Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jack

T he plane’s intercom crackled as the flight attendant announced our descent into St. Kitts. I adjusted my seatbelt and glanced at Liam beside me. He was practically vibrating with excitement, leaning toward the window as if he could will the island to appear faster.

“This is going to be amazing,” Liam grinned. “Do you think we’ll see the beach as soon as we land?”

“I think you’ll be too busy navigating customs to notice much,” I replied, but I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Seeing him like this—bright-eyed and talkative—was one of my favorite things. It reminded me why we’d become friends in the first place. His energy was infectious, a perfect counterbalance to my more grounded nature. I didn’t just like how different we were; I loved it.

The first-class cabin was nearly empty, just as the rest of the plane had been when we boarded. Getting bumped up had felt like a stroke of luck, one that I was beginning to think might be a good omen. Everything about this trip had fallen into place smoothly so far, and now I was about to spend several days alone with Liam in paradise. If there was ever a moment to tell him how I felt, this was it.

“I can’t wait to explore the island,” Liam continued, already plotting out our itinerary in his head. “We could rent scooters, go snorkeling, maybe hike to one of those cool ruins—”

“Don’t forget this is a work trip,” I reminded him. “I’ll be busy much of the time. You’ll have to find ways to entertain yourself.”

He turned to me with a mischievous grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I brought a few toys to keep me occupied.”

Heat rose to my face, but I didn’t miss a beat. “Save the toys for when we’re shooting videos.”

His eyes sparkled with delight as he leaned closer. “Speaking of which, you still haven’t made a solo video. We’ll shoot one of you on the island. You’ll look so good, Jack. All tan, sweaty, and naked.”

I groaned and shook my head, but the idea wasn’t entirely unappealing. Still, I wasn’t going to let him win this argument so easily. “Focus on landing first, then we can discuss your grand plans for me.”

The plane shuddered gently as the landing gear extended, and the intercom came alive again with the flight attendant’s final instructions. Liam grabbed my arm, his excitement reaching a fever pitch.

“We’re here, Jack. St. Kitts. Can you believe it?”

I nodded, unable to suppress a grin. I believed it, all right. What I couldn’t quite believe was how much I wanted to tell him I loved him. But that would have to wait until the perfect moment presented itself.

The terminal was small, with palm trees swaying just outside the windows and a warm breeze wafting through the open doors. As we stepped out, a sharply dressed older man holding a sign with my name approached us.

“Mr. Barrett?” he asked in a rich, melodic voice.

“That’s me,” I said, extending a hand.

“Charles Monfils,” he introduced himself, giving me a firm handshake before turning to Liam with a polite nod. “I’ll be driving you to your hotel.”

He led us to a gleaming vintage BMW parked just outside. The car was immaculate, its navy blue paint catching the sunlight. Liam’s jaw dropped in admiration as we slid into the leather seats.

“This is incredible,” Liam whispered, running his hand over the polished wood trim.

Monfils smiled faintly as he started the engine. “She’s an old girl, but she runs well.”

The drive to the hotel was picturesque, the road winding through lush greenery with glimpses of the turquoise ocean in the distance. Liam was glued to the window, taking in every detail, while Monfils and I settled into a quiet conversation.

“I’ll admit, Mr. Barrett,” Monfils said after a pause, “I’m a bit apprehensive about this contract. Ms. Van Alen has been... difficult.”

That was putting it lightly.

“How so?” I asked, though I already had a pretty good idea.

He hesitated, as if weighing his words. “She’s been quite rude during our conversations. Changing her mind constantly, making unreasonable demands, and… well, she’s not exactly pleasant to deal with.”

I nodded slowly, choosing my words with care. “Evelyn has a strong personality. She’s… passionate about her projects.”

Monfils shot me a skeptical glance in the rearview mirror. “Passionate, yes. But passion without respect can be a dangerous thing, Mr. Barrett. She’s already mentioned slashing the budget, and I’m not sure how much more we can cut without compromising the integrity of the project.”

I wanted to tell him he wasn’t wrong, that Evelyn’s behavior had been testing my patience too. But I couldn’t. Instead, I did my best to reassure him.

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Monfils, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure this project is a success. We want the same thing: a med-spa we can both be proud of.”

He nodded, though his expression remained tense. I couldn’t blame him. Evelyn Van Alen had a way of turning even the simplest interactions into a power struggle. But if I played my cards right, maybe I could convince her to back off—or at least compromise.

“Thank you, Mr. Barrett,” Monfils murmured.

We cruised along the quiet, palm-lined road, the vintage BMW purring beneath us. Liam sat beside me, his fingers trailing along the edge of his seat like he couldn’t wait to jump out of the car and explore. Monfils handled the wheel with a calm precision that matched his demeanor—elegant, composed, and just a little enigmatic.

“Why does it feel like the island is deserted?” I asked, glancing out the window. The road stretched ahead of us, empty except for a smattering of cars that looked like they were moving in slow motion compared to the chaos of Manhattan traffic. “There was barely anyone on the plane, and we haven’t passed many cars.”

Monfils chuckled softly. “Ah, yes. A hurricane was forecast to hit the island two days ago. We were lucky; it turned away into the Atlantic. Many canceled their plans in anticipation, but as you can see, we are untouched.”

