I blush.
“Thank you.”
It looks like I need to get used to accepting compliments here. Everyone is very friendly and approachable. I’ve probably received more compliments since arriving in Bulgaria than I have in the last year back at home.
“What would m’lady like to drink?”
“Oh.” I look behind him at the stocked bar. “Do you have pink gin?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll have a pink gin and lemonade, thank you.”
“Coming right up.”
I give the sea my full attention. The black waves crashing against the rocks below me is calming for the soul. It’s no wonder everyone here is happy. The sun is shining brightly, the atmosphere is euphoric, and the whole place is beautiful.
My phone ringing distracts me, and I see Gavin’s name flashing on the screen. I wondered when he would check in. I’m surprised it took him so long, especially since I touched down a couple of hours ago.
“Hello, Gavin.”
“Hey. You arrived then.”
“Of course. Don’t sound so shocked. My driver was very attentive and dropped me off at the doorstep of my hotel.”
“And?”
“And…” I look out over the sea again and sigh contentedly. “It’s beautiful. I’ve just called into a lovely little bar/restaurant across from the hotel. I only came in for a drink, but I might even eat dinner here in a little while. It smells delicious.”
“If you find the right restaurants, you’ll want to eat all day long.”
“Any recommendations?”
“Let me have a think and I’ll send you some details. I hope you have a great trip, Harls. You deserve it.”
“Thank you, Gav.”
“Well, don’t be a stranger. I want to see and hear all about your trip.”
“You’ll be the first to hear about it. I must go just now. Take care.”
I cut off the phone call and turn my phone onto silent. I’ll never get to explore and have fun if my family are going to check up on me every minute of the day. I love them dearly, but this is an escape from reality. I want to live each moment while I can. I won’t be able to do that if I spend all of my time answering phone calls to my family back home.
***
“Harleigh, isn’t it?” a voice breaks through my thoughts as I read my book.
I look up and see Giovani and another man being seated at the table to my side. I look down at my watch and it reads eight p.m. I’ve been sitting here for about three hours. To my horror, the restaurant has filled up since I was last aware of my surroundings. Couples, families, and groups of friends have all joined various tables. It’s no longer that calm place I entered. I was transported to another world by the talented Tillie Marie. Her books have a habit of drawing me in, breaking my heart, and then healing me piece by glorious piece.
“Hello. I’m sorry. I was a million miles away.”
“Easy enough to do here. How was your food?” Giovani gestures to my near empty plate.
“It was lovely. The best pasta dish I’ve had in a long time.”
“Are you going to introduce me?” asks the gentleman sitting opposite Giovani.
“Sorry. Lucca this is Harleigh. Harleigh, this is my annoying little brother, Lucca.”
