Chapter 1 – Riley

Welcome to Historic Mystic. Settled 1654. The round wooden sign with carved inscription on the outskirts of downtown Mystic held a promise of charm and community, but Riley felt little excitement. She was a city girl, and leaving her beloved New York behind was painful and didn’t feel right. The idea was to start over, with a new and slower pace of living that would benefit her health and keep her heart ticking steadily, but driving through the sleepy town, she couldn’t imagine building a life here.

Only a handful of cars had passed her so far, and everything was closed. It was still early, she supposed, and this wasn’t the big city where some shops were open around the clock. Riley was an early riser, and she’d insisted on picking up the keys to her new home first thing Saturday morning, but the drive from Manhattan had only taken her two hours and now she’d have to wait around for the realtor to open. Slow down. Her doctor’s words echoed in the back of her mind. Take a step back and slow down.

Why had she wanted to be here so early? To check if her things had arrived in the house that she’d purchased last week? To unpack and clean the place? Her assistant had most likely already done that. And then what? That was a scary thought because Riley had no idea what to do with her life if she wasn’t working twenty-four seven.

Her satnav indicated she was close to the realtor’s office, but instead of parking in front, she continued to drive through the town to kill time. She passed pretty New England coastal-style houses with big porches and generous yards, small independent restaurants and coffee shops, and a gas station where villagers were congregated outside drinking coffee. There were a couple of churches and a sweet little harbor with a long, wooden pier lined with fishing boats. A drawbridge over Mystic River divided the village in two, and as she crossed it, she saw vessels approaching from either side. The river reflected the sweet houses along the waterfront, most of them painted red or white, with private docks and colorful boats. Sure, it was a cute village, some would even call it picturesque, but Mystic was a getaway, somewhere to spend a weekend or perhaps have a second home.

Riley didn’t know which side of the river her new house was on. She could go through her documents on the passenger’s seat and find out, but the truth was, she didn’t care all that much; it could wait until she got her keys. She hadn’t even chosen Mystic herself; her assistant had recommended it to her, as it was pretty, quiet, and rural but not too far from New York and close to a good hospital. After that, Riley had scrolled the local realtor’s website and picked a house. With only three properties on the market close to the center—if you could call it that—there wasn’t much choice, so she’d gone for the biggest one and settled on a great price as it had been on the market for a while.

To others, it may have seemed a ridiculous way to start over, but after she’d nearly worked herself to death and then sold her company, she couldn’t care less where she was. She just needed a place to rest and come up with a plan on how to move forward, and Mystic was as good a place as any to do that. At least the name had a nice ring to it; it sounded kind of spiritual.

The town was quieter on the other side of the river, and after driving past an art museum and a small library, there wasn’t much to see. More pretty houses, two farms, and a park entrance lined the road, which was broken up with occasional roundabouts that served as focal point for statues of what she assumed to be high-standing historical town figures. Before she knew it, she’d driven out of the village and was nearing Groton, the neighboring town.

“This is ridiculous,” she murmured, turning the car on a church driveway. What was she going to do here all day, every day? She was highly intelligent, intensely driven, and anything she touched practically turned into gold, yet now she’d have to take it easy for the rest of her life, and she was only forty. Used to working between fourteen and sixteen hours a day, Riley wondered what people with too much time on their hands did with their lives because she couldn’t think of a single thing that she enjoyed more than being successful. Without her PR business to focus on, who was she?

Noting the realtor would be open now, she drove back toward the drawbridge, then cursed as the lights turned red. Her first reaction was to slam her hand on the horn, but she doubted anyone would hold the bridge down just because she needed to be somewhere. Take it easy, she told herself once again. Deep breaths. She called the realtor; a woman’s voice sounded over the speakers.

“Mystic Estates, Lindsey speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi, it’s Riley Moore. I was meant to meet you at nine-thirty to pick up the keys to the Aster House, but the drawbridge is up, and it’s taking forever, so I just wanted to let you know I’ll be late.”

“No problem, that happens regularly,” the woman said in a cheerful tone. “And I have the keys here. Your assistant dropped them off last night. Are you in a hurry?”

Riley hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “No, there’s no rush,” she said, wondering if she’d ever uttered those words before.

“Great. Stay where you are, and I’ll come your way as soon as the bridge is down. Aster House is on the Groton side. You’re not far, but it’s a little hard to find, so I was planning on taking you there anyway.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. I’ll see you soon.”

