A Mediterranean Romance: The Capa Royals

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Chapter One

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding you doof!”

Marvin sat in a chair on the other side of our extravagant wedding suite and buried his face in his hands.
“I’m not sure that matters now,” he answered, focusing his eyes on the carpet.

I strode across the room and twirled to show him how lovely I looked. For the first time in my life, I felt beautiful. With my big almond shaped eyes, high cheekbones, milky caramel complexion, and heart-shaped face, I was what most people considered attractive, not pretty. Or as Marvin would say, the prettiest girl in the world to him. We were supposed to get married at Chalet Terrace, the same place my parents were married forty years ago to the very day. Thank heavens I was only wearing a petticoat and not my wedding gown as I stopped before the vanity to fix errant strands of my perfectly coiffed hair. Wedding dress or not, it was still a jinx to see each other before exchanging vows.

“What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t matter now?’ Will you get out of here already? I have to finish my makeup, and the girls will be back in a few minutes to help me into my dress. You’re not even wearing your suit for goodness sake. You need to get dressed.”

I was standing before him then, with both of my hands cupping his quivering cheeks. It was the most exciting day of our lives and Marvin was on the brink of a pre-wedding breakdown. His body shook and his lips were chalk-white, like he had just seen a ghost.

“I don’t think you understand, honey…”

He finally met my inquisitive gaze, his dark handsomely sculpted face contorted into a combined look of anguish and guilt. He tugged my wrist and pulled me down to eye-level so that I was resting on my knee before him. For a moment I was more concerned about sullying the hem of my underskirt, than what he was about to tell me. He kissed me then gently stroked the back of my hair, “I can’t do this.”
“You can’t do what?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, but… I can’t marry you, Selena. I’ve been talking to Candace. She wants to get back together.”
I felt like I had been kicked by a horse. The hell was going on here?

“And you tell me this an hour before we’re supposed to walk down the aisle? How long has this been going on?”
“It started a week ago. She heard I was getting married and realized how much she missed me, how much she needed me.”
“And she just figured this out three years after you broke it off with her?”
“—She broke it off with me.”
“Is this your idea of a joke?”
“Of course not.”
Despite his words, there wasn’t a look of remorse on his face. I stood, numbly smoothing the wrinkles out of my crinoline underskirt, trying not to crumble as I floated back to the vanity. I then gazed over my shoulder at Marvin through our reflections in the mirror.
“So the past two and a half years meant absolutely nothing to you?”
“They meant everything to me,” he pleaded.
“Then why are you doing this?” I bawled. Tears plunged from the corner of my eyes, leaving a trail of mascara running down my cheeks. My shoulders collapsed as I heaved up and down in a succession of full-on sobs.
“How—could—(sob!)—you do this to me?” I wailed.
“I wouldn’t think of hurting you like this unless it was absolutely unavoidable. I love you… I’m just not in love with you.”
He stood then, clenching his jaw.
“I’m sorry, Selena, but it’s just the way it has to be.”
My hands shook. I grabbed a hair brush and tried to brush my hair back in place.
“What am I supposed to tell people? That you walked out on me? Left me standing at the altar?”
“We never made it to the altar.”
“Thanks to you!”
“Would you rather I had waited until after we were married? Until I had an affair or did something awful?”
“This isn’t awful?”
“For both of us, yes. You were too good for me, Selena. I don’t deserve you…”
“Damned right you don’t.”
I pulled my shoulders up, grabbed a handkerchief, and wiped my tear-stained face.
“You may have broken my heart, but you did not break me,” I declared, pushing him aside.
Marvin reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slip of paper.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Tickets to Capa Isles, for what would have been our honeymoon. You take them.”
“Thanks but no thanks.”
I pushed him aside, damn near shoving him back into his chair as I strode to the closet, grabbed my suitcase, and stuffed my shoes, clothes and jewelry inside of it…everything except my $7,000, pearl white, crystal embroidered Vera Wang wedding gown. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I could leave it for hotel staff to dispose of, take it with me, toss it in the garbage or set it on fire. At the last second, I grabbed it, and stuffed it into one of my bags.
“Consider it a gift,” he said, forcing the tickets into my luggage. “You deserve it.”
I mentally sneered at Marvin’s childish attempt to appease me.
“If it helps, I can tell everyone you left me,” he offered.
I looked over my shoulder as I slid into a pair of jeans, and scoffed.
“So I can look like an asshole? I don’t think so. Otherwise, tell them whatever you want, I don’t care.”
“It wasn’t easy, coming here to do this. I wanted to run, but decided the decent thing to do is tell you to your face. I didn’t expect you to be so immature about it. I was hoping we could handle the situation like adults.”
“You actually have the balls to call me immature? You’re scared…you were always scared to stand up and be a man. I should have known you wouldn’t follow through.”
Fully dressed in a t-shirt, a pair of old jeans and flip flops, exactly as I arrived to the bridal suite the night before, I hauled my suitcases to the door.
“I’m not the one running away. Relationships fall apart, Selena. You don’t even have the decency to tell our family and friends what happened, do you?”
“That you dumped me an hour before the wedding? I think they’ll understand if I don’t. Have a nice life.”
And with that, I marched out, closing the door behind me.

