Chapter Two

She awakened slowly; drifting soothingly in that place somewhere between being asleep and being awake. She was aware, but scarcely, of the calming, comforting, rhythmic-ness that was engulfing her and she thought herself possibly still dreaming. The salty ocean air reminded her and she opened her eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m in heaven! She said out loud.

She sat up and leaned against the numerous pillows in the King-sized bed, which was perched high up on a platform. It was draped in rich, luxurious, fabrics and textures; layers upon layers of silks and satins, and cottons and chenille’s, all in various shades of white. Even the marble floor was eloquently white. The room was otherwise unfurnished. She relished her moment of waking in this blissfully fluffy bed and delighted at the floor-to-ceiling windows, humongous and unadorned, that framed the multi-million dollar views.

She sat up, and stretched her arms straight above her head, and breathed in the ocean which was displayed before her in all of its magnificence. She felt relaxed and completely at peace; and like quite the spoiled girl. She smiled as she took it all in.

Julia finally got out of bed and made her way down the long hallway. She happened upon the kitchen, quite by lucky accident and simultaneously she felt the warmth of the sun and the cool marble beneath her bare feet. Appreciation for both passed through her sleepiness and moved on. She smelled the deep, rich, aroma of coffee.

“Now I know I’m in heaven.” She said out loud, as she poured coffee into the over-sized mug that was on the white, granite countertop.

“Glad to hear you feel that way, darlin’” Jason said from behind her.

She jumped and let out a screech.

“Ahhhhhhhh! Geez!” She screamed.

“You scared the . . . you almost gave me a heart attack!” She screamed again as she laughed and held her hand over her heart.

“You just aged me twenty more years!”

Jason laughed. “Sorry”, he said smugly.

He was amused at her plaid, flannel boxers and tattered, old Harley t-shirt and also by the fact that she would pack such things. But what really caught his eyes and made them sparkle was her current state of disrepair. He teasingly enjoyed that she hadn’t yet checked a mirror and had no idea of what a mess she was. Her usually beautiful, curly red locks were indiscriminately sticking out everywhere, some here and a little more there; and it was oddly flat on one side and kind of all puffy and big on the other side.

He smiled and said nothing.

Julia wondered how he could manage to look so healthy and rested this early in the day. In the morning’s bright light she could see the many thin lines around his eyes and the deeply burrowed worry lines on his forehead. She noticed the slight whispers of gray around his temples and thought how incredibly handsome and distinguished he looked. Instantaneously, the skinny, shy, young boy appeared before her and she felt a gush of affection as she looked at him and smiled warmly.

“What?” he asked.

“Where is everyone? And what in the hell time is it anyway? And why in the hell didn’t someone wake me up?” She asked loudly.

Jason laughed.

“Take a breath, girlie! It’s only eight o’clock. We took a vote and decided to let you sleep. So get over it. As for the other girls, believe it or not, they’ve all gone out.”

He continued, thoughtfully, recounting the hurried schedules of his welcomed guests.

“Apparently Sammy got busy on her Blackberry last night and booked a private tour of the Island with a place called, “Off the Beaten Path Tour Guides.” She took off around six o’clock this morning.”

“What was her hurry? I would’ve gone with her.” She said.

“I told her to wait awhile and we could all go, but for some reason she really wanted to do it on her own. She seemed intent on it, so who am I to argue?” He said.

“And the other girls?” She asked.

“Let’s see. Lindy grabbed some art supplies, you know, some paints and canvases and stuff that I happened to have and she jumped in my golf cart and took off down the beach. I gave her a thermos of coffee to take with her. That was around seven I think.

And Lyla? You won’t believe this, but Lyla was having a cup down by the water and my neighbor, Miguel, came over and invited her to go out boating with him.” He said.

“No kidding?” Julia remarked, somewhat surprised, but secretly tickled with Lyla for going.

