Island Fantasy

“All right, sweetheart. You go on your trip alone if you need to. But be careful. Take care of yourself.”

“Like I told Brianne, I’m going to a five-star resort in Jamaica. I’ll be in good hands, so please don’t worry. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.”

Shayna ended the call with her mother, finished packing the last of her things for her trip and headed to bed in her apartment—all too aware that it was a far cry from the posh honeymoon suite she and Vince had booked for the night.

About five hours later, Shayna was up in the middle of the night and driving to Toronto, where she and Vince were scheduled to fly to Jamaica on a charter plane.

She turned the radio on as she drove, hoping music would block out her thoughts. But within minutes, she was no longer focusing on the lyrics of Kanye West, but the reality that the last thirty hours hadn’t been an awful dream.

Shayna had often taken playful ribbing from her friends about her single status. Especially when she’d hit thirty and still hadn’t found her true love. They had teased her about the fact that she could come up with the best heroes in her novels, yet couldn’t find one in her real life.

“Writing the perfect hero has taught me that the last thing I want to do is settle,” Shayna always explained. It had become her mantra.

Shortly before her thirty-first birthday, she’d met Vince. And her life had changed. He was successful. Charming. Attractive. Finally, the man she’d been waiting for had come into her life.

Was he always a cheater? Shayna wondered. Or did alcohol truly make him lose his mind on Friday night?

A moment after the question popped into her mind, Shayna knew that it didn’t matter. If he’d always been a cheater, then good riddance. If the alcohol had clouded his morality, then good riddance.

Gripping the steering wheel, she drew in a deep, calming breath. But she felt anything but calm. She felt anxious and hurt and relieved all in one.

Which was to be expected. Her mind might know better, but her heart was still reeling from shock.

She hoped that after a week in Jamaica she could return home with her mind, body and spirit refreshed, able to truly consider Vince a part of her past. Because it wasn’t so much Vince she was grieving now as the loss of the dreams she’d had about her future with him.

She’d told herself that she wouldn’t shed another tear over Vince. If he could so easily sleep with one of the strippers from the bachelor party in the backseat of his car on the night before their wedding, then he wasn’t worth her tears. Yes, the life she’d been planning and hoping for had been taken away from her in the blink of an eye, but it was far better that Vince betrayed her now, before they said their I do’s. Shayna’s good friend, Christine, was still reeling from her husband’s decision to leave her for another woman, and after six years of marriage, Christine was now a single mother.

No, if Vince was going to cheat, this was the time.

But as much as Shayna knew she needed to move on, she still felt pain deep in her soul. She wished she could turn her emotions off the way one did a light switch, but that simply wasn’t realistic.

Hopefully one week in Jamaica would go a long way toward helping her heal.

After an hour and forty-five minutes of driving, Shayna arrived at the Pearson International Airport. She parked, caught the train to Terminal One and dutifully lined up at the counter. A pleasant young woman greeted her with a warm smile. Shayna handed over the paperwork she’d downloaded from the travel agent, along with her passport.

The airline representative punched in Shayna’s information, then promptly raised her eyes to hers. “According to your reservation, you’re traveling with a Vince Danbury.”

“The plan has changed,” Shayna said. “I’m traveling alone.”

“Oh.” The woman’s gaze immediately lowered to Shayna’s ringless left hand. The impression of the ring that had once been there was visible.

“Let’s just say I’m thanking my lucky stars that I learned the truth about him before we said I do,” Shayna told the woman.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said.

“Don’t be. Better now than five years and a couple of kids later.”

“This is true.” The woman printed off a ticket and handed it to Shayna. “Seat 6F. Gate B27. Boarding begins in an hour and fifteen minutes. You have plenty of time.”

Shayna took her time heading to the gate, stopping to get a light breakfast—a banana and a yogurt. She also stopped to buy a murder mystery. She tried to act like a woman going on a happy trip, instead of a person going on her supposed honeymoon alone.