Chapter Two

The wind swept my hair into a state as I snuck through the back exit of the hotel to the busy sidewalk, sporting a pair of dark shades. The main entrance of the hotel was swarming with family, friends, and mutual acquaintances in town for the wedding. Marvin could deal with the fallout. He was the one who created the mess. It was a selfish choice, but under the circumstances who could blame me? I planned to send cards and thank you letters as soon as I was settled– anywhere but home. No phone calls, conversations, explanations, just a quick text to my parents to let them know where I was going. I just wanted to get away from Marvin, the prying eyes, the sympathetic stares, and the whispers sure to follow me the moment news of our canceled nuptials reached our family and friends.

Outside of the hotel, I raced to the curb and hailed a cab. Thankfully, the sidewalk was crowded so no one noticed me.
“Take me to the airport, please.”
The bearded, middle-aged Sikh driver peered at me through the rear-view mirror.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, in a heavily accented voice.
“Everything is fine, thank you.”

I was a mess with dry mascara running down my cheeks beneath a big dark smudge that appeared to give me a black eye. I pulled a compact mirror out of my purse and did what I could to repair the tear-stained damage to my face. Just because I felt like a disaster didn’t mean I had to look like one. The forty-five minute ride to the airport gave me enough time to fix myself up. I might have finished sooner were it not for all the bumps in the road. Nevertheless, I was much improved, given the circumstances.

After our arrival at the airport, the kindly cabbie grabbed my luggage and hurled it onto a cart. I tipped him, and calmly walked through the airport pushing my belongings. Seeing as though this was my lucky day, I barely managed to get through airport security. I forgot to unwrap a wedding gift from my father and was pulled out of line for inspection.

The prickly security agent frowned her pudgy face. She was so small I could whistle and knock her over, but she had an attitude that was larger than the both of us. The woman pursed her lips and gestured for me to empty my carry-on bag.

“You know you’re not supposed to bring a wrapped package through a security checkpoint. We need to inspect the contents.”
“I’m so sorry,” I stammered, “It was a wedding present, I forgot it was in my bag.”
The day just kept getting better and better!
The security officer eyed my ring-less fingers.
“Don’t people usually give gifts after the wedding?”
“I was supposed to get married this morning but my fiancé dumped me an hour before the wedding. So here I am, off to my honeymoon alone.”
“That’s terrible,” the woman said, shaking her head sympathetically.
“Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson. It’ll never happen to me again. As far as I’m concerned, men are dirtbags who will smile in your face while screwing another woman behind your back. For the first time in my life, no strings attached fun!”
The woman’s eyes softened.
“They’re not all like that, honey…you just have to find the right one.”
“Ah-huh, that’s what they all say…”
I emptied my bag onto the table, scattering a tube of lipstick, tablet, a pair of underwear, jewelry, a book to read on flight, a hair dryer, bathing suit, tiara, wedding album, and a garter belt. As I proceeded to unwrap the dreaded wedding gift, the security officer grimaced, waving a hand.
“Don’t worry about the package ma’am. Have a safe trip.”
“Thank you so much. I swear, I’m really not a terrorist.”
“Please go.”
I quickly shoved the contents of my carry-on back inside the bag and scrambled out of the room. My flight wasn’t scheduled to leave for another 12 hours, long after what would have been our wedding reception, so I headed to the airline reservation desk to change my flight and hoped the clerk would be willing to adjust my departure without additional costs. I needed to get as far away as I possibly could, before the anger really settled in. Who in the hell was he to string me along for three damned years, knowing he wasn’t over his ex? If he knew he was breaking up with me a week before the wedding, why didn’t he do something about it then!

I saved only a small amount of money for the trip to Capa Isles, just enough to enjoy a few meals and buy a couple of souvenirs. I lived on a modest salary, working as a city librarian. Marvin was the breadwinner in our relationship and was easily able to cover the costs, including hotel fees. In the end, I suppose he wasn’t interested in marrying a librarian, especially when he had the option of sleeping with a dancer for the Charlotte Hornets.

It was three years ago, when a sweaty, insecure, three hundred and fifty pound man wobbled onto my floor at the city library in search of a diet book. I suggested his local weight watchers, but the successful businessman, ashamed of his weight, and the butt of many jokes at the office, wanted to lose weight discreetly. We discussed different types of diets and the many health books on our shelves that could help him into the wee hours of the night…a conversation that eventually ended with an offer to help him lose weight. In the end, he decided the Atkins diet would be the best option because he could still eat meat. For a man like Marvin, carbohydrates were easier to part with. At the end of my shift, just as the library was closing, Marvin walked me to my car, where he gently touched my hand and kissed me on the cheek. A few days later I invited him for a work out at the gym. Eighteen months later, and one hundred and eighty pounds lighter, we were in love.

