“A compliment?”
“I’m stating the obvious.”
“You know what else is unique about me?” I lower my eyes to my crotch.
“Err… I’m good.”
I couldn’t resist.
“Speaking of Roman, how’s your brother?”
“He’s doing better.” I rub the back of my neck. “Guilt still eats at me, though.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
I hesitate.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the question.”
I exhale. “Two and a half months ago, I sent Roman to the Maldives to determine if we should keep a couple of hotels we have there or if we should sell them. Numbers are one thing but getting the lay of the land offers perspective. It was a productive trip. Within a week of him landing on the island, we made the final decision to sell. Then, he was off to the Seychelles to check up on our three hotels there.”
I have her full attention.
“On the way back to LA, he stopped in Hawaii to meet up with a couple buddies of his for a short surfing holiday. As the baby of the family, Roman is a daredevil. Mom and Dad let him get away with murder. Since he had four older brothers, he always felt the need toten-upus. That charactertrait never subsided. Pe’ahi—located on the north shore of the island of Maui—is more commonly known as Jaws and got the threatening name due to the size and ferocity of the swells.”
“That sounds frightening.”
I nod. “I don’t have balls big enough to take on Pe’ahi.”
“But Roman does?”
“It wasn’t Roman’s first time surfing there.” I swallow. “However, this time, things went horribly wrong. He got caught in one of those monster waves and almost died. His two friends didn’t make it.”
“Dear God.”
“Since Dad was recovering from a heart attack and was prohibited from flying, Slate, Wilder, and I made the trip to Maui. It was frightening to see Roman all battered and bruised. My baby brother was in a coma for ten days and he sustained life-threatening injuries, but he’s still with us. Losing another family member would’ve destroyed us all.”
She places a hand on my arm. “Mother Nature was having a bad day, Phoenix. You’re not responsible for Roman’s accident.”
Logically, I get. Most days.
I move away from a topic sure to bring down the mood. “About the honeymoon––”
“We’re going to have a honeymoon for a fake wedding?” Her eyebrows pinch together.
“Yes and no.”
“You lost me.”
“Dad is the one who attends the HEEA Europe Awards. It’s a prestigious hospitality industry award. He had a checkup a couple days ago and although he’s recovering nicely, his doctors don’t think it’s wise for him to fly yet. My brothers are booked to attend other important industry events, so I’ll be the one representing the company. The awards take place next week inParis. I figured we’d kill two birds with one stone––the awards and our honeymoon.”
“A fake honeymoon in the most romantic city in the world?” She shakes her head. “We might as well play out this plot to the hilt.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
Malice sparkles in her eyes. “Will we take selfies in front of the Eiffel Tower or should we Photoshop all our honeymoon photos?”
“Smart ass.”
