Only slightly annoyed that his reaction hadn’t been funnier, Sylvie agreed and turned her attention to the dessert selection, already planning to order a full portion of the pineapple tart for herself.
“You’re leaving the day after tomorrow?” Luke asked, sounding almost like he didn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” she said. “Feels way too soon, if you ask me.”
“It does,” he replied, smiling at her across the table.
Keeping her breathing steady, Sylvie ignored the fluttering of her heart at his smile. The past few days had seemed like a dream. Everything she loved about Luke as a teenager was still there, and they got along just as well as they always had. It almost felt like old times.
“When’s the wedding?” she asked, not wanting to be caught reminiscing.
“The wedding?” he repeated, sounding alarmed. “What do you mean?”
“Just, you know, you got here—what, three days ago? Have your friends managed to evade further transportation disasters?”
She looked up and saw a waiter watching them. Smiling, she waved at the menu to show they were ready to order. After they listed their dishes and ordered a large jug of Ti’ Punch to share, the waiter left them alone again.
“Is everything all right?” she asked. “Or has it turned into an actual disaster?”
Luke let out a small laugh and shook his head. “Kind of. The wedding is set for Saturday…in theory, I guess.”
Her jaw dropped. “In theory? Generally, you have to be pretty sure of the date before flying a bunch of people out to the Caribbean. Is it because of all the travel mishaps?”
Luke hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it kind of messed up everything. I mean, I’m the only one here! The earliest anyone else can arrive is the day after tomorrow, and there’s so much that still needs to happen.”
Sylvie suddenly felt guilty for having joked about the situation. She couldn’t imagine the stress the bride and groom must be feeling. In all her years of planning events, she had seen many last-minute disasters, but none as severe as this.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll get sorted out,” she said. “Though I’m sorry it’s all gone a bit belly-up.”
“I’m not,” Luke said, then immediately looked sheepish. “I mean, I am. But if everything had gone to plan, there’s no way we’d have gotten to hang out like this, and this has been really, really great.”
Unable to hide her smile, Sylvie laughed. “Well, when you put it like that…”
He joined her just as the waiter returned, pouring each of them a glass of the strong rum cocktail and topping the drinks with wedges of fresh lime. But Luke seemed a little distant, and she hoped it wasn’t anything she had said. It couldn’t just be that she was leaving soon, right?
It wasn’t like Friday was goodbye for good. Now that they’d reconnected, they could keep in touch once they were both back in the States. The only reason they hadn’t before was because they were teenagers who had just broken up. But now, there was nothing stopping them from being friends.
Long-distance friends, she reminded herself. Several thousand miles and multiple states apart. But hey, that’s what phones were for—as her mom would’ve said. A pang of grief tightened her chest.
Clearing her throat, she caught Luke’s eye and smiled. No way would she let the night turn sour over goodbyes she couldn’t control.
“To the unexpected!” she said, raising her glass.
Luke’s slow smile warmed her as he raised his in return. “To the unexpected.”
Chapter 20
The days in Martinique had been beautiful, but Sylvie found herself loving the nighttime even more. Every evening, she made sure to be outside on one of the balconies. Tonight, it was the balcony of the small bar at the back of the hotel. She had come down here because the dining terrace was closed for a private event—she assumed it was the wedding reception Portia had mentioned. She was offered a tray in her room, which should have been fine, but the problem was that every single option felt like a cop-out.
Club sandwich. Tuna melt. Personal pizza.
So, instead, she went down to the bar and ordered herself a martini like they drank inFemme de Force.She hadn’t done as many things related to the film as she’d thought she would, and she was running out of time. Spending the last few days with Luke had been fun, but it had left her with less time to think than she’d wanted.
Even as she thought it, a pang of sadness and regret rippled through her—she hadn’t seen Luke today. They hadn’t made plans the night before, and he hadn’t been at breakfast, so she spent the day wandering around town, picking up souvenirs and stopping by a few of the places she had seen on the way to or from their excursions. She couldn’t let not seeing him ruin her last day in Martinique.
Her last night. The thought kept echoing in her mind. Coming here had definitely not been part of the plan, but she couldn’t deny that it had been wonderful. Until tonight, at least.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a group of men in their twenties tossing back shots despite already being pretty drunk. Sylvie sighed, disappointed that her last proper evening wouldn’t be spent on the terrace. She felt like an older kid at a dinner party who had been removed from the grown-ups’ table and sent to sit with the little kids.
