Page 48 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“You do?”
“Sure. I’d like to spend my honeymoon travelling around Italy, or France, or both.”
“It would be amazing. My boss got married in Barcelona, and it was so beautiful. The pictures looked incredible.” I scooped up the last section of caramelised goodness on my side of the bowl. The crackle of hard sugar against my teeth left me wanting more.
“Soundsbellissimo.” Julia grinned.
“Is that Spanish?”
“It’s Italian actually.” Julia laughed.
“Are you ready for part two of the date?” Julia asked.
“Is this where the flip-flops come in?”
“They’re just precautionary.”
Julia led the way, and I eagerly followed.
The conversation continued to flow naturally as she led me down to the beach. We spoke in depth about our respective upbringings. They were quite opposite; she had the two-parent household suburban dream, and I had a badass single mum and microwave meals, but I wouldn’t change it.
We spoke about our favourite subjects at school, pets we had growing up, family members and their quirks, the most notable being her Aunt Evelyn, who was so far gone on the homophobic scale shedidn’t understand the need for Gay Pride. She would also not be invited to the future wedding Julia had already referenced on two occasions.
I took off my sandals when we reached the beach. There was no better feeling than the softness of my feet sinking into the sand. The only light illuminating the beach came from the restaurant. It was empty now, as the waiters cleared the last of the tables.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“I know it’s dark, but there’s something so soothing about the sound of the sea at night,” Julia said.
“The smell as well.” I inhaled the fresh scent of salt and seaweed.
“I come down here every night. It’s the perfect star gazing spot. Here, I want to show you something.” Julia led the way.
We traipsed through the sand, past an abundance of daybeds, hammocks, and several of the circular nests that each covered a set of sun loungers. The beach was filled with tropical greenery, a lot of it untamed, which allowed the area to have a more natural feel.
Julia’s arm brushed against mine. She lifted her hand to navigate my forearm with her fingers. “Over there,” she whispered softly.
It looked like a private bar area. We stepped up onto the grey stone paving slabs that made up the floor. The washed stone continued up on the face of the bar area and the four pillars at either side. The bar top consisted of a thick wooden slab. It couldn’t have had anything more than a natural matte stain because it almost looked untreated. The back wall of the bar had a light and airy aesthetic style. The mix of open and closed shelving with wooden accents added an earthy touch. It was the type of bar I would expect to find in Kim Kardashian’s house.
There were no bar stools, only four swings with chunky wooden seats suspended from the ceiling by thick rope.
“This is unbelievable.” The swings were low enough that I didn’t have to risk embarrassing myself to get on.
“What is this place?” I asked. I could see Julia more clearly as she took the swing to my left. The lighting from the bar accentuated her cheekbones in a way that no highlighter could ever.
“It’s a private bar area. People hire it out for weddings and events, but it isn’t open to hotel guests, so a lot of the time it just sits empty.” She pushed herself off with her feet, just a little, so I joined her.
“I didn’t see this in any of the pictures, and I checked all of the five thousand Tripadvisor reviews.”
We started swinging back and forth. I slowed my movement to match Julia’s. We were completely in sync.
“You checked almost all of the reviews?” Julia laughed.
“Well, yeah, I didn’t manage to get down to the last few hundred.”
If I was for some reason uncontactable, there was a high possibility I could be found one thousand reviews deep with a bar of chocolate and a glass of wine. It required some imagination, but it could be just as entertaining as Netflix.
“So, you’re a review kind of girl?”