“Yeah, she surprised me too. I would’ve thought she was too shy. But I’m glad she went. She’ll have a great time with him; he’s a decent guy, first-class. And his little boat is 92 feet of pure cruising excellence. Trust me; he’ll take good care of her.”

“He’d better; and good for her for going!” Julia said.

“Okay, who’s that leave? That leaves Sara. So, where’s Sara? She still sleeping?” She asked.

Jason smiled. The muscles in his face unclenched and went tranquil and his entire demeanor seemed to relax. He picked up a red canvas bag that he had packed earlier and shot her a very smug grin.

“Sorry, sweetie, you’re on your own for awhile.” He said, knowing full well he hadn’t answered her and looking quite pleased with himself.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to do. Me? I’ve got a date. Right about . . . now.” He said.

And off he went; without further adieu, out the over-sized glass doors and down to his own private strip of glorious golden sand.

“Hmmm. Well how do you like that?” Julia chuckled, more than a bit surprised. She felt a slight ding to her fragile female ego.

She walked over to the window and looked out at the ocean. It always overwhelmed her when she stood before it, but it had a way of magically luring her life back into perspective. She looked both ways and saw nothing but endless stretches of golden sandy beach.

Her eyes were drawn back to Jason as he walked away from his house and down towards the ocean. He grew smaller with every step of sand he pushed behind him. She looked ahead to perhaps anticipate his destination and realized that he was moving towards a woman. It was Sara. She was seated in a blue canvas chair right near the ocean’s shoreline. The other chair, presumably for Jason, was empty and waiting and there was a small heavy table anchored in the sand between them; Julia could see the steam rising from the two coffee mugs on the top and the insulated pitcher that had been placed in the sand beneath it.

She watched as Jason was approaching Sara and saw her looked up at him. Her dark hair was blowing in the breeze, as was her baby blue sundress. She was barefooted and her flat white sandals were neatly tucked beneath her chair. She was stunningly beautiful.

Jason spoke to her as he sat down, placed his canvas bag in his lap, and removed something from it. Suddenly Sara laughed and got to her feet. And then they were both laughing and she was hugging him.

Julia felt a pang of jealousy as she stood watching them.

They both sat down again. The ocean breeze looked fairly mild but played with Sara’s hair, gently flicking it back and forth in front of her. Jason leaned over and carefully brushed it from her face. For a moment he let his hand touch her cheek and briefly caressed it. She brought her hand up to his and held it there.

Julia drew a quick breath, startled and caught off guard by their intimate moment. She thought they looked like they belonged there together or had been there before in another time; an older time perhaps; one captured in an old Victorian photograph. She was struggling to not watch them and felt shamefully embarrassed and every bit the undetected voyeur.

“All dressed up and nowhere to go; story of my life.” She grumbled and poured another mug of steaming java. She admired its rich aroma as she returned to her lavish guest quarters.

Sara laughed. She was surprised and tickled with Jason.

“Chess?” She asked. “I can’t believe you remembered!” She said.

“How could I forget our good ‘ole Chess Club? If I’m not mistaken, you were pretty good.” He said grinning, knowing he hadn’t forgotten a single moment of those competitions and the many hours they’d spent together.

He thought of how often he had reflected on those days in the Chess Club. He had taken some of their strategies with him into the business world and used some of the identical maneuvers during his toughest negotiations. The game had served him well. No one knew how little he actually enjoyed it or how easily it all came to him.

Jason began to set up the board and studied her face as Sara was setting the pieces into position. This was his favorite part; watching her from across the table. He was seeing two images in her face now; that of the young girl he’d known so many years before and that of the beautiful woman who now sat before him. They were both one and the same.

“What a marvel.” He thought.

Feeling silly and light, he laughed out loud and sipped from his mug.

“What are you laughing at?” She asked.

“Just you.” He replied.

“What about me?”

“You cheat.” He said.

“What are you talking about? We haven’t even starting playing yet!” She laughed.

“Oh, you’re not fooling me. You distract me with that face of yours and those feminine wiles and the whole time you’re strategizing your next six moves! I know you!” He laughed.

