A sigh of relief escapes me. I jump off the bed and almost skip into the bathroom, my normal self-consciousness overridden by relief. And maybe a shot of confidence that a man like Ant would want even a temporary thing with me.
“We’d better get dressed and down to breakfast or Mum will be knocking on the door any minute,” I throw over my shoulder before I turn on the shower where there’s plenty of room for two.
Maybe Mei was right. Maybe all I needed to improve my frame of mind was a good seeing-to. And I’ve never had a seeing-toquite like last night. I thought when I met Ant that he probably knew how to be very naughty indeed.
And I was right.
Breakfast is served in the spectacular open-air restaurant overlooking the pool and gardens. I settle into my chair and absorb the scent of the gardenias and jasmine on the sea-laden breeze. The sound of the mini waterfalls in the pools. The glorious colour of the flowers filling the gardens and decorating the tables.
The beauty is broken by an embarrassingly loud rumble from my stomach, which makes Ant laugh.
It’s the most relaxing place for a meal, even with Mum and Warren only a table away. Timing is everything, and Aunt Caroline and Uncle Ross walked in moments before us, taking the spare seats, so Ant and I are on our own.
After last night and this morning, I don’t think anything could upset me. Not even the prospect of a day shopping with Emily and co.
Before I even have a chance to look at the menu, Ant is greeting the server and ordering breakfast.
“Hey, I wanted to take a look at that,” I grizzle as the server waltzes off with the menus, although to be honest, I don’t care what he’s ordered. I’m sure it’ll be divine.
“I know what you want,” Ant says with a cheeky grin, and I surrender. This place is too beautiful to be bothered with arguing. Or maybe it’s the fact that my body is still buzzing with post-sex endorphins. Probably both. I was right earlier. There was more than one way to put me in a good mood, and Ant knew several.
It feels like only seconds before our server is delivering a steaming crab omelette to Ant and a plate of sugar-crusted dumplings with a tiny jug of something yellow to me. A platter of the juiciest-looking golden pineapple I’ve ever seen is placed between us, along with two coffees.
“What are these?” I ask, sniffing the sauce. It’s sharp and sweet and tropical.
“Buttermilk malasadas with lilikoi sauce,” Ant answers, nipping a piece of pineapple off the platter and holding it out for me. I take a bite and nearly groan at the sweetness of the fruit. “They’re kind of like a Portuguese doughnut.”
“And lilikoi sauce?” I can’t quite place the smell, other than to think it’s going to be delicious.
“It’s the Hawaiian name for passionfruit.” Ant cuts into his omelette and holds his fork out for me to taste. “I’ve noticed you have a sweet tooth. I thought you’d like the malasadas. They were introduced to Hawaii in the late eighteen hundreds by sugar plantation workers from Madeira and the Azores.”
I dip a corner of the dumpling into the sauce and take a bite.
“Oh, my God.” I groan so loudly, Warren looks over with a scowl and my mother gives me a tiny shake of her head. “You thought right.” Any idea I had of asking again how he knows so much about Hawaii flies out of my head as I hoover up the dumplings and their sweet but tart sauce. Then the lion’s share of the pineapple.
Eventually, I flop back in my chair with a moan, planting my hands on my belly.
“That was the best breakfast ever.”
Even my mother’s suggestion that I should choose a healthier breakfast tomorrow, as she passes our table on her way out, doesn’t dim my shine. Pfft, I’m a doctor. I know healthy. And anything that makes you as happy as those dumplings made me comes under the heading of food for your mental health.
Despite my lack of enthusiasm for everything related to this wedding, I float through the open-air foyer, down the path over the koi ponds, and into one of the three white stretch limos Emily has organised to take us shopping in Wailea for the day. Right now, I don’t have a care in the world.
Lucky for me, Mum and Grandie are already ensconced in the first limo with the bride, her mother and the bridesmaids. In what I expect will be the usual way of things with this wedding, I’m in the third car with the daughters of my Aunt Caroline’s friends and the few teenagers who wanted to join us.
I’m sure it’s meant to be some kind of snub not putting me in the car with thecool gang, but honestly, I’m used to it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lilavati
There are so many of us that we have to split up at the upmarket shopping complex Emily chose for our outing today. Mum tries to insist I go with her and Grandie to Prada, Tommy Bahama and Gucci, but I saw a sign for Johnny Was, which is much more my style. Under the cover of needing the bathrooms, I disappear and wait till they wander off to make my move.
Moments later, I’m peacefully browsing colourful racks of clothes in a shop Mum wouldn’t be caught dead in.
“That would look amazing with your colouring,” an Australian voice says from behind me. I spin to find one of the girls from the limo I was in. Her name is Louise, I think. I must look startled because she continues. “Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. I can’t think of anything worse than spending the day with that lot.” She inclines her strawberry blonde head in the direction the rest of the group went.
“Oh, I, um …” I don’t know who she is or what she’s up to following me here. I internally kick myself for my paranoia. She doesn’t seem to need a response.