Riley turned off her engine, pushed her seat back, and took a couple of deep breaths. It was only just starting to sink in. She’d arrived, and this was it; her new life, void of direction or any form of excitement. Even worse, she’d be living on the quiet side of the river. Not that the other side had much going for it, but at least there were shops there. And now she’d have to wait every time the bridge was up.

Chapter 2 – Quinn

Quinn got out of her pickup and headed for the ice cream parlor at the base of the drawbridge. Grabbing a coffee while the bridge was drawn was a welcome break to her morning, as she’d been up for a while doing renovation work in one of the houses along the harbor. She preferred to keep her weekends free, but with the looming deadline, she’d decided to wake up early and get ahead of schedule for next week. Passing the queue of cars in front of the bridge, she spotted her friend Lindsey and tapped the roof of her car, giving her a wave.

Lindsey smiled and rolled down her window. “Hey there! Good morning. Are you getting coffee?”

“Yeah, they just opened. Want one?”

“Please.” Lindsey handed her a note. “Skinny latte, no sugar. Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” Quinn ordered a skinny latte for Lindsey, a black coffee for herself, and a slice of carrot cake for them to share. She didn’t mind waiting for the bridge and neither did anyone else in Mystic. Most locals knew each other, and it was a great excuse to catch up.

Lindsey shielded her eyes from the sun as she took her coffee. “Where are you heading?”

“Wholesalers in Groton,” Quinn said. “I need some more wood to finish up the staircase for the Dalton house.”

“Ah. Nearly finished?” Lindsey asked. “I heard it’s looking spectacular already and they’re giving me the listing. I can’t wait to see it.”

“Yup. Nearly done.” Quinn smiled. “And good for you about the listing.”

“Thanks. Things are finally starting to look up after winter.” Lindsey sipped her coffee with one arm out of the window, holding on to the roof. “I sold Aster House. Did you hear about that?”

Quinn’s stomach dropped, and she steadied herself against Lindsey’s car. “What?” she stared at her. “I thought you said it was overpriced and wouldn’t sell in a million years.”

“Yeah, but the owners were desperate, so they dropped the price. And then this woman from New York showed interest, and she bought it without a single viewing. Just like that. Two point nine million, as if it was nothing.”

“So it’s gone…”

“Yes.” Lindsey shot her a sweet smile. “Hey, that’s life. I know you love that house, but let’s be realistic. It would take you at least another five to ten years to get the down payment for that mortgage together.” She shrugged. “Anyway, she may not stick around, so who knows? Maybe it’ll come up for sale again in a few years’ time and by then, you might have won the lottery.”

Quinn nodded and managed a chuckle. Lindsey was right; it was unrealistic of her to think that house would be hers anytime soon, but it still stung because it felt like hers. “She’s from New York, you said?”

“Uh-huh. New York City. Her name is Riley Moore, and that’s all I know about her. She wasn’t exactly the chatty type on the phone. I’m meeting her on the other side.” Lindsey started her car when the bridge lowered and winked at Quinn. “I’ll let you know if she’s hot. If she’s from the city, there might be a tiny chance she plays for your team.”

“Shut up.” Quinn rolled her eyes and laughed, threw the paper bag with carrot cake through the window, and tapped the roof of Lindsey’s car again before she walked back to her pickup truck.

“Hey! Is this for me? We always share,” Lindsey called after her.

“Have it,” she yelled back with another wave. Aster House had once again slipped through her fingers, and she wasn’t hungry anymore. Even though she couldn’t afford the house right now—and maybe she never would—she’d liked that it had stood empty since the previous owners put it up for sale and moved away two years ago. As strange as it sounded, it felt like the house had been waiting for her to come back. It looked so sad that it made her stop each time she passed, its big shutters closed like eyelids and the huge front door like a gaping mouth, calling to her. Come back. She wanted to open those shutters, wake the house from hibernation, and restore it to its old glory, and wander through the rooms where beautiful childhood memories lay. She’d shower the neglected yard with love, so asters could bloom again, and fill the lawn with laughter. If it was hers, everyone would be welcome and the door would always be wide open. Would the new owner appreciate the house for what it was? Probably not. There had been several owners over the past thirty years, and none of them had stayed long enough to fall in love with it. They’d all said they felt lost there, that it was too big to live in, and some even claimed it was haunted.