Jason found himself relaxed, comfortable, and completely at ease with Sara that day. The shy, frightened boy of his youth was gone now and was replaced with the mature and confident man that he felt himself becoming. And he adored her for giving him that.

As they continued to play he thought that he just might come to love this game after all. And the thought made him smile again.

“What now?” She asked, seeing his amusement.

“Oh shut up. It’s your move.” He said.

Sara looked at him and grinned, “Checkmate.”

They were still out there several hours later when Julia returned to the kitchen. She could see their silhouettes contrasted against the blazing orange sunset. 

She stood at the window for only a moment. Although compelled to run down to the beach and join them, to share in their fun, and to shake things up, she knew better than to do that. She sensed that something really special was happening; something rare between two very dear, old friends. And she wouldn’t intrude. It wasn’t her place.

Earlier that day Lyla boarded Miguel’s magnificent, stately yacht. She hadn’t felt at all shy or insecure with him while they talked; it was very much to the contrary. She felt unusually comfortable and heard herself chatting effortlessly as if he were someone she had known for a lifetime but hadn’t seen in many years. She felt as though they had to hurry and “catch up” because there was too much lost time behind them and not enough quality time ahead.

Miguel stood at 6’2” tall and was a native Hawaiian. He was muscular and ruggedly attractive, deliciously dark-skinned and dark-haired, and had the most captivating large brown eyes.

“Truly a gift from the Gods” Lyla silently thought while admiring this figure of a man and reflecting on some of the Hawaiian traditions and beliefs that she’d read about.

She was on the aft deck, basking in the warmth of the sun, and leaned back, relaxed, and slouched in her deck chair. Her closed eyes suddenly saw black, as she felt Miguel in front of her, blocking her sun. She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked up at him. He handed her a very large, exquisite silvery and black bottle. Without taking it, she looked closely at its elegantly scripted label:

Dom Perignon White Gold Jeroboam 2005.

Miguel explained.

“Miss Lyla, this is a 3-liter bottle of a 2005 limited edition of Dom Perignon which was sold at that time to commemorate the New Year. It was priced at $40,000 and was considered the most expensive champagne in the world.”

“Wow, are you kidding me? That’s pretty impressive, Miguel, but I’m afraid to even touch it!” She said as she pulled her hands away.

“No, Miss Lyla, Mr. Jason gave me strict instructions that this should be opened today; your birthday.” Miguel said, grinning and bobbing his head up and down.

“What? How in the heck did he know? I haven’t celebrated a birthday . . . in years.” She said.

But she did not hear him reply. She was reminiscing now, back to her fourth grade birthday party. Jason had been invited, but due to some unfortunate confusion, he had shown up three hours too late. The party was over and all of the other kids had already gone home. She had caringly explained this to him as he stood on her front porch that day. She remembered how uneasy he looked and how he had shuffled his feet and tried to ignore his flushed red face. She invited him in but he had been so embarrassed that he timidly muttered something and clumsily ran off without giving her his gift. And he never did. She suspected that he was just too humiliated.

“Miss Lyla,” Again she heard Miguel speak.

“There is a note. Read the note Miss Lyla.” He said.

She removed the tiny, pink paper that was casually tied around the neck of the extravagant bottle.

It read: “Happy Birthday, Lyla.  I promise, I’ll never be late again”   Yours, Jason

She smiled as Miguel filled their glasses.

“Happy birthday, Miss Lyla” He said.

“Thank you Miguel. Let’s toast to us, and to my birthday, and to Jason for this fabulous champagne, and of course to the girls!”

Chapter One

Jason fidgeted with his sweaty hands. Again he wiped them on the sides of his trousers and tried to relax. He shook his head in disbelief at his unusual nervousness. He was talking to himself now. He did that often these days. His driver, Joe, heard him, checked the rearview mirror, and smirked ever so slightly. He understood his boss and that this seemed to help him to keep his thoughts in order. He had often heard him speaking from the back of the limo, or raging angrily in response to something on his Blackberry, and even quietly chanting, which he sometimes did in public when the press or his fans would rush at him.