“Hi, I’m Selena Capshaw. I need to change my ticket to an earlier flight.”
“Is it economy, special, or business class?”
“Business class.”
I gave her the ticket. The chipper squinty-eyed blonde typed something into her computer then made a face.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but your ticket is non-refundable, non-transferable, and changes must be made twenty-four hours before your flight.”
“That can’t be right, these are first-class tickets.”
“Even if I made an exception for you, first-class is full.”
“What about coach?”
“Economy is also full. I’m sorry…”
“Any other flight going to Capa Isles this afternoon? I’m desperate—I—I need to get out of here,” I stammered.
One of my reasons for wanting to get away so desperately was fear that Marvin would come crawling back, begging my forgiveness. Another part of me was even more afraid that he wouldn’t.
As I stood in line debating my situation with the clerk, a dark-haired man with handsome Mediterranean features glared at me from afar. I tried to ignore the stranger’s mesmerizing gaze, but his piercing dark eyes drew me in.
“Unfortunately, the next flight to Capa is twelve hours from now,” the clerk said.
I was grateful for the interruption. I looked away from the nosy stranger.
“If it helps, there’s a hotel at the airport. We have a shuttle that drives by every half-hour that could pick you up.”
“I’ll give it some thought, thank you.”
I walked back to the waiting area and sat down with a disappointed slump. I couldn’t get to Capa yet, but I for damned sure, wasn’t going back home. I needed space and time to reflect. Was I really that oblivious to Marvin’s affair? Was I so engrossed in planning the wedding that I ignored the signs?
I fished around my bag for my phone and started emailing family members and friends.
A few minutes later I looked up to find the seductive Mediterranean stranger with the fiery dark eyes, standing before me.
“Please forgive the intrusion…I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
From across the room it’s called eavesdropping. He spoke in a thick accented voice.
I sucked my teeth. “Yeah, so?”
“I can help you.”
“Unless you have a ticket to Capa, that won’t be possible.”
“Guess you are out of luck.”
“Story of my life.”
“What about a private jet?”
He sounded like Ricardo Montalbón from Fantasy Island.
“If I had a private plane I wouldn’t be sitting here.”
“What if I were willing to accommodate you?”
“Then I’m either really lucky or you’re full of crap. I’m leaning towards the latter.”
He wore his dark, shiny hair slicked to the back, a tailored navy blue suit, and leather shoes that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. He was not only drop-dead gorgeous, but had the most kissable lips I had ever seen. My heart palpitated. He stuck his hand out.
“My name is Andrasi.”
I shook his hand.
“Selena Capshaw.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Selena…see that gentleman near the exit in the blue suit and cap? That’s Harold, my chauffeur. If you decide to fly Air Andrasi,” he smiled, “Harold will take you to my plane. We depart in an hour.”
“No offense, Andrasi, but if you have a private jet, what are you doing here?”
“Waiting for my sister, Agnes. We will take the jet home to Capa when she arrives. In the meantime, Harold can drive us to my plane.”
“Thank you, Andrasi. I deeply appreciate your help. Speaking of family, I should probably call my parents and tell them where I’m going.”
Andrasi gave me a startled look. “Excuse me—but, are you of age?”
“Surely I don’t look that young.”
“You mentioned talking to your parents.”
“You didn’t think I’d go trotting across the world on a stranger’s airplane without telling someone, did you?”
“That sounds like a very good plan.” Andrasi extended an elbow. I linked my arm through his as the chauffeur grabbed my luggage.
“You seem like a very smart, very cautious woman. Your parents must be proud of you.”
“I generally don’t need their permission to travel. I just feel letting them know where I’m going is the responsible thing to do.”
“Yes—it’s not required, yet you do it anyway. Women aren’t like that anymore. They long for independence.”
“What’s wrong with independence?”
“Nothing at all. I admire an independent woman. I longed for it myself when I was your age.”
“Jeez—you make yourself sound so old. You don’t look a day over thirty.”
“And yet, I feel well beyond my years.”
“You do have a world-weary look deep inside of your eyes,” I smiled. “If you don’t mind my asking?”
“Thirty-six,” he smiled. “You?”
“Twenty-eight. I don’t usually divulge my age or much of anything else to strangers, but since you were so open with me about yours, I’d feel bad if I didn’t tell you.”
Harold shuffled ahead with the luggage and carried it outside to a waiting car. He then held the door open for us and waited. The two of us climbed into the limo while he loaded my bags into the trunk.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll give my parents a ring now,” I said, once firmly situated in Andrasi’s car.
“I’ll wait outside,” he answered.
I called mother and told her where I was going and what I knew about Andrasi, which was just enough to track him down if something happened.
“I’m so sorry about the wedding, honey,” mother said. “I can’t believe Marvin would do this to you. Your dad and I adored him, but now, not so much after hurting our only daughter. How could a day so wonderful for me and your father turn out to be so unlucky for you?”
“Bad luck? After the way he treated me, I dodged a bullet.”
“That’s my girl, always seeing the positive.”
“I apologize for not talking to you and dad in person. I’m just hurt…and embarrassed.”
“Don’t worry about the rest of us. We’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Mom. See you in a few weeks. We’ll have dinner when I’m back in town.”
“You bet,” she answered, in that confident voice of hers.