Quinn didn’t believe in ghosts. She believed in history, and with history came a certain palpable energy, but it was good energy. She could feel it, even from outside the gates. Aster House breathed; long, slow breaths. A sleeping beauty.

Engines roared and someone beeped a horn behind her, startling Quinn out of her thoughts. There was little point feeling loss over something that was never hers in the first place, but she’d have her chance again. Maybe in five years, maybe in ten. No one ever stayed in Aster House.

Chapter 3 – Riley

“Here we are. Welcome to Aster House.” Lindsey pushed open the heavy gates so Riley could drive through. It was much more overgrown than in the pictures, but she supposed the previous owners had stopped taking care of the yard the moment they moved out. Following the long driveway up to the big, white manor house, she was shocked by how grand everything was. The trees were old and huge, the yard stretched far and wide with several old fountains dotted around, and the house itself was at least ten times the size of her New York penthouse. What on earth had made her think it was a good idea to buy a house like this? She didn’t need the space; it felt intimidating at first sight.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lindsey said as they got out of their cars. “It needs a little TLC, but that’s the fun of it, right? Making it your own?”

Riley swallowed hard as she looked up at her new home. She wasn’t superstitious, but something told her she’d have trouble sleeping tonight. The sweeping pillared porch expanded the full length of the house, and stone steps led up to an enormous front door. Two floors and a converted attic; six bedrooms, six bathrooms, an office, a kitchen, a living and dining room, a laundry room, and more space than she could fill with her things.

“Yes, it’s nice,” she said, already anxious at the thought of going in.

“These are yours. I’ll leave you to it.” Lindsey handed her the keys and shook Riley’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be very, very happy here.”

“Thank you.” Riley managed a smiled and waited until Lindsey was gone before she walked up the steps. She rummaged through the keys until she found one labeled “front door.”

The hallway was grand, with a wide, wooden staircase that led up to the second floor. She tried the light switch and was relieved when the chandelier sprang on. Her assistant Wendy had arranged the move, and although she would never let her move in without electricity or Wi-Fi, she was all on her own now and she’d have to figure things out for herself.

With double doors both to her right and to her left, Riley tried the right doors first, and they led into the kitchen. She opened them up entirely and secured them, then glanced around the old country-style kitchen that, as expected, needed some work. It had a certain charm to it, though, with a marble worktop and a big, ceramic sink under the middle of the three windows, plenty more workspace, two ovens, a double stove, built-in fridges, and storage against the opposite wall. The peach color of the cabinets was dated, but she could tell it had once been loved. On the kitchen island stood a vase with a big bouquet of colorful flowers, and she smiled sadly as she opened the envelope that was leaning against it.

Dear Riley,

Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve really enjoyed working for you, but I won’t deny that I’m looking forward to a long vacation.  I hope you’ll be very happy in your new home (it’s gorgeous!), and that you’ll take it easy like you’re supposed to. There’s a file on the living room table with all the info you’ll need, and I added some local takeout leaflets in the back, along with numbers of local tradesmen, as I’m sure you’ll want to update the décor. The movers only filled two bedrooms as there wasn’t enough furniture for the rest, but both beds are made, so take your pick. Take care of yourself and I’d love to know how you’re settling into Mystic.

Big hug, Wendy.

Riley felt emotional as she read it twice. She’d been close to Wendy, much closer than she liked to admit. Never one to make time for close friendships, Wendy and her team in New York had been her family, and standing in a strange kitchen that didn’t feel like her own, in a town she’d never visited before, she suddenly felt very, very alone.

She went back into the hallway and through the left doors, where the living room was situated. She’d seen it all in pictures, of course, but the sheer grandness of it still took her aback. Her own, modern furniture looked misplaced around the old fireplace, like it had been thrown back in time and didn’t know how to adjust. She didn’t have many accessories; her old apartment was slick, minimalist, and free of clutter, but she could do with some clutter now. The carpet was worn, and the walls had to be stripped and painted. She’d need bookcases to fill the alcoves, even though she had no books to put in there. What have I done? Riley felt regret of the deepest kind. Why hadn’t she just bought a beachside villa in Hawaii or a swanky condo in Florida? She could have gone anywhere, but she’d insisted on being close to New York. That was pointless; she saw that now. What did she have left there, apart from her old teammates, who were now working their asses off for someone else?