“What man in his right mind would do this? Who would be crazy enough to play host to five women for ten days? What the hell was I thinking?” he said.

These weren’t just any women; these were his childhood dream girls. These were the girls from his past. The girls he longed to know, the ones he was too shy to speak to, the ones he never dared to hope for. And now, after thirty long years, they were coming here to Hawaii to stay with him.

“Jason, Jason, Jason, what have you gotten yourself into?” He shook his head again and grinned sheepishly.

They arrived at the airport and Joe pulled the black, double-stretch limousine around to the shortcut that led to Jason’s hangar. He had sent his private jet for the girls and it was just arriving. He tried to ignore the thumping in his heart, took a deep breath, and again chuckled.

He leaned back in his seat and watched the plane taxi in; thoughts racing through his mind. Images from his childhood, grade school, high school, his marriages, and love affairs were all flashing before his eyes like some kind of freaky slideshow. His breathing was shallow and he kept trying to slow it down, taking long deep breaths, but to no avail.

Joe knew all too well to remain silent.

“Geez, man, get a grip on yourself. Come on, they don’t know a thing. You’re the man. Just breathe.” He said.

The steps were lowered and the girls were deplaning. And for a moment he panicked.

“What if I don’t recognize them? What if they think I look old and awful? What if they see the small, skinny, kid from grade school?”

He looked down at his slim, sun-tanned, trembling hands.

“Okay, here goes.”

The plane’s door flung open.  His heart jumped and he felt a bolt of adrenaline shoot through his body. 

And suddenly, there she was.

Clad in skinny blue jeans which hugged every inch of her long sexy legs, and navy open-toed high heels, she was wearing a gauzy, powder blue, smock top and carrying an enormous over-the-shoulder bag. The sun was shining on her face and she looked as if private flying was as natural for her as driving to the local strip mall. Lindy; she was the creative one, the artsy, free-spirited, kind of wild one. She had a carefree way about her that made him want to grab onto her arm, close his eyes, and feel the wind on his face. She made him think of butterflies and golden fields of grass.

His mind flashed back to those grade school days and that young girl with the dark hair, the peachy clean skin, and the white knee socks. She was always racing past him with her small pack of giggling friends, her arms overflowing with canvases and art supplies. She had seemed so confident and sure of herself that he’d never had the nerve to muster up more than a meek, “Hi”.

He had always been in awe of Lindy. She was different than the other girls. She was an artist. She was born with a special gift that most people didn’t have and he had always been impressed with her artwork which adorned nearly every wall in the school. He didn’t know if all creative people were quirky, but there was something that was uniquely Lindy; she was like no one else he’d ever known. Her inventiveness fascinated him but scared him a little too. She was definitely a girl who thought “outside of the box” and he, unfortunately, had been securely and safely tucked deep down inside of it. She was a true mystery to him and he’d found that he could watch her do anything and be fascinated; the way she moved her body, or the sound of her voice, or the way her lip curled kind of funny when she smiled, or the way she tilted her head when she listened to someone speak. He had memorized everything about her, studying her as if she were a rare, exotic bird.

She was talking now to someone behind her, out of his view, and she was laughing. She carried that same air of freedom. He could see that instantly. In a second’s flash he was relieved that she hadn’t changed.

Lyla was the next face he saw. Again, his heart leaped. With a fair and tender smile she looked up from beneath her long, flowing, blond hair and quickly straightened her white shirt, whose blousy sleeves flapped ever so slightly in the Hawaiian breeze. As she stepped down the stairs, pink high heels peaked from beneath her dark blue jeans. He was flooded with entirely new memories now; of the quiet and gentle Lyla.

“What a girl she was. What a woman she is.” he said out loud.