I tapped on the window, signaling to Andrasi that I was ready to go. He poked his head into the car and my stomach flipped. In that short amount of time, I’d forgotten how gorgeous he was.
“Done?”
“Yes, thank you,” I answered, swiftly looking away.
He smiled, as if reading my thoughts, then climbed in. He was probably used to women fawning over him.

We drove to the private airport runway in silence, the both of us checking our smart phones when Andrasi suddenly tapped the glass partition separating us from the driver.
“My sister has arrived. Please get our guest aboard, then return to the airport terminal to retrieve my sister,” he said to the driver.
“Yes, boss,” Harold answered.

He parked the limo next to a Bombardier BD-700 Global Express, a renowned luxury plane for jet-setting billionaires. Harold hopped out of the car, opened the door, and escorted us to a pair of comely twenty-something year old flight attendants who then led us to the plane. The interior, which had been sectioned off into separate cabins, was even more opulent than the sleek silver exterior.

The first cabin was all white, with a white leather and gold trimmed sofa, white leather recliners for the regular seating areas, a large movie screen, thick white carpeting, a well stocked bar, and white marble dining tables. The second cabin was a spacious all white bedroom, the next bedroom featured a round bed covered in a lavish all white, fox-fur blanket (faux I hoped), like something out of a James Bond movie. The fourth cabin was a full-sized kitchen with a chef. The fifth cabin was an office with tinted glass floors with a view of the main bedroom. Andrasi’s plane was fit for a king.

“Wow, these are some digs,” I said.
“If you’re going to travel across the world, might as well do it in style.”
“And you’ve got plenty of it.”
At this, he smiled.
Andrasi escorted me to the sofa and gestured for me to sit down.
“And what part of the world are we traveling from?” I asked.
He smiled. “From Capa.”
“Ah, a native… so, are you in town for business or pleasure?”
“A little of both,” he smiled, offering a devious grin. “I’m here to see an investor friend about some investments he wanted to tell me about.
“Oh,” was all I said.
I accepted a Cosmopolitan from a bubbly dark-haired flight attendant.
“Investing in anything special?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he answered. “The person I was supposed to meet never showed up. He sent me a text, however,” Andrasi shrugged his muscular shoulders.
“How rude, I’m sorry.”
He waved a hand.
“Well, I suspect something went wrong. The flight was a surprise for his wife. They were to vacation in Capa.”
The attendant poured Chardonnay into Andrasi’s glass.
“She would have been pleased.”
“And you?”
“It’s lovely, very comfortable.”
The dark-haired flight attendant appeared again.
“Sir, your sister is here.”
“Terrific, thank you Lori,” then looking at me, “If you’ll excuse me…”

Andrasi left, moving from the main cabin to the exit. As I watched his departing figure I wondered, “Who is he?” Was this his plane or was he the high-ranking employee of someone extremely powerful? Powerful men don’t fly to foreign countries for the sole purpose of collecting an investor, let alone do they offer rides to random women at the airport along the way. Andrasi was the point man of someone very important.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the distant sound of my cell phone ringing. I looked at the caller I.D. It was my best friend and maid-of-honor, Tiffany. I figured I had better answer her call before takeoff.

“Girl! You’re going to Capa by yourself? All that paradise and no honeymoon…at least you get to ride on a private plane. Is he cute?”
“Gorgeous, actually.”
“He sounds like he’s interested in you.”
“Doesn’t matter, because I’m not interested in him. The only thing I’m interested in is having some fun…something I’ve denied myself for too long. The plane is nice, I just wish you were here. Takeoff is in a few minutes, his sister just arrived,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to wish, I’ll go to Capa with you!”
“Tiffany, please… you don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine.”
“Glad for ya, but we can be fine together. I could use a vacation and some time with my best friend. You shouldn’t be alone on your honeymoon.”
“It’s not a honeymoon anymore. What about work?”
“I’m part-time, sweetie.”
“I would leave the tickets with Harold but Marvin’s tickets are non-transferable.”
“That’s okay, I’ll buy my own.”
“On a part-time salary?”
“I have my ways.”
“Ways” meant, she’d gotten money from one of her wealthy boyfriends.
“Fine. I’m staying at the Grand Agnes Hotel on Capa Bay.”
“Alright Boo, I’ll start packing. Maybe I’ll meet some cute guys out there,” she giggled.
By cute she meant, wealthy. To Tiffany, there was no one uglier than a man with a low balance in his bank account.