Day by day. She’d have to take it day by day. At least decorating would give her something to do and there was no rush, as she doubted she’d get many visitors. Her father? Her sister and her niece maybe? It had been years since she’d seen Jane at their mother’s funeral, and they’d barely spoken after. It only hit her then that she’d neglected everyone she’d ever been close to. Wendy was registered as Riley’s next of kin, and she’d been the one to get the call both times she’d been admitted to the hospital.

The shutters facing the backyard were open and she had to admit the view over Mystic River was spectacular. She could see the town and the harbor on the other side, and she imagined the evening light would be beautiful in summer. Still, she’d be here all alone. A small, anonymous speck on a huge plot of land along the riverbank.

Riley ran her hand over the thick, maroon-striped wallpaper and wedged a nail under a peeling seam. It came off easily as she pulled at it, and she groaned when she spotted another floral pattern underneath. This was going to take a while, but she had time. So much time.

Did you enjoy this sample? ‘Along The Mystic River’ will be out on 25/08/2023 and is available for pre-order!

Chapter 1

“Are you saying we can’t get back?” Miki looked to her tour guide, expecting him to have a back-up plan while she moved over, seeking a dry spot under the palm tree their group was holed up under. The downpour was getting worse by the minute and so was the wind that was blowing from all directions. Dark clouds were sprawled across the sky, slowly spreading, closing the few blue gaps left. “So now what?”

“Not much we can do, I’m afraid.” Niran put his phone in his pocket, then spread his arms and waved his hands, beckoning the six people who’d signed up for a day in paradise to come closer. The morning had been fun spent snorkeling and exploring the beautiful small island that was full of wildlife, but now, paradise was very, very wet. As they’d walked back to the pier where their boat would pick them up to take them back to the mainland, the skies had opened, and the wind had started raging along the southern coast of Thailand. “It’s a thunderstorm. Not the worst I’ve seen, but still, boats won’t come out in this weather.” He scratched his head and frowned. “It’s unusual for this time of year and there were no weather warnings this morning. It happens sometimes.”

“But surely we can’t stay here? There’s not even a hotel on this island!” Cathy, the most vocal person in their party, exclaimed. Her voice went up a notch as she held her phone up, trying to catch a signal. “Can’t we charter a helicopter or something? We’ll pay for it.” Richard, her husband, shot her a surprised glance but didn’t comment.

“Would you fly in this weather?” Niran laughed and raised a brow at her. “Besides, there’s nowhere to land, the jungle is too dense here, and the strip of beach too narrow.” He let out a deep sigh as he looked around the group, clearly just as disappointed with the situation as they were. “Anyone need to get to the airport tonight?”

The various members of the group looked at each other and shook their heads. “What if we did?” Rita, another woman asked.

“Then you’d have to take it up with your travel insurance because by the looks of it, we’re not going anywhere for a while.” He pointed to the tiki bar where they’d had lunch earlier. It was the only sign of life on the island, apart from a makeshift library, three cabins and a small house. “Come on, let’s get dry first. After that, we’ll figure out the rest.”

Miki followed him along with the others, not in the least bit phased by the turn of events. It was only her first week in Asia and already she’d seen monkeys in the wild and snorkeled over gorgeous reefs. Storm or no storm, being stuck on a tropical island wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her, right? Coming from Kansas—one of the most active regions in the world for tornados—a thunderstorm would be a walk in the park and since their tour guide didn’t look particularly worried, she wasn’t either.

“Anywhere you need to be tonight?” Alba, a fellow backpacker asked as she caught up with her. “Or anyone you need to get back to?” Alba was from Spain, and in her late twenties, Miki guessed. As the only other single in their group, they’d talked a little throughout the day, although their conversations had mostly consisted of comments on the reefs and the jungle during their snorkeling expedition and the two-mile hike. Outspoken and funny, she’d made Miki laugh several times, but too consumed with all the beauty surrounding them, they hadn’t gone much deeper than that. They would have more than enough time to get to know each other now, though.

Miki looked at her and noticed she had a little heart-shaped beauty mark on her cheek. “No. You?”

“No. I think I’m exactly where I need to be.” The woman tilted her head skyward and closed her eyes for a moment as the rain trickled down her face. She was attractive; shorter than Miki with an athletic physique, big brown eyes and short dark hair framing her cute face. Her huge backpack looked heavy, but she didn’t seem to have trouble carrying it as she walked up the beach with a bounce in her step. “So, are you traveling by yourself?” Her Spanish accent was strong as she spoke, but it only added to her exotic charm.