At least on the plane she didn’t have to worry about making small talk with a stranger. The seat beside her—the one that should have been for Vince—remained unoccupied.

Shayna closed her eyes and tried to sleep as the plane headed for Jamaica.

An hour after arriving at Sangster International Airport in Montego Bay, the chartered bus taking the passengers to the hotel slowed down, then began turning left. Shayna’s eyes widened, her spirits soaring when she saw the exterior of the resort.

The Gran Bahia Principe in Runaway Bay, Jamaica, could not have been more beautiful. The grounds were lush with palm trees, well-manicured lawns, and neatly trimmed bushes. An array of colorful flowers added to the hotel’s beauty. She broke out in an ear-to-ear grin when she caught a glimpse of the turquoise-blue sea in the distance. This was her first time in the Caribbean, and so far, the landscape was everything she’d dreamed of.

So was the hotel. To put it simply, it was gorgeous. The large columns at the front made it look like a Roman structure—grand and elegant.

Shayna had been sitting alone at the back of the bus, not wanting to engage in small talk, and she waited until everyone had filed off before getting up to exit. The digital clock at the front of the bus read 3:32 p.m.

Outside, the sun was shining in a perfect blue sky. Perhaps the first thing Shayna would do was head to her room, get changed and then find a restaurant where she could have a late lunch. After that, she’d find a spot under a palm tree and continue reading the novel she’d started on the plane.

Shayna got off the bus and stood to the side, knowing it would take a few more minutes for all of the luggage to be unloaded. On the right side of the wide lobby, near the front desk, a woman in a black skirt and white blouse was offering welcome cocktails to the newcomers. Shayna would be sure to get one as soon as she retrieved her luggage.

After a few minutes, she turned back toward the bus and joined the people searching for their suitcases. Hers was navy blue and she would recognize it anywhere, even among a mountain of navy blue suitcases. She wasn’t like people who mistakenly took another person’s luggage because they all looked so similar.

But she didn’t see her suitcase anywhere. It had been with her when she’d gotten off the plane. She’d taken it to the bus. It had to be somewhere.

She approached the bus driver. “My suitcase,” she began. “I don’t see it anywhere.”

“No worries, lovely lady.” The man’s eyes roamed over her face appreciatively. “The suitcases are being taken into the main lobby.” He gestured up the few steps to the left side of the large open foyer.

“Oh. I see.” How had she missed that?

“You’re beautiful,” he told her, letting his eyes roam a little lower. “You here by yourself?”

“Um, no. I’m meeting friends.” She handed the man a couple dollars in tip. “Thank you.”

Before he could say anything else, she turned and climbed the few steps into the lobby.

The smiling woman with the tray of cocktails approached her, and Shayna took one. The nonalcoholic beverage tasted like a mix of papaya and pineapple. It was refreshing, especially in the island heat, which was a heck of a lot warmer than the weather she’d left in Buffalo.

As Shayna took another sip, she spotted her suitcase, but before she could retrieve it, she was assured by a bellman that he would watch all the luggage until people had checked in. Then someone would help her get her luggage to the room.

“It’s only one piece,” Shayna said. “I’ll be fine with it on my own.”

When she retracted the handle, the man said, “You can leave it with me until you’re checked in. Is all right?”

Slowly, she nodded, though she didn’t fully meet the man’s eyes. She saw that he, too, was checking her out. Maybe he figured her for a tourist who had come to the island to get lucky.

He was cute, but she wasn’t interested—even if she did like the sound of his Jamaican accent.

Shayna went to the line at the front desk and waited for her turn to check in. As she did, her eyes roamed. There was a huge stone structure in the middle of the lobby, surrounded by a fountain and foliage. The structure sort of resembled a giant teardrop. Sort of. The floors were a cream-colored marble. The place was elegantly decorated, no doubt about it. The perfect place to spend a honeymoon.