However, knowing Tiffany would be there immediately put my mind at ease. She was trouble, big trouble…which was exactly what I needed. We met four years ago when I hired her as a library assistant for my floor at the city library. She was fresh out of college, where she majored in fashion design. Day after day, as we labeled and restocked books, I’d listen to stories about her exploits and rendezvous with wealthy men. She drove an expensive car, lived in a lavish uptown apartment, and wore designer clothes on a salary barely above minimum wage. She didn’t need her job at the library. She worked there because it gave her something to do. Tiffany was the girl I wanted to be. The girl who had fun. The girl who never got her heart broken.

When Andrasi returned twenty minutes later, the flight had already taken off. I expected to meet his sister, but she was tired, and had already retreated to one of the cabins to rest. I finished my Cosmopolitan and moved from the table to a white leather recliner by the window. He sat in an adjacent chair, and gazed out at the clouds billowing around the plane.
“Agnes sends her apologies. She was tired and needed to rest.”
“Your sister doesn’t know me from a can of paint, so no worries.”
“In Capa, it is considered rude not to greet our guests.”
“The more you talk about your country, the more I think I’ll like it.”
“I certainly hope so.”
He sat back, fingers intertwined, his eyes beaming with pride.
“You are so proud of your country… aren’t you? We don’t see that very often where I’m from. People complain when we have so much to be thankful for. It’s refreshing to meet someone who truly appreciates where he’s from.”
“We take great pride in our nation.”
“What do you do for a living?” I asked.
“Tourism policy, trade, investments and many other things that would bore you if I went into detail.”
“The tourism part sounds like fun, and definitely explains this tricked out plane. So, as the official tourism specialist, what do you recommend I do for fun when I get to Capa?”
“I can think of a few things,” Andrasi answered, smiling devilishly.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh whatever! Seriously, I’m going on this trip alone, however unexpectedly, and I need things to do!”
“Even I have to admit that going alone isn’t as much fun. May I ask what happened?”
“I’d rather not talk about that,” I answered, clamping my lips together. I turned and gazed out the window at the cloudy blue sky.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He smiled, as if it would melt the glacier forming between us.
“I would start with sightseeing. We have fantastic olive orchards and wine vineyards for tourists to explore. Caves, beaches, and one of the tallest waterfalls in the world. There are always lavish parties to attend, if you acquire an invitation. There are also plenty of wonderful places to shop, in anticipation.”
I looked up and grinned. “The only thing I can afford to do is window shop.”
“Our stores are not so expensive so I’m certain something can be arranged.”
“That won’t be necessary. I have plenty of new dresses to wear.”
“Ah, but how are we going to boost the economy if tourists don’t shop or spend money?”
“Good point. Fine…I promise to spend money while visiting Capa. Happy now?” I raised my hands in mock surrender.
“The people of Capa thank you.”
He gazed at me from under a veil of thick dark lashes and tapped the hand rest of his chair nervously.
“You’re very beautiful,” he observed.
“Thank you,” I answered, sheepishly. “I’m not used to being called beautiful.”
“What else would they call you? Stunning? Gorgeous? Lovely?”
“You’re being silly,” I laughed.
He leaned forward and gripped my hand.
“Why? I’ve never seen a woman as stunning as you in my entire life.”
I raised a hand. “Seriously, stop!” I laughed. “You’re embarrassing me!”
“I’m not joking.”
I drew my hand away and looked out the window again.
“What do you do for a living?” Andrasi asked.
“I told you before, I’m a librarian.”
“A modest profession for a very modest woman.”
“I don’t usually look like this, today was supposed to be my…” I took a deep breath. “I’m only like this because of my trip to Capa.”
“Today must have been a very big day for you.”
“Yes. It was.”
“May I ask, how can a woman as attractive as you, seem so surprised by the idea of someone finding you extremely beautiful? Is it that you go out of your way to look plain or that you are too modest to accept a compliment?”
“Not exactly. I just happen to think women today rely on their looks, instead of intelligence or wit. They think being beautiful will give them a free pass but they’re taking the easy way out. They want to be like reality TV stars, or celebrities.”
“And you don’t?”
“Of course not!” I replied, cheeks warming. “I pride myself on going to work every day, and earning my own way. It’s true, that beautiful people are treated better in our society, but I know my looks didn’t pay my way in life, I did that on my own. Besides, not everyone gets to be beautiful, so how is that fair?”
“Kind of the same as someone who’s born rich. It’s not fair to the rest of the world, but it happens. May I ask what your parents do for a living?”
“Jeez, I feel like I’m being vetted for the presidency. My father owns a couple of grocery stores, and my mother is a homemaker.”
“You’re so ordinary…” Andrasi replied, his eyes lighting up, “It’s fascinating.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I mean that in a good way. I meet celebrities, politicians, religious figures, billionaire executives and clientele. These are people who believe they are the exception, that they’re special and deserve to be treated better than everyone else because they’re famous. The ones who expect to be treated like royalty have five or six assistants to wait on them hand and foot. It’s refreshing to meet someone who embraces normalcy, and derives from it a sense of dignity and pride. What do you do for fun, Selena?”
“This might sound boring but, I like to read. That’s why I work at the library.”
“You’re unreal,” he said, waving a flight attendant over to pour him another glass of chardonnay. “Everyone likes to read. What else do you like?”
“Oh whatever. I like everything normal people like. Dining out, traveling, fashion, oh, and gardening…”
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“What about you? What do you do for fun?” I asked.
Andrasi half-smiled. “Do I strike you as the kind of man who has fun?”
“Sure! You seem like the adventurous type, like someone who gets excited at the idea of doing something new.”
“Trust me, it’s hard to get excited when you’ve seen the world twice over.”
His voice was suddenly heavy with disappointment and regret haunted his shimmering dark eyes. The last thing I needed was to spend the next few hours with someone more depressed than I was, so I tried to lighten the mood.
“You were excited a few moments ago,” I beamed, poking him in the chest.
Andrasi leaned across the seat and caressed my arm with his fingertips, making me shiver from head to toe.
“Beautiful women always excite me.”