“Yeah. I’m between jobs and thought I’d explore Asia since I haven’t been here before. I have eleven weeks left and no plan, so I’ll just see where this trip takes me.” Miki smiled at the woman. “Alba, right? I’m Miki.” Although they’d introduced themselves this morning, Miki doubted the woman still remembered her name.

“I know. How could I forget?”

Miki chuckled, not sure how to reply to that. There was something about the way that Alba looked at her that made her both uneasy and giddy, and it had happened several times today. “How much longer will you be traveling?” she asked.

            “I have two months out of three left.” Alba shot her a beaming smile. “Time flies when you’re having fun; it only feels like a week since I left home. Waking up and not knowing where the day is going to take me is the best feeling. Take this for example.” She gestured to Niran and the two couples in front of them. “I was planning on taking the night bus to Bangkok to get a flight from there when we got back, but instead I’m stranded on an island with a bunch of random people and a gorgeous woman.”

            “Okay…” Miki couldn’t help but laugh, because it was pretty clear that Alba was hitting on her and that was a first. Miki was the epitome of a super straight, all-American, tall and blonde sorority girl, and no woman had ever looked at her that way. A funny feeling crept over her as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not into women.”

            Now it was Alba’s turn to laugh. “You Americans are so funny. You always want to put yourself in boxes.”

            “What’s wrong with that? I happen to like my box.” Miki arched a brow at her and crossed her arms defensively as they waited for Niran, who was talking to the bar owner.

            “Nothing. It’s just more fun to play outside every once in a while, that’s all.”

Miki was just about to reply when Niran came back with a bunch of keys.

“Okay, we’re in luck,” he said. “There’s no one else here, so you guys can take the cabins and I’ll sleep on the couch in the bar. The bar owner just told me there’s an official storm warning now, and that all travel has been suspended for the coming ten hours. But don’t worry; we have food, shelter…” He pointed to the small library. “And lots of books, so there’s no need to be bored. Please don’t go into the jungle by yourself. If you get bitten by a spider or a snake, we won’t be able to get you help right now. Rita and James; cabin number one is yours.”

“Thanks.” Rita took the key, looking worried as she glanced at the dense forest behind the cabins. “Will snakes be able to get in our rooms? Are we safe from the storm?”

“You’ll be safe if you just stay around here tonight.” Niran chuckled as he regarded the worn-out shacks posing as their accommodation because they looked like they were about to fall apart. “We get storms all the time and those cabins have clearly been here for a while so I’m sure they’ll withstand another one.” He held up a second key. “Cathy and Richard, you’re in cabin number three. And you guys will have to share one, I’m afraid,” he said, turning to Miki and Alba. “It’s either that, or one of you will have to sleep in the bar with me.”

“No problem, I’m happy to share.” Miki noted the funny feeling that coursed through her as she said it. Her painted toes curled into the sand when she looked at Alba, who simply shrugged and smiled.

“Fine by me, too.”

“Great. Thank you for being so understanding, this is beyond my control.” Niran yelled something at the bar owner, who in turn fired off a long monologue in Thai. “Okay, so we’ll have dinner at the bar at seven. There’s a toilet back there, and if you want a shower…” he laughed as he shook out his wet hair. “There’s an outside shower behind the bar, but I’m not sure if it’s of much use; it’s basically recycled rainwater so you might as well stand out here for five minutes.”

Miki opened the door to the old cabin that was built on stilts. It was made out of driftwood and was topped with a thatched palm frond roof. A small plastic window, covered by a thick layer of dust, let some much-needed light into the dark room that was basic at best. There was a double bed under the mosquito net that hung from the ceiling, one shelf, a stool, one nightstand with a lamp, and a couple of clothes hooks on the back of the door. She’d somehow expected two single beds, and the thought of sharing a bed with a stranger was a little weird, especially after the conversation they’d just had. Her eyes darted from the bed and then back to Alba to gauge her reaction.

“Hey, don’t worry.” Alba gave her an amused smirk, as if reading Miki’s mind. “I’m not going to feel you up in your sleep.”

“Of course not.” Miki sat down on the rickety stool but the minute she did, one of the legs gave in and she fell to the floor. They both laughed, relieving some of the sudden tension in the room.

“Good thing it’s just for one night,” Alba said as she helped her up, but something in her eyes told Miki she didn’t mind sharing at all. She was still laughing as she walked around the bed and put her backpack down. “I hope at least the bed holds. Can I take this side?”

