Page 45 of Harper's Holiday Romance

The moment Julia left, the two dolphins I called my best friends came racing towards me. They emerged from the pool like a female James Bond and his less coordinated sidekick, that being Billie. She stumbled and had to use every limb available to stop herself from collapsing in a heap at the foot of a fellow guest.

I burst out laughing. Man, I adored them.

The last I heard from Julia:

Julia

Meet me outside the French restaurant at seven thirty.

Julia

Bring flip-flops.

Julia

And a snorkel.

Julia

Joking, but notabout the flip-flops.

The French eatery had the best reviews of the eight à la carte restaurants in the resort. None of the reviews mentioned flip-flops, so I still couldn’t decide if she was joking, but I’d placed a black pair in my bag just in case.

My stomach felt all the range of emotions. Sarah told me on five occasions to, “Take a chill pill.” Which didn’t help chill me in any way whatsoever. I’d originally decided to wear a skin tight nude dress, but the air was so humid my body’s perspiration and the dress officially became one. I needed something lighter and less suffocating. I switched the nude for a dark mauve coloured rib dress with a ruffled neck. The material was instantly more forgiving. I layered on top a small silver diamond cross, which would 1000 per cent get stuck in my hair at least ten times, but it elevated the outfit, so it was a minor sacrifice to make.

The restaurant was in the distance. I had my trusty resort map to guide me—yes, I was that person. When I arrived, there was no sign of Julia by the booking desk.

“Harper, over here,” Julia called. It took me a few seconds to realise she wasn’t sat in the restaurant; she was sat directly across from it, over the walkway and out on what looked to be a private extended platform. There was a solitary table for two overlooking the pool. It was breathtaking.

“What is this?” I gasped when I saw the ten-plus lanterns with live burning candles surrounding the table. “This looks incredible.”

Julia walked around to my side of the table and pulled the chair out. “Very chivalrous.” I smiled.

“I try.”

I took her in for a moment as she eased back into her seat across from me. The auburn tone was more prominent within her blonde curls. She wore a whiteribbed vest tucked into a pair of black linen trousers. The outfit was accessorised with gold jewellery and a brown cross-body bag. She looked so effortlessly beautiful.

Julia pointed towards the margarita glass. “I hope you like it. I asked for a sugar rim, instead of salt; that’s your order, right?”

How did she know?

“How?”

“I overheard you order one at the Mexican restaurant,” she clarified. Of course, a much more reasonable explanation than what my mind was conjuring.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“Is it too much?” Julia asked.

“No, it’s really beautiful, thank you.”

The occasional guest entering the main section of the French restaurant looked our way. I chuckled nervously. It probably looked like a proposal scene from an outside perspective; little did they know it was a first date.

The waiter arrived with a cup even smaller than an espresso size.

“This is a cauliflower and truffle soup,” he informed us.

There was a frothy white liquid on top. It felt strange at first drinking the soup consistency from a cup like it was coffee, but after the first sip I could understand the appeal.