I tried to think of something clever to say in return, but my mind went blank. The brush of his fingers against my skin was electrifying. Andrasi cupped my chin, lifting my face so that I stared him directly in the eyes.
“…And there is nothing more exciting to me than experiencing life with someone who is seeing the world for the first time.”
Without breaking my gaze, I moved Andrasi’s hand away from my face. It was still my wedding day, even if my heart had been broken. He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers as he drew his hand away, left me quivering from my head to the tips of my toes. Then sensing my unease, Andrasi released me.
“I’ve taken up enough of your time…” he abruptly stated. “The bedroom is down the hall. If you get tired, feel free to use the master cabin as you see fit. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
When he spoke, his lips were a breath away from mine. I felt an overwhelming desire to brush the hair away from his perfectly sculpted face and kiss him.
Andrasi rose from his seat and I managed to stammer a polite “thank you,” as he strode away.
Despite my cool exterior, on the inside, I felt like I had been turned upside down. If Andrasi intended to join me in his bedroom, then he was sorely mistaken! There was no denying it, Andrasi was a good looking man, but I was still very much in love with Marvin. Was he expecting some sort of payment in return for the flight? If so, I would pay him back in full, even if it meant depleting my savings or paying him back over time.
After I was certain Andrasi was out of earshot, I put a pair of headphones on and listened to airplane music, which played Puccini’s Madam Butterfly. Too sad, I thought. I needed something that would lift me up so I immediately clicked the next song on the playlist, O Mio Babbino Caro, before finally turning it off. So much for getting him out of my head. Clearly, Andrasi had a flair for the dramatic.

Luckily, he didn’t come back which allowed me to relax and enjoy airplane’s grandeur. I spent the next two hours reading then enjoyed a glass of Château Latour red wine and a gourmet meal cooked by Andrasi’s chef, while watching an action movie with Harrison Ford about a terrorist group hijacking an airplane. Exhausted by the events of the day, and with another three hours of flight to spare, I crept down the hall to the all white bedroom, quietly passing the staircase to Andrasi’s office, kicked my shoes off and fell asleep. A short while later, a flight attendant shook me awake, prompting me to return my seat and to put my seat belt on. We had arrived at Capa International Airport. After landing, three comely young flight attendants unceremoniously ushered me off of Andrasi’s luxury private jet into a waiting car, a silver-colored Maybach driven by Harold, his abiding chauffeur. I felt a twinge of disappointment. I was hoping to thank Andrasi once again for allowing me to travel on his plane, but he failed to emerge from his office. I wondered, with some regret, if the ladies had another flight or if he simply wanted me gone. Knowing someone on this faraway exotic island had given me some comfort, but alas, the man had already washed his hands of me.
I thought nothing more of my surreal experience with Andrasi as I watched the scenery of startling blue oceans, white sand beaches, cabins, and cottages pass by. Instead, I contemplated what my honeymoon would have been like and how Marvin and I would have spent our time together as newlyweds. Tears stung the corner of my eyes but I refused to let them fall, especially with Harold peeking through the rearview mirror. I clasped my hands together and stared at the floor until the tears subsided. The car came to a halt and Harold popped out and opened the door.
“We’re here Miss Capshaw. Can I do anything else for you?”
“Thanks, Harold, I’m fine. Did you enjoy your trip?”
He smiled sheepishly.
“I enjoyed the trip very much, ma’m. The plane is exquisite,” he said.
“You can dispense of the formalities. Just call me Selena. I’m in Capa for two weeks so we’ll be seeing each other around.”
“Thanks, Selena. I’d like that.”