“Sure.” Miki felt embarrassed and a little clumsy, standing there with nothing much to do, so she grabbed one of the towels from the shelf and started drying her long, blonde hair that was sun bleached and tangled from the saltwater. She fixed her gaze on the wall but couldn’t help peeking as Alba took off her bikini top, dried herself off and put on a white tank top.

“Okay, I’m going to turn around now so you can get changed. I promise I won’t look.” Alba let out a chuckle, and Miki felt foolish for being such a prude. They’d been snorkeling in their bikinis and had practically seen each other half naked most of the day, but getting dressed in a room with a virtual stranger was different.

“Thanks.” She quickly opened her bag, grabbed a clean T-shirt and a pair of shorts and dried herself off before changing. Then she ran a brush through her hair and put on some mascara, cursing herself for wanting to look nice. They were stranded, it would be dark soon, and it wasn’t like there was anyone she needed to impress. “Okay, I’m done.” Miki hated the sudden high pitch in her voice. She was rarely shy around people and wondered why Alba was suddenly making her feel so self-conscious.

Alba turned and glanced down at Miki’s legs in the short denim shorts. “You look nice.” She ruffled a hand through her hair, making her top creep up, and Miki found herself unable to look away. Her abs were tight, her skin tanned and smooth and the pair of tiny jersey shorts she was wearing emphasized her perky ass. “Well, I’m going to get a drink at the bar,” she continued, raising a brow when she caught Miki’s stare. “Want to join me? If we’re going to share a bed, we might as well get to know each other better, right?”

“Right.” Miki blushed at the reminder. If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost think she was enjoying Alba’s flirtatious ways. But that was crazy, she told herself, because she’d never been attracted to a woman before. “Let’s go get a drink.”

There was an awkward shuffle back and forth as they both tried to leave the cabin through the narrow space between the wall and the bed at the same time, and Alba winked when she pushed past her. A tingle erupted over Miki’s skin as their arms accidentally brushed.

Chapter 2

“Cheers.” Miki clinked her margarita against Alba’s and propped her bare feet up on the couch. The little hippie-bar had a small sheltered area with some barstools, two old couches and a big coffee table. On the walls were pictures of the bar owner and his wife with various guests, and in the corner stood a Buddhist shrine—its altar adorned with candles, burning incense, a bottle of Coke and a bowl of rice. It was charming, the way the bar was put together from all kinds of recycled things, using coconut shells as ashtrays, cans as herb pots, and stuffed old car tires as seating. The ambiance was completed with the meditative tinkling coming from a multitude of beautiful shell and bamboo wind chimes dotted around the room.

“Cheers.” Alba grimaced as she took a sip. “Fuck, this is strong.” She looked up at the bar owner, who laughed at her expression as he poured one for himself. “Prem, what the hell did you put in here?”

“Secret recipe,” Prem said, as he walked over with a handful of jars with tealights inside them. He lit them, then switched on the music and the red Christmas lights in the ceiling, before securing a heavy plastic sheet over the open front of the bar to stop the rain from blowing in. “Looks like I’m open for business tonight. Where are your friends?”

“No idea, they’re actually not our friends,” Miki said, sampling the cocktail. Alba was right; it was really, really strong. “Okay, that came out weird because they’re nice people. What I meant is that we only met this morning, for the excursion. I don’t even know my roommate,” she added, turning to Alba with a grin.

“A couple more of those and you’ll be best friends.” Prem winked and pointed to a shelf. “There are games over there, and I also have some blankets in case you get cold later. Please make yourselves at home, my wife is cooking a delicious Thai curry and I’m making another batch of margarita.”

“It’s kind of cozy here, don’t you think?” Alba said. “With the storm outside, the colored lights, the glimmering candles and the sound of the rain on the roof. I like this little place.”

“Yeah, me too.” Miki noticed the room was shaking each time it was hit by a gust of wind, making the liquor bottles rattle on the shelves behind the bar. “We’re not going to blow away, are we?”

Prem shook his head. “No. The storms here don’t get that crazy; you just don’t want to be out on the water.” He greeted Nirin, who took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer.

“Are you scared?” Alba teased, poking Miki’s arm.

“Of course not.” Miki felt her cheeks color and kicked herself for feeling shy yet again. The way Alba looked at her made her feel uncomfortable and at the same time excited, and she couldn’t decide whether to meet her eyes or to look away. Deciding to change the subject before Alba got all chivalrous and protective over her, she asked: “So, how’s your trip been so far?”