He remembered back to those hallowed halls of school and to this girl, Lyla, who had first brought the word “lovely” into his naïve little world. He understood even way back then how special she was. He always thought her kind of mysterious in her own soft, fluffy, way. In the crowded hallways he could see above the heads of the other kids to that beautiful pink face of hers and that long blonde hair. She was tall for her age but never in an awkward way. No, she was more like a limber willow tree, graceful and swaying in the breeze. She was like the classical composition that he listened to in Music class. He never really understood it, but it sometimes made him want to cry. Years after high school, he had fantasized about her and had imagined how safe he would feel in her arms. He imagined the smell of the beach in her hair and the comfort and warmth he would feel being next to her. His thoughts went to her when the ocean was gentle and forgiving and didn’t make him feel so small and insignificant. He thought of her when he heard a light summer’s rain. Sometimes he had to force her from his mind.

Suddenly Sara came bounding out of the plane, interrupting his thoughts and spinning him into yet another flashback. Sara was the energetic, sharp one, in her looks as well as her brains.

“The whole package.” he heard himself saying.

Startled by the sound of his own voice, he looked up at Joe, and nodded once. Joe exited the limo and headed towards the plane.  

Jason looked back out of the darkly tinted window at Sara. She was a brown haired girl who was as pretty as she was smart. She had a combination of intelligence, kindness, and beauty, that had always made him feel somehow touched and terrified at the same time. Back then she was a part of everything that happened at school; socially and academically. If something was worthwhile, Sara was there, and an integral part of it. She belonged to every club in school and many of the boys joined those clubs just to be near her. He chuckled at that thought, knowing he had been one of them.

“I wonder if she ever knew that” his voice sounded like it belonged to someone else and echoed in his ears.

Her attractive, shapely legs were highlighted by her knee length, white denim skirt and her face glowed in contrast to her long sleeved, black, silk blouse. Again, he saw high heels. Hers were fiery red.

His mind jumped back to fifth grade History class and suddenly he was the awkward, shy kid who sat behind her. He loved the way her straight, shiny, hair hung over the back of her seat and the way she’d occasionally fling it over her shoulder without thinking. He recalled the one time she had worn a small, red barrette clipped in the back and how it had fallen out and onto the floor without her noticing. Distracted by it, he hadn’t heard a word of class and when the bell rang at hour’s end he had waited, trying to look nonchalant and preoccupied, until every last student had left the room. Then he did a double check over his shoulder, and as inconspicuously as possible, he picked it up. The moment he touched it, his eyes shot to the front of the room where his teacher had been quietly seated at her desk. She hadn’t looked up, but he thought he saw a trace of amusement at the corner of her mouth. Embarrassed, flushed, hands slippery with sweat, he tucked the barrette into his pocket and ran out of the room.

He admired everything about Sara. She could fit in with anyone. She could have flaunted her brains or her beauty, but that would have never occurred to her. That was just not her way. She would have been demeaned in her own eyes. That’s the kind of girl she was. He hoped that she hadn’t changed.  

“These girls,” he said, “Man.”

They hadn’t seemed to notice the limo yet. They were busying themselves with steps and carry-ons, and he was hoping to get a sneak peek at all of them and time to process and to gather himself a little, before they did. He just kept reminding himself to breathe.

The girls looked up, now noticing Joe as he approached them. Jason considered how professional Joe looked in the new Italian suit he had acquired for him just three days earlier. He was satisfied now with the purchase and realized its value as a status symbol; it reflected well on Jason and was clearly a sound investment. His thoughts were interrupted by his own heavy breathing and his deafening heartbeat.

“If they only knew, geez.” He whispered.

Jason was a four-time World Class Champion tennis star, successful Wall Street investor, and all around playboy and ladies man. He had his hands into everything and he always made money. He was well known world-wide and was especially well known around these Hawaiian Islands.

And he was a nervous wreck. He squirmed in his seat and wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers. He was starting to feel like that young boy again and was fighting it frantically.