Harold carried my bags into the Grand Agnes Hotel and left them with the bell boy while I was attended to at the front desk. The clerk was a tallish man with a Greek accent similar to Andrasi’s. He was sharply dressed in a berry and gold colored hotel uniform, and matching hat, with his gelled back, jet-black hair curled beneath it. He wasn’t as clean-shaven or as clean-cut as the hotel clerks I was used to seeing in America. He was distinctly masculine with a no-nonsense demeanor as he ignored the incessantly ringing telephone in favor of focusing of me as if I were the most important person on the planet.
“Miss Capshaw, I presume?” My name is Nicolai, and I am the manager of the Grand Agnes Hotel. Welcome to Capa! I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay with us. Here are the keys to your room.”
Nicolai slid the receipt and keycard across the desk with aplomb. There was no mention of Marvin when he was the one who arranged for the trip and paid for our suite, so how did Nicolai know my name? The brusque manager snapped his fingers and a bell boy swiftly pushed my luggage over to the front desk.
“Take Miss Capshaw’s belongings up to our luxurious Capa Suite. And please, Miss Capshaw, enjoy a bottle of Chateau Latour red wine, courtesy of the Grand Agnes Hotel.”
Did he just say Capa Suite? Brochures on the counter of the front desk displayed pictures of the hotel’s most extravagant room…a two level suite with a wraparound veranda and an astounding view of the Oceanside. According to the receipt, the room was priced at $12,000 USD a night. I pushed the keycard back to Nicolai.
“I can’t accept this.”
“Is something wrong?”
“My fiancé’s travel agent booked a smaller hotel room.”
“Your room was upgraded courtesy of the Prigkipas, Andrasi—”
The phone at the front desk rang, but it was not a typical ring. This one had a special tone, one that stiffened Nicolai’s back and made him stand with his shoulders straight. He grabbed the receiver swiftly then snapped his fingers at the bell boy, speaking in a clipped, urgent tone.
“Please show Miss Capshaw to her room, I must take this.”
Without waiting for a response Nicolai put the phone to his ear and turned his back.
I wondered what could be so important to make him treat a guest so dismissively. Unwilling to debate him further about the room, I collected the keycard and the receipt, and followed the bell boy to the elevator. The only thing I wanted at this point was a bed, didn’t matter to me if it was a single or double.
With the elevators closing around us, I was looking forward to a few hours sleep before starting the rest of my trip.
“Have you been to Capa before?” the bell boy asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.
“No, first time,” I answered.
“First time for everything at least once, huh? You’re American, aren’t you?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“I can tell by the way you’re dressed. I like America. I went there with my grandparents when I was little. Capa is the smallest city on the planet. I can’t wait to travel the world on my own someday.”
“Trust me, Capa’s hardly the smallest city on the planet. We have towns in America that are way smaller than Capa.”
“Really? It looks so much bigger on TV. America’s the first place I’m going to. New York,” he answered, matter-of-factly.
“Cool. New York can be expensive so save as much money as you can for the trip.”
“I’m not worried, I’ve got more than enough money,” the young man drawled, “but my grandparents won’t let me go. The name’s Gavin, by the way.”

The elevator stopped. Gavin slid a keycard into a slot and the elevator doors opened to the Capa Suite. The first thing I saw was a foyer twice the size of my living room, marble floors, a crystal and gold chandelier the size of a bath tub, and a breathtaking view of the Oceanside.
“Amazing!” I gasped over my shoulder, as I walked inside. I inhaled the beauteous scent of fresh roses emanating from a bouquet left on a marble accent table near the door. I pulled the card from the side of the vase, expecting a generic message from management:
“Hope you are enjoying your stay in our beautiful city – See you soon, Andrasi.”
After leaving my luggage in the foyer, Gavin departed from the room unnoticed.
“‘See you soon’? Had Andrasi made arrangements with Nicolai while I was in route to the hotel? Was he planning to visit?

