“That’s terrifying!” Sylvie exclaimed, laughing. “What are you doing here, talking tome? If you have half a minute to spare, you should be taking a nap! You must be the busiest person on the island!”
There was a faint hint of a proud smile on Portia’s face as she waved away the compliment. “Oh, thank you. Imightbe. I came to speak with you because you’re listed as aspecial guest at the hotel. Then, when I heard you were asking about arrangements, I wanted to make sure you weren’t a troublemaker.”
“Well, IhopeI’m not any trouble,” Sylvie replied, wondering what kind of trouble she could possibly cause.
“I don’t think you will be,” Portia said. “I like you. You’re a funny woman. You’re here on holiday, but would you like a quick tour—from my wedding-planner point of view?”
Sylvie’s heart swelled with gratitude—and relief, if she were honest—as she smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Only if it’s no bother,” she said, standing and grabbing her small pocket notebook and pen from the table.
In the back of her head, she could almost hear Juliette’s voice, chastising her for finding a way to work while on vacation.
As they made their way around the hotel, Sylvie took several pages of notes about things she’d love to try at Sweet Stays Inn. It couldn’t have been a more delightful conversation with Portia; she’d met the kitchen staff and learned that the bellhop who’d taken her bags was also a talented violinist, and he played if the couple chose the classical music package.
By the time Portia seated her at a table on the dining terrace—a special table, she suspected, since it was set for one and offered a stunning view of the water—Sylvie was even more exhausted than when she arrived. It took her throughout the main course to realize, however, that she would probably never get to put any of her ideas into action.
There was no way she could cross every Sweet Someday off the list. Even if Lilly was interested in running the inn, would she want to stay and work for her teenage niece?
Sylvie skipped dessert, returned to her room early, and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Chapter 14
The muscles in Sylvie’s face were sore from smiling during the video call with Lilly, but she refused to let her niece see how absolutely miserable she felt. “It really is just so beautiful,” she said for the tenth time. “I can’t get over it.”
“Right? Send me more pictures!” Lilly gushed. “Are you going snorkeling?”
“I don’t think so, honey. I’ll send you some snaps tomorrow, okay?”
She tried to ignore Lilly’s sarcastic eye roll. What did it matter if her niece thought she was boring? Or afraid to get in the water? Or, if she were being honest, a little self-conscious about the idea of wearing a swimsuit in public, where every beachgoer seemed to fall into one of two categories—model or octogenarian with a tanning obsession. Sylvie knew she wasn’t in the first group and had no desire to be mistaken for the second.
“You owe me at least ten,” Lilly said. “You didn’t send me any yesterday.”
“Not true,” Sylvie retorted. “I sent three. The rest of the day, I was getting over the jet lag.”
Lilly looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Aunt Sylv, we’re in the same time zone.”
“I know that,” Sylvie replied. “I meant more like the exhaustion from traveling for nearly twenty hours!”
“Okay,” Lilly said. “I’ll forgive you, but only if you have the best time!”
Sylvie promised, and Lilly finally let her hang up. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to the girl; she just didn’t want to talk to her right now. She was still tired, even though she had slept most of the previous day, but she hadn’t been able to shake the melancholy that had settled in since dinner that first night.
Everything was lovely. There wasn’t a single thing she could want for at the hotel. It was beautiful; she had been introduced to the massage suite and told that three massages were included in her package, the food was delicious, and Portia had even stopped by her table at lunch the previous day to say hello. But she couldn’t stop herself from raking over the Sweet Somedays.
Sylvie had been adamant that she wouldn’t bring the notebook with her, and she hadn’t.
Instead, she had taken pictures of every page on her phone and then written them out neatly in her pocket notebook on the plane. She obsessively read through them until she could recite them by heart, and she even dreamt about them last night.
Shaking her head as she sat down at the terrace table, she opened the notebook and deliberately skipped over the pages with the copied list. She moved to a blank page and started jotting down the places on the island she wanted to see—locations fromFemme de Force. The movie clearly hadn’t been a big deal here. There were only a few references to it in the hotel, and no themed tours from local vendors like there might be back home. But then again, maybe there wouldn’t be back home, either. She didn’t know every movie shot in South Carolina. Why should these folks know a random film from a thousand years ago?
“Sylvie Sweet? There’s no way that’s you…”
A male voice behind her made her head spin. No… She must be hallucinating.
She slowly turned in her seat, feeling faint. Standing in the Caribbean sunlight, dressed in a sharply tailored linen suit and dark sunglasses, was the guy she once thought she would marry.
“Luke?” Her heart clenched, and her throat closed.
“My God, it is you,” he said, walking toward her. “Twenty years? I don’t think I’ve seen you since—”