Liam leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Have you had hurricanes hit here before? Like bad ones? What happens then?”

“Many times,” Monfils replied, his tone conversational. “The Caribbean is no stranger to storms. We prepare as best we can, but when one is determined to strike, there is little we can do but rebuild. Some have been devastating, but we endure. This is our home, after all.”

As Monfils and Liam chatted, I found myself watching Liam more than listening to the conversation. He was animated, full of energy and questions, the exact opposite of the weary silence that hung over the rest of the island. He had a way of bringing life into every space he entered, even a quiet BMW with a stranger at the wheel.

When we pulled into the circular driveway of La Majesté Royale, it was like stepping into another world. The hotel rose like a palace against the backdrop of the sea, its grand facade shimmering in the afternoon sun. Beyond it, the ocean stretched out endlessly, a dazzling blue that seemed almost unreal. Everything about this place screamed luxury—the marble columns, the sprawling infinity pool, and the attentive staff waiting at the entrance.

Monfils parked the car and got out to help with our luggage. “Here we are, gentlemen. I trust you’ll find the accommodations to your liking. I will leave you to settle in. Call me in a few hours, and we can begin our work.”

“Thanks, Mr. Monfils,” I said, shaking his hand. Liam waved cheerfully as Monfils got back into his car and drove off. We turned toward the entrance, where a receptionist stood behind an imposing desk, her expression cool and aloof.

“Welcome to La Majesté Royale,” she said, her voice clipped. Her perfectly manicured hands hovered over a sleek tablet. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes,” I replied, giving her the details. Her eyes flicked over us, clearly unimpressed, but she nodded and tapped away. Liam leaned close and whispered, “La-di-da. This place is so fancy, I’m half-expecting a butler to appear and offer us caviar.”

I smirked, keeping my voice low. “Don’t jinx it. And by the way, we’re only taking one room, not both.”

The receptionist looked up, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “You’re sure? Both rooms are included in your reservation.”

“Just the one,” I confirmed. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she made the adjustment without comment.

Before she could hand over the key cards, a bellhop appeared, his uniform crisp but his tie slightly askew. He was young, with a mischievous grin that made him look like he was perpetually in on a joke no one else knew.

The receptionist frowned. “Is there anything else…”

“I’ll take those bags,” he said, cutting off the receptionist with a pointed look at her shoes. “Nice heels. Bet they’re great for standing all day.”

Liam stifled a laugh, and I couldn’t help but grin. The receptionist’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, sliding the key cards across the desk with a frosty, “Enjoy your stay.”

The bellhop grabbed our luggage and gestured for us to follow him. “Right this way, gentlemen. You’re in the Royale Suite. Real fancy digs. Try not to track in too much sand.”

“Great!” Liam chirped, as we followed the guy. When we reached the room, the bellhop pushed the door open with a flourish. The suite was breathtaking—floor-to-ceiling windows, a private balcony overlooking the ocean, and a bed so massive it looked like it could fit a small army.

The bellhop lingered for a moment, his eyes darting between Liam and me. Then he said, “You guys look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?”

My stomach flipped. “Familiar how?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.

He shrugged, his grin widening. “Dunno. Just a feeling.”

I told myself there was no way he’d seen our FantasyFans page. The odds were astronomical. Still, a sliver of panic crept in. Liam, of course, was unfazed. He tipped the bellhop generously and waved him off with a cheerful, “Thanks, man!”

When the door clicked shut, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Liam flopped onto the bed, stretching out with a contented sigh. “This is going to be amazing,” he said. “Jack, look at this! A private balcony, a sitting area, a bed that could probably sleep four people—I mean, this is luxury.”

“It’s nice,” I admitted, running a hand over the smooth wood of the dresser. “But I’m not here on vacation. Monfils will be back soon, and I need to prepare.”

Liam dropped onto the bed dramatically, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re so responsible, Jack. Can’t we just…I don’t know, enjoy this for an hour? Put your feet up, have a drink, maybe...” He grinned mischievously. “See if the bed’s as comfortable as it looks?”

Tempting. But I shook my head. “Liam, you know I can’t. Evelyn is already making this project a nightmare from afar. If I don’t stay on top of things here, it could all fall apart.”

Liam sat up, his expression softening. “You’re going to do great,” he said, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “You always do. And if Evelyn tries to mess with you, you’ve got me in your corner.” He leaned in, planting a quick kiss on my lips. “Now, can I at least convince you to come down to the beach and dip your feet in the water before Monfils gets back?”

I hesitated, but the hopeful look in his eyes was impossible to resist. “Fine,” I said. “But just for a few minutes.”

The beach was nearly empty, the soft sound of waves lapping against the shore filling the tranquil air. Liam walked ahead, his excitement contagious as he kicked off his shoes and ran into the shallows. I followed more slowly, letting the stress of the day start to melt away as the warm sand gave way to cool water around my ankles.

Liam turned back to me, splashing playfully. “Come on, Jack, live a little!” he called, his laugh carrying over the breeze.

A vision of Evelyn’s frown filled my head. “I wish I could, Liam. I wish I could.”