My heart thundered in my chest and the adrenaline in my veins raced like a horse at the Kentucky Derby.
I paced to the living room and looked around. A staircase in the center of the room led upstairs to a loft where the main bedroom was located. I glanced around the corner. There was another bedroom just down the hall.
After peeking inside, I ran up the stairs. The first thing I did was open the doors to the veranda, allowing a fresh ocean breeze into the room. The declining sun had cast a red orange hue onto a staircase that led to a private beach from the wraparound veranda. I ripped my shirt off, slid out of my pants, and raked my hands through the now tangled tendrils of my hair as I walked outside. I ran downstairs and let my bare feet sink into cool white Mediterranean sand. Marvin would be here, had he chosen not to abandon me on our wedding day. Maybe not in the Capa Suite, but somewhere in this hotel in another beautiful room. So much beauty, wasted on such a terrible day.
I let the grief sink in, and the tears roll down my cheeks as I strolled the beach alone, the wind lifting my dark brown hair. As the waves rolled onto shore and twilight settled in, I reveled in the seclusion the private beach engendered. I could wail as loudly as I wanted and no one could hear me. I collapsed to my knees then lay on my stomach, my cheek against the sand. The moon brought a heavy tide. I allowed it to wash over me, soaking my silky black camisole and creamy mocha skin in salty sea water. With my eyes closed I allowed the breeze caress my face. If I could wake up back at the hotel at home… today would still be my wedding day, and Marvin and I would get married and live happily ever after.
I finally awoke to the tender warmth of a hand on my shoulder. “Marvin?”
He shook his head slowly. With the light eclipsing his figure, his face was merely a shadow.
By then, the moon had settled high in the sky. Its luminous light beamed down on my head.
The night breeze, and its companion the sea, left Goosebumps along my chilled skin. The hand rubbed until my arm was warm as I placed my open hands over my face and wept.
“We were worried about you,” Andrasi said. “Concierge knocked on your door. Your clothes were strewn on the floor and we couldn’t find you. You could have gotten hypothermia out here in the water for so long.”
I heard genuine worry in his voice. He drew me into his arms and pressed my face against his chest.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I could ask the same of you,” he gently, chided.
“I felt like crying.”
“You can cry inside. Or better, in my arms. You shouldn’t be out here.”
One of my tears trickled down to his hand. Andrasi took his shirt off and wrapped it around me.
My teeth chattered. “I’m so cold.”
“Let me take you inside.”
He slid an arm under my leg.
“No, I can manage—”
Ignoring my protests, Andrasi scooped me up into his arms and draped my arm over his neck. I felt the wind beneath me as he silently carried me across the sand, up the stairs through the veranda, to the master bedroom.
A small night-light flickered on by sensor as we stumbled inside. Andrasi released me to the big comfy hotel bed then disappeared. I thought nothing, I felt nothing but numbness as the trauma of the day sunk in. Andrasi thankfully returned a minute or so later, seating himself on the edge of the bed with a small glass of scotch.
“This will warm you up,” he said, cupping my cold wet hands around the glass.
I took a sip of the liquor, which burned on the way down my throat. Andrasi smiled. “You’ll get used to it. It’s very old, and very strong.”
After taking another sip I passed him the glass and laid my head on one of the big feathery pillows. He brushed my hair away from my temples then gingerly kissed my forehead. In the darkness, his night shaded eyes sparkled in the shimmering moonlight.
“I didn’t want to say anything before, but…” he hesitated, taking a deep breath.
“But what?” I asked.
“About how beautiful you are. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. On the plane I couldn’t stand to be near you, but I couldn’t stand to be away from you either. I’m not used to having these feelings, especially for a woman I just met. I did my best to avoid you for the rest of the trip but I can’t stay away. I’m sorry.”
We were strangers. But the energy emanating between us in the darkness made us feel intimately familiar.
“You’re lying,” I said.
“But you are—
I put my fingers over his lips. “You were going to say something else, weren’t you?”
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
“You paused like you were about to tell me something but realized it wasn’t the right time or the right thing to say.”
“And you think what I told you just now was any easier to spit out?”
“It had to be or you wouldn’t have said it.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Is that why you sought me out?”
Andrasi rubbed a hand through the back of his hair like he was frustrated. “You were right. I came here to tell you something, but realized it doesn’t matter, so…”
I sat up. I was curious now.
“Oh. What is it?”
He shook his head.
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter now. May I see you tomorrow?”
He interlocked his fingers between mine.
“For what? I’m sure you’ll see me around town, here and there.”
“For dinner. We’re friends, right?”
“Well… I suppose. You did save my life.”
At this, Andrasi smiled.
“And you saved mine.”
He leaned forward and kissed me, his lips consuming mine until I was breathless. His hands roamed my flesh as he pressed every inch of his male physique against my soft, acquiescing form. I moaned faintly, closing my eyes as he wedged his hips between my thighs and his fingers caressed my budding nipples. He groaned, then in an act of gentlemanly restraint, quickly drew away. “Get some rest, okay?”
The timbre of his voice caressed my skin like silk.
I nodded, hoping he would leave before something regrettable happened as I turned on my side, toward the moonlight streaming through the windows.
“Goodnight…” I finally answered, barely turning to look over my shoulder.

I felt his presence vacate the room as I closed my eyes.