“Oh, it’s been amazing,” Alba said, her eyes lighting up. “Every day has been an adventure; I should have done this years ago. I started in Laos, then travelled through northern Thailand, which is breathtaking, and slowly made my way down here. I was about to move on and get a cheap flight from Bangkok to anywhere, really, when I passed the pier. Niran stopped me and told me there was a spot left on the snorkeling excursion, so I thought why not?” She pulled her legs up underneath her and turned to Miki, her expression turning more serious as she sipped her drink. “I finally got out of a long and toxic relationship about half a year ago, so I needed some time to myself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. I’m much better off without her.”

Miki internally flinched at the word ‘her’, but of course, she wasn’t surprised. Her flirtations aside, Alba had an energy about her that Miki had picked up on the moment she’d stepped onto the boat and sat next to her. She’d never met someone who oozed sexual energy the way Alba did. Her body language was confident, and her eyes were intensely focused on Miki when she spoke. Miki found herself staring at her sun-kissed skin and the tan lines visible on her neck from her triangle bikini, thinking how delicate the thin white lines were. Her eyes then lowered to Alba’s toned arms. She looked athletic, strong and seriously fit. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a personal trainer.” Alba noticed her stare and grinned while she flexed her biceps.

“Show-off.” Miki laughed. “But seriously, that’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s fun. I was co-owner of a gym, but my ex and I sold it when we split up.” She shrugged. “So, I had some cash, and I decided to travel a bit before I looked for another job. There are plenty of jobs going around in my field, especially in Barcelona where I’m from.” She narrowed her eyes as she studied Miki. “What do you do? I’m usually quite good at guessing but I can’t seem to gauge you.”

“I’m a junior veterinarian.” Miki took a long drink of her cocktail and it mellowed her a little. It was unheard of that she needed alcohol to make her affable, because she was usually so confident, but tonight she felt like she needed the extra help. “I’m starting at a new practice when I get back. It’s a one-year contract, for a maternity cover.”

“Nice.” Alba smiled, and Miki couldn’t help but smile too, because it was so infectious. “I take it you like animals?”

“Yeah, I love animals and I always wanted to be a vet.”

Alba stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. “Beautiful and smart. Do you have a boyfriend back in…” She paused. “Where was it you lived again?”

“Wichita, Kansas.” Miki shifted nervously, taken aback by yet another compliment. No woman had ever called her beautiful before. “And no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“And you don’t have a girlfriend either, so that makes you single,” Alba concluded with a smug look.

“That’s right. I’ve been single for two years after breaking up with my high school sweetheart. He wanted to get married, I wasn’t ready.”

“Poor boy, he must have been devastated,” Alba said with mock empathy. “So… have you ever kissed a woman?”

“No.” Miki concentrated on her drink as she tried to sound casual.

“Ever wanted to try it? Because I can assure you that it’s really, really nice.”

“Oh my God, you’re the worst.” Miki chuckled and lifted her chin to face her. She could tell by the twinkle in Alba’s eyes that she was messing with her and enjoying her startled reaction. “I believe you. It’s just not for me, but whatever floats your boat.” To her surprise, she felt a flash of arousal when Alba licked her lips.

“Okay, okay, I give up.” Alba held up a hand. “Next question. Have you met any cute guys while you’ve been traveling?”

“Not really. Have you met any cute girls?”

Alba flicked her tongue over her lips again, and it made Miki feel weird inside. “I have now.” She laughed as she slammed a hand on her thigh. “I’m so sorry; I can’t seem to help myself flirting with you today and I’m honesty not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. I keep forgetting we’re sharing a bed together tonight and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“It’s okay. I’m not scared of you,” Miki said, knowing that was a lie. She was a little scared of Alba, especially since her body had started to react to her in the strangest of ways—a frisson of excitement twisting and skittering in her stomach—a sensation she had never felt with any man. Holding up her empty glass, she parked it for later. It didn’t matter what she felt because she was straight, and she wasn’t going to go there. “Do you want another one?”

“Please.” Alba finished her drink and handed her the glass.

Miki rolled her eyes as Alba whistled while she walked to the bar. She just wouldn’t give up and Miki knew she was in for a long night of relentless flirtation. But she couldn’t deny that is was nice to feel desired again, and so she decided to take it as a compliment.