Just when he thought he’d been detected, Sammy appeared from the plane. His spirits soared and he suddenly felt incredibly giddy. There she was, with that pure, porcelain skin, and short, blond hair that had always made him think of golden sandy beaches. She was stunning in a floral green wrap dress which was mid calf and flowing in the playful tropical breeze. Accessorized with a short linen jacket and tan heels, she had that “effortlessly pulled together” look. He wondered if she had a stylist, and then, bewildered with himself, quickly shook the thought away.

Sammy had always been and still was just too perfect and too pure for any one boy. In his eyes there was no one who was good enough for her. He remembered sneaking glances at her in class and while she was on the playground with her friends; the cute little pack of young girls who were endlessly passing notes, sharing secrets, and muffling their giggles. She was so pretty in her little cotton dresses and the tiny white sandals she always wore. And she was quietly smart. She was always ready when called on in class and in her calm way never seemed nervous or unsure of anything. She was everything a girl was supposed to be. She was soft, and pale, and somehow light and feathery. She was never too loud and never unkind. She was stunning even as a young child, yet unassuming in her beauty. She literally took his breath away.

He had often wondered how gracefully she had aged. And now he knew. She hadn’t aged at all. She was preserved in her perfectness.

“Hmmm. How unexpected” again he spoke aloud.

Jason watched anxiously as Joe greeted the girls. They were listening to him and looking over at the car. He knew there was no turning back now.

“That’s him? Do you believe it?” He heard Lindy exclaim loudly and watched her point towards the car.

“What a sweetheart! Some fancy guy now, ‘eh?” She said.

The girls were rushing towards the limo in a hurried, crazy kind of huddle, but he moved only enough to crank his neck as he tried to see past them. He was looking for the last one.

“Come on, where is she? Did she make it? Come on . . .”

He opened the door and stepped out. The light stabbed his eyes and he squinted as he adjusted to the sunshine.

He walked towards them knowing that he looked tall, slim, and fit, sun-kissed and handsome, and very successful. He had spent a small fortune to make certain he would.

Lindy reached him first. He found his arms full of her and his senses overcome with her pleasant flowery perfume. His eyes frantically searched over her shoulder. The other girls were hugging him now and everyone was talking and laughing and fussing all at the same time. He found himself overwhelmed and almost tearful, but pushed it down, swallowing dryly.

Finally, he saw her. It was Julia.

Immediately he laughed as she raced frantically from the plane and practically tumbled down the stairs, apparently she awoke and thought she’d been forgotten and left behind. His laughter transitioned into amusement and he smiled as he watched her.

Her thick, red hair flowed in curly waves and her white dress flapped in the wind. He admired those legs of hers; legs that went all the way up to her waist. He stirred inside, gulped again, and reached for a breath.

Julia was his girl next door. Their lockers were side-by-side and day after day, year after year, he had watched her come and go; but she hardly seemed to notice him. She was shy; he knew that, he had seen her blush many times in class and when she was teased by the other boys. But she did brave things.

His mind once again took him back in time to recess and the playground. The kids were cruelly laughing and pointing at a new girl whose wrinkled, cotton dress and messy, knotted hair announced her recent arrival and guaranteed her a place outside of the popular circles. They were all chatting it up at her expense. He watched as Julia unceremoniously walked over to her, cupped her hand, and whispered into the girl’s ear. The new girl looked down and smiled and they turned away and went off together arm-in-arm. He later watched the two of them as they played jacks in a quiet corner of the yard; the new girl, in her old tattered dress and Julia in her crisp, neat shorts and clean white tee. He was proud of her that day and thought her generous of heart.

He remembered another time when a handful of girls were seated in a circle on the ground giggling and gossiping about an absent friend. He stood outside on the fringes, unnoticed, watching and listening. A mean thing was said by one of them. Then someone agreed and added something. And then another joined in. Julia sat quietly listening.

“What do you think of her Julia?” Someone asked and all eyes moved to her.

