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“Not as much as I should.”
Her expression shifts slightly, something unreadable passing through her features before she looks back out at the landscape. Palm trees sway in the warm breeze, the sun dipping lower as we drive along the quiet road that leads to the house.
I let the silence settle between us, though I keep stealing glances at her. She looks better than she did on the plane, but there’s still a stiffness in her shoulders, a slight tension in her jaw. I don’t like it.
After about ten minutes, we pull up to the house—if you can even call it that.
I try to imagine it from the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time.
The estate sits nestled against a stretch of white-sand beach, a sprawling modern villa with clean white walls and dark wood accents. Designed to blend in with its surroundings, rather than distract from the beauty of the island, its pristine white walls gleam under the golden sun, softened by the rich warmth of dark teak wood accents.
Floor-to-ceiling glass walls dominate the entire side facing the ocean, reflecting the rolling turquoise waves and swaying palms, creating the illusion that the entire house is an extension of the sea.
Robbie is the first one out of the car, practically launching himself onto the driveway.
“This is so cool!” he yells, spinning in a circle. “Can we go inside? Can we see my room?”
“Go ahead,” I tell him. “Your bags will be brought up.”
It occurs to me that the last time I was here, Robbie was a baby. It was a few months after Robin passed, and I was trying to get away from everything. Trying to forget anything that would remind me of her. All it had done was give me more time to think about her.
Our trip had lasted two days before we were back home.
Yes, I do own an island, and my son is seeing it for the very first time.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes off up the front steps, disappearing through the open doorway.
Annie steps out of the car more carefully, tilting her head back to take it all in.
“Jesus,” she breathes. “This looks like something out of a movie.”
I close the car door behind her, watching her reaction with barely concealed satisfaction. “I had it designed that way.”
She shakes her head, clearly at a loss for words.
“Come on,” I say,gesturing toward the house. “Let’s get inside.”
As we walk up to the villa’s grand entrance, a woman stands there, waiting for us with a warm yet composed smile.
She’s tall and poised, her deep brown skin glowing under the Caribbean sun. Her black hair is woven into an intricate braid that falls over one shoulder, and her crisp linen dress is as pristine as the villa itself.
“Mr. Wagner,” she greets me with a polite nod before her dark eyes shift to Annie and Robbie. “Miss Fox. Welcome to the island.”
Annie straightens slightly at the unexpected formality.
“I’m Maritza,” she continues, her voice smooth with a soft island lilt. “I run the household here. My team and I will ensure that your stay is as comfortable as possible. Whatever you need—meals, laundry, transportation, activities—simply let me know, and I will handle it.”
“Thank you, Maritza,” I say.
She turns to Annie with an even warmer smile. “I hope you enjoy your time here. The ocean is calm this week, perfect for swimming, and the kitchen has been stocked with everything you might want. If there’s anything missing, we’ll have it brought over immediately.”
“This place is incredible,” Annie says, looking around at the villa in awe. “Thank you for having everything ready for us.”
“It is my pleasure,” Maritza replies. “Now, I’ll give you time to settle in. But please, don’t hesitate to call for me if you needanything.”
With that, she turns and heads back into the depths of the house, her posture as regal as a queen’s. Annie watches her disappear through the villa’s entryway before turning to me with a smirk.
“She’s the vacation version of Ellis,” she says under her breath, amusement dancing in her blue eyes.