okay, a month, hmm? That seems like a lot."
"Come on, Matt. You and I have worked our asses off for years. You with your architecture practice and me working hard to get through law school and then make partner. We've only just hit thirty, and it's already been years since we've had anything beyond a weekend. We owe it to ourselves to take that break. And let's face it. With only airfare, the price is unbeatable."
I couldn't deny the attractiveness of the offer...still!
"I'm not sure I can take all that time off. A couple of projects are nearing completion. Fit and finish choices have to be made by the owners. That takes my personal time. I'm not even sure I can do two weeks in a row."
Jill got a little snarly. "For fuck's sake, TRY! I want to go, and I want my husband there. I'd hate to spend a month alone in a romantic tropical destination." She got up and stormed upstairs.
Wow! Okay, no doubt about where she stood on the issue.
I cursed that little piece of paper lying on the table. Three weeks from now, I could probably swing it. Even if I could get around the needed time with the project owners, I'd more than likely spend the next week or two with a phone attached to my ear. Nor did I think Jill would spend much time alone at a tropical resort. There'd be too many single guys on the prowl, happy to help her fill in her time. Especially if I was absent or too tied up to participate.
Even more concerning to me was that Christmas party she mentioned. Jill had gone to the washroom. To get there, she had to pass close by the head table. Sir Peter had caught sight of her, and his eyes had followed her all the way to the washroom and back. It wasn't an uncommon event; she was that pretty. He'd bent over and indicated her to one of the senior executives, who had shaken his head at him, obviously passing on the bad news she was married. A short while later, he'd gotten up and switched sides of the table, making it look like he was talking to someone else. But he'd done it in such a fashion as to be able to stare past the person he was talking to. His gaze had been locked on Jill. It made me very uncomfortable that night. If he knew she was married and was still having thoughts toward her...!
That had been a couple of years ago, a lifetime for someone who met as many people as Peter would. Leaving her alone with a resort owner who'd shown an attraction toward her wasn't something I wanted to do. I'd have to check on his marital status. Not that that stopped a lot of Lotharios. As I got up to finish making supper, I was not a happy camper. While I cooked, I looked up details on Barbados and Peter Renton.
Over supper, I tried to convince her of an alternative plan. "Look, in about three weeks, I can take some time. We can go someplace much closer than that ten-hour Barbados flight."
She wasn't accepting it. "I've got a preliminary hearing ten days after we get back. I'll have to be ready for that. I can't go when you want to go. Right now is my only opportunity for months ahead."
Stalemate!
Nor was my position improved the next day after conversing with my partners and sounding out the two contractors involved. Building multi-million dollar projects is expensive, and the clock is running on the interest charges. Even a slight delay in the opening can set the project back tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars over the lifespan of the building. Talking to the suppliers helped a bit. Supplies were plentiful, and the usual delivery delays were not a problem. Altogether, I managed to find eight days before I'd have to head back for up to a week. Then I could go for the final two weeks, give or take; the timing wasn't precise. I shuddered at all the hours I was going to be spending on a plane. I was going to be more tired after this vacation than when I started.
When I laid that out for Jill that evening, she wasn't pleased but accepted it was the best I could do. I guess we were going to Barbados. Tomorrow morning, it seems. She was already packed and bought the tickets, not even knowing if I could make it. That irritated me a lot; she was pushing hard.
But then again, she's a lawyer, and pushy is what makes her good!
Our next problem occurred when we got to the island. The taxi driver had never heard of the resort. He ended up having to phone the hotel for directions; they didn't show on any maps yet.
The check-in was interesting. The manager was standing over top of the clerk, guiding her through the process. The employees were that new. With everything arranged, we headed to our room. Passing by the bar, restaurant and beach, we were surprised to see the place empty. There appeared to be some employee training going on in the restaurant, but that was it. We didn't see another guest.
We were shocked when the indicated path led us out of the hotel and through lush gardens. We passed a large pool and hot tub, ending up in a beachfront cottage with a wide veranda facing the ocean. Comfortable-looking rattan furniture, couches, love seats, a small table and individual chairs lined the deck.
Hot damn, it was gorgeous; we were maybe fifty feet from the water's edge. Palm trees waved in the gentle breeze, and birds called out to each other. You could hear the lapping waves hissing up over the sand. And the hot tropical sun after the dampness of Seattle...mmm!
Inside did not disappoint in the slightest. The cottage was large and roomy. Most of the front of the building was lined with windows. The view of the beach and bay was astounding. There was a comfortable living area equipped with couches, chairs and a table to eat at if you wanted. A hallway led to the two bedrooms and a big bathroom. Inside the master bedroom, a patio door led to our own personal hot tub. The ensuite was to die for!
Jill wandered around, letting out loud whoops of joy at the cool features she found. I had to admit it was all very impressive. There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find our host, Peter, accompanied by the bellhop with our luggage. Two workers were busy out front putting sun-chairs on the beach.
He held out his hand with a big smile. "Hi, you must be Matt. I'm Peter Renton, the owner, and it sounds like someone is pretty happy with the accommodations."
Jill whooped her way out of the bedroom to see who it was, bouncing on her toes with eagerness. "Peter, your resort is gorgeous. Thank you so much for all of this."
"Jill, right? Thank you for that compliment. I'm glad you like it. I must admit, you two caught me by surprise. We weren't expecting anyone for a few days yet."