“I like her a lot. She’s always been really nice to me. And I think she’s really pretty too. Don’t you? Don’t you think she’s really pretty?” She said as she smiled brightly.

There was no attitude there or ignorance either, she was just a young kid, speaking her mind, dismissing the meanness, and swimming upstream in her own shy, courageous way. 

But she was also the one he thought of when something made him laugh; because beneath all of that shy righteousness, the girl had a sense of humor. She had no grace, but she had a sense of humor; and occasionally, when least expected, and to the great delight of anyone nearby, it would bubble right up and out of her.

She hadn’t seen him yet but was speaking with Lyla and laughing. He loved the way she tilted her head back and looked up towards the sky when she laughed, and how sometimes, she laughed just a bit too loudly. And no matter where she was or what she was doing, she seemed unaware how people noticed her.

Her red hair was flying around in the wind and she struggled to keep it from her eyes as she wrestled with her overstuffed bag. She wore an ethereal dress of layers and layers of white chiffon ruffles and a pair of white high heeled strappy sandals. The wind joyfully toyed with her hem and gusted up, momentarily, revealing her thigh. She instinctively grabbed it and pulled it down.

“Oh man” he groaned.

“What?” he vaguely heard Sara ask.

He had to get a grip on himself.

Just then Julia’s eyes latched onto his and seemed to delight in the sight of him. Her smile was like a gift. And he felt an odd sort of thankfulness. She did a little dance, a kooky little, impromptu jig with her feet and laughed and laughed.

“Jason! Look at you! Look at your gorgeous self!” She said.

And then, she walked right up to him, as if just seeing him yesterday at the local Kroger’s, removed her dark sunglasses, took his face in her hands, and kissed him fully and passionately on his mouth. He smelled the fruitiness of her hair and tasted the smoky, sweetness of Amoretto on her lips, as her body pressed up against his. She held him closely.

He stirred deep down in the bowels of his manhood.

“Oh Lord, here she goes!” He heard Sara say.

“She said she was going to do that! I really didn’t think she would!” Lyla said, giggling from afar.

“Oh, I knew she would!” Lindy laughed.

For that moment everything seemed surreal to him. And everyone else faded away into the background. All of the sounds of the airport and the girls talking and laughing, all kind of quirked, then morphed, like in the movies. For that moment it was just the two of them.

Slowly, she pulled her lips from his. And still holding him tightly, she stared straight into his soul. He saw her eyes again after a lifetime; those soulful, sad, brown eyes of hers; they had been in his heart, lying dormant, all of this time.

Abruptly, she pulled away. Her eyes brimmed with tears, she smiled warmly, and her laugh stilled itself. She had this Zen thing that would sometimes find her. And it did.

“Jason. It’s so good to see your face.” She whispered to him.

He felt her touch something secret and private in his heart that she didn’t have permission to touch, and for just a second he resented her.

He quickly gathered himself, but before he could speak, she scooped up her bag once again and was off, heading towards the car, kind of gliding more than walking, almost dancing, as if to the sound of some magical tune that no one else could hear.

“OMG! It’s going to be an interesting vaca!” he heard Sammy singing joyfully.

“Interrrrrreeeeeesting vaaaaacaaaa!”

Suddenly, Jason found himself in a whirl of laughter, and hurriedness, and confusion. Everyone was talking at once and his head was spinning and his thoughts were overlapping and before he knew it, he wasn’t nervous at all but rejoicing in the moment.

Everyone was at the vehicle now, Joe stood at the trunk tending to all the baggage, the girls were continuing to fuss, and chat, and were still laughing and hugging all over Jason. He silently noted how each woman wore her own special style, and her own smile and confidence, and even fragrance, and how each one had felt so differently pressed up against him. How extremely pleasurable he found it all. He hoped he could contain his excitement.

Jason glanced over at Joe who closed the trunk and walked over and opened the passenger door. One by one he assisted the girls until the last had disappeared into the limo. Then he turned to Jason.

“All set boss?” he asked.

Jason nodded once and climbed inside.