Prem looked from Miki to Alba and back, raising a brow as he poured them a refill. “See?” He said with a chuckle. “Best friends already.”

Chapter 3

Miki was grateful for the food, because the two cocktails had already gone to her head. She didn’t drink much in general, but tonight, she was enjoying the buzz it had given her. The yellow crab curry and papaya salad were delicious, and as they sat around the low table together, drinking and grazing at the leftovers, she smiled at the unexpected sense of community she felt. No one seemed to mind being stranded anymore, and even Cathy, who had been desperate to get back to their luxury hotel earlier, was now resigned to her fate after a nap and was in a great mood, singing along to a song Prem was playing on his guitar. The red Christmas lights and the flickering candles gave the bar a cozy and intimate feel now that it was dark, and she couldn’t remember when she’d last had such a good time.

Alba was still on the couch next to her, Cathy and Richard were on the other couch, and Rita, James and Niran were sitting in the car tires opposite them. The wind picked up and the bottles rattled louder, but the bar held together.

“Are you cold?” Alba asked when she noticed her shivering.

“Just a little, I’ll go get my hoodie.”

“Wait.” Alba put a hand on her knee, stopping her. Although it meant nothing, the touch sent a spark through Miki that made her feel weak in all her limbs. “I’ll grab one of these.” She stood up and reached for a fleece blanket on top of a nearby stool, then draped it over them as she sat down. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Miki felt incredibly aware of Alba’s bare arm against her own under the blanket. She thought of moving away and creating some distance, but she was worried Alba would think that she was uncomfortable around her. Although that had been the case only a couple of hours ago, she was starting to have contradictory thoughts and feelings about their sleeping arrangement and couldn’t stop looking at Alba’s lips. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Alba just had a way with straight women. She’d looked at women before, noticed they were attractive, but never in this way. Never sexually.

As if sensing the shift in her, Alba draped her arm over the backrest of the couch, resting it behind her. It was far from subtle, and it would have made Miki laugh if she wasn’t so damn nervous. Something touched her head, and she held her breath when she realized it was Alba’s hand, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger while she talked to James. Her heart started beating so violently she was afraid it would explode, because there was nothing accidental about the touch. She turned to the woman next to her who was slowly making her crazy tonight, making her doubt everything she thought to be true about herself. Alba stalled her conversation and held her gaze, gauging Miki’s reaction.

In those few seconds, Miki knew that whatever she did next, would define the course of the rest of the night. She could subtly move away from Alba and no one would know what was going on, but she didn’t want to do that. The excitement she felt was thrilling and if she was honest with herself, she felt hungry for more of whatever this was. So, she did nothing and tried to look calm while her stomach was doing summersaults.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Alba’s full lips, as if she knew she had her. The subtle look of victory was sexy as hell, and Miki realized then that ‘sexy’ was the perfect word to describe her. When Alba let go of the strand and softly raked her hand through her hair, a quiet gasp escaped Miki’s lips, and she quickly turned her attention back to the music while her heart continued to beat violently. It was just a hand in her hair, but her touch felt amazing, and it was turning her on more than any other caress ever had. Alba averted her gaze too, and started singing along, raising her glass. How could she be so blasé when Miki couldn’t even think straight? Of course, this wasn’t her first rodeo. Miki imagined her picking up girls everywhere she went and now she too, was apparently falling for her charms. Sucker.

Prem changed chords and started playing ‘Those were the days’, making Cathy squeak and jump up. Everyone laughed as she grabbed the wine bottle from the table, pretending it was a microphone, and got up on the table. If Alba hadn’t been there, Miki might have done the same, because the vibe was fantastic considering they’d only met each other this morning. Even Niran was on great form, relieved that his group was having a good time despite being stuck on an island in a thunderstorm.

Richard refilled their glasses from the large jug of margarita on the table while his wife gave the performance of her lifetime, and with everyone being distracted by Cathy, Miki took a sip for liquid courage and leaned into Alba. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time, Alba’s warm skin sending shivers through her. The thought of sleeping in the same bed together almost paralyzed her with fear, yet she could hardly wait.

Alba shot her a quick glance and pulled her closer in return, so Miki was half buried in the crook of her arm. On first sight, it didn’t look that intimate, and they could have passed for two slightly tipsy new friends having a good time, but inside Miki was burning. Maybe tonight would be the night, she thought. The night that she would step outside the safety of her box and be open and vulnerable—