Page 24 of Storm Warning
“Only me today. Do you have a table in the garden area?” Kate’s eyes bounced around, taking in the tropical foliage circling her, the vibrant greens dotted with bursts of scarlet and orange blooms.
“Yes, we do. Please follow me.” The hostess glided ahead,and Kate couldn’t help but smile at the surrounding beauty as she followed.
“Let me explain our system. We have a lovely buffet just along this path, with continental items, made-to-order omelets, and waffles that melt in your mouth. This menu lists additional dishes you can order from the kitchen if the buffet doesn’t appeal. Your server, Mai, will be along shortly with a drinks cart. If you’d like to visit the buffet before she arrives, turn your coffee cup or juice cup upright for regular coffee or orange juice. Leave them upside down if you prefer something else, and she’ll stop by. Do you have any questions?”
Very efficient. Most hostesses were almost robotic, rarely offering any useful information. “No, I’m all set, thank you. You can have your menu back, though. I will try the buffet.” Kate’s stomach rumbled in anticipation of the savory aromas wafting through the warm air—butter, bacon, something sweet and yeasty.
Sally nodded and smiled, heading back toward her stand. Kate left her cups upside down—who said she couldn’t follow orders?—and made her way to the buffet. The sight that greeted her was a feast for the senses: an amazing array of vibrant fruit, flaky pastries dusted with sugar, and comforting trays of eggs and oatmeal, each dish calling her name.
She was overwhelmed with choices, a delightful dilemma, but finally ordered a seafood omelet, falling prey to its promise of decadence.
A smiling Polynesian-looking lady was waiting at her table with a beautiful teak serving cart, its burnished surface reflecting the soft lighting of the room and enticing her with an array of colorful bottles and carafes.
“Good morning! I’m Mai, your server this morning. I see you found the buffet. What can I get you to drink?”
Another bubbly person. A twinge of envy mixed with reluctant admiration in Kate’s belly: her own energy levels were still tethered to the cozy blankets of her dreams. Mornings were never her strong suit, taking hours for her to shake off the remnants of sleep and awaken fully. How did Mai do it? Right, Mai was waiting for her answer.
“Do you have apple juice?”
Mai nodded and retrieved a carafe, the cool glass glistening in the dappled light as she poured the amber liquid. “Anything else? Coffee or tea, perhaps?”
“I would love some white tea, if you have any, with honey.” She could almost taste the ethereal sweetness and lightness of that delicate brew, feel it sliding down her throat like silk. It was definitely her new favorite.
“Why, yes, I do. One moment, and I’ll prepare a pot for you.” Mai deftly removed a delicate teapot adorned with soft floral patterns and began preparing Kate’s tea. The clink of porcelain against the smooth table surface rang out, and Kate idly watched the steam unfurl from the carafe as Mai poured the hot water, the fragrance already beginning to bloom.
“Here you go,” Mai said, her smile as inviting as the tea itself as she placed the teapot before Kate. “Let it steep for about three minutes.”
As she enjoyed her breakfast, her attention drifted to her tablet and the news, banishing the surrounding sounds to a gentle hum.
“Did you hear? She’s staying in the Princess Suite!” An excited voice broke through her concentration, triggering an unexpected thrill. She tilted her head toward the sound, listening intently. “Maybe she’s a celebrity!”
Kate’s mind raced as she listened to them speaking of her—the woman in the Princess Suite. The notion that she was beinggossiped about, that she might be important, a celebrity even, sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins.
“She’s probably with Mr. Ivory—he’s supposed to be quite a playboy, although he’s never brought anyone here.”
She grinned at the thought of being linked to a playboy. Was that how they viewed her? The ripple of delight was sweet and slightly intoxicating, fizzing through her like champagne, until the stern voice of Sally cut through, snapping her back to reality. “Enough, ladies. Get back to work. This is not a gossip gallery.”
In real life, she would never be the center of attention like that, but if she were, she’d hate it. She was too much an introvert.
After she took her last bite of breakfast, savoring the rich buttery finish, and her tea was finished, Kate rose to leave, her spirits light. She couldn’t help but be buoyed by the whispers she had overheard. They fueled her rebellious dreams, spinning a delightful fantasy in which she could flirt with everything the day offered.
With a playful grin tugging at her lips, she headed towards the shops. Maybe, just maybe, she would wade into this new chapter of herself—one where flirtation with Nick and sun-soaked days mingled seamlessly.
As Kate meandered through the shops, upscale displays caught her eye, but her thoughts kept circling back to Nick. Was it foolish to think a little flirting could evolve into something more? Butterflies fluttered in her belly at the thought, a nervous trembling she couldn’t quite suppress.
She trailed her fingers over the gauzy fabric of a beach-themed sarong, its vibrant colors sparking visions of warm sunlight and spontaneity. For a moment, she imagined herself lounging by the pool, the sun on her skin, Nick’s eyes on her.Would Nick even notice? Probably not. There was nothing remarkable about her.
With a sigh, she straightened her shoulders. Enough self-doubt. She was here to work. She’d head back to the suite, put in a few hours, and try the Tiki grill later.
And she’d wear that red bikini Callie had recommended.
Chapter 10
Footprints
Kate kickedoff her sandals and let the cool sand swallow her toes, the sensation grounding her in a way the confines of her room hadn’t. The sky slowly slid into twilight, streaked with violet and gold that seemed to pulse with fading light, while sanderlings chased the lapping waves at the shoreline, their tiny legs a blur of motion.
She hadn’t planned to walk tonight. She needed rest—her eyes ached, her shoulders knotted with tension. But after writing all day, the walls closed in; ideas echoed, refusing to let go, circling her mind like restless birds. She should have gone out for dinner, or even lunch as she’d planned, but instead cooked in, mechanically eating pasta she barely tasted.