Page 4 of Unconventionally, Elle
Sarah:Ha, you knew my next question.
Me:When are you thinking of booking this trip, Rach?
All of the work I had to do was streaming across my mind, but then, I also thought of how nice guac on a beach would be with my two best friends. I hadn't been on a real vacation in forever, and I'd been burning myself out with the Calloway account. This could be a nice break once the account closed and I could put it behind me.
Rach:The special pricing expires at the end of May, so I was thinking the week of May 5! I know it's a short window, but we have to book and get the ball rolling. You guys in?
My heart stopped. Shit, the Calloway account.
2
Twelve years ago
The humidity was relentless. My hair stuck to my face every time I moved, and my dress suctioned to me like skin. Our beers were covered in condensation, and the light buzz of the alcohol felt like a reprieve from reality. We were at a street concert in the middle of downtown Nashville--no complaining allowed, no matter how uncomfortable it was outside. The crowd was thick, bodies brushed bodies, and the music rolled through us like a drug. I couldn't get enough, and I moved and swayed without a second thought.
I was singing my heart out and dancing with my summer roommate when I accidentally bumped into something solid and warm. I swung around with a broad smile and carefree energy. My heart stuttered when I came face-to-face with a very pretty man's solid chest.
I stopped dancing and stepped back, caught off guard by the beauty before me. He was tall and athletic, wearing a white T-shirt that hugged his toned biceps and shoulders. The humidity wasn't sparing him either. My eyes trailed upward and took in his scruff along his lower jaw, sly grin, and amber-honey eyes.I had no idea that rich golden eyes like his existed until that moment, and his were peering down at me. Me, with the sweaty forehead, the wild wavy hair, and the audacity to bump into him.
"I'm so, so sorry! I didn't realize you were so close behind me." I spoke so quickly that his eyes widened in surprise. "Ah, oh my God, this is so embarrassing!" I clasped my hands to my cheeks and felt my face grow warmer.
"You're fine, you don't need to apologize. I think I bumped into you." His voice was silky smooth, and his eyes held me, warm and curious. Goose bumps rippled along my arms.Oh my God, his voice, I thought. Where was he from? What was his name? I felt my cheeks burn when he smiled with the most perfectly crooked grin.
"Sorry," I barely uttered. "I mean, thanks. I mean..."
He extended his hand to me. "Wanna dance, mystery girl?" A warm feeling radiated through my entire body as his voice overwhelmed me.
I couldn't resist him. I cautiously placed my hand in his, and he slowly pulled me into his warm, strong body. I attempted to concentrate on anything besides what was underneath my fingertips, underneath his light, thin shirt.
Our eyes held each other as the world fell away. It was just us. This mystery man couldn't be real. His wispy, sun-kissed brown hair fluttered across his glistening forehead every time I dipped. Hints of sandalwood and spice surrounded me with every twirl.
We danced as the band's music floated around us. We danced under the Nashville lights with hundreds of strangers. We danced as if no one was watching the silent conversation between our hearts. We danced, lost in the bliss of our own world.
As I lay in bed later, snug beneath my quilted blanket, I found myself replaying the events of the night in my mind. Itdawned on me as my eyelids grew heavier that the mystery man who'd danced with me under the Nashville stars had never once asked me for my name.
3
Now
I rolled over in my king-size bed, opened my eyes, and realized I wasn't in New Orleans anymore. A bird was standing on my porch staring at me, and the waves were thrashing against the shore. My body was completely calm, and for the first time in ages, I felt refreshed.
Puerto Vallarta.
While vacation had technically started, I still tried to work as much as I could to stay ahead. My cell service was extremely unreliable, and the Wi-Fi was painstakingly slow. I was having minor panic attacks every five minutes when my emails failed to load. I kept telling myself it was only one week. Just one week away from the office; it wasn't that big of a deal. I trusted Anna, and she was more than capable of handling things for me.
Mr. Landry was less than pleased about my spontaneous vacation. He was aware that I hadn't taken a vacation in the past decade, even after my grandmother's death. During our conversation about this vacation, he'd asked me one last time if I was sure about leaving the office for a week. When I said yes, when I told him the Calloway account was all but ours and Annawould handle any last-minute changes, he shook his head and looked at me like I'd given him the wrong answer. I felt a shift in the room, like something was wrong, but I couldn't quite place it. He hadn't mentioned the vacation again.
I rolled onto my back and shut my eyes. While I was enjoying the smell of the salty air, I randomly heard someone screaming.
"Yaaas! Girls' Trip 2022! Get up, bitch, no one is on the beach yet, and I saved us some spots!"
Sarah was standing on my porch with her hip out, dressed in her neon-pink mom-kini with a mimosa and flamingo sunglasses. It was six a.m., and the sun was just coming up from behind some wispy clouds to say good morning.
I stared at her with crust still in the corners of my eyes and what felt like a knife lodged in my temple.
"A mimosa already, Sarah? Can't we start with a coffee?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and pulling the covers back over my head.
I couldn't believe Sarah had a mimosa in her hand this early and had usedbitchin a sentence. Mom Sarah would never drink so early or in front of her kids. College Sarah believed it was never too early for a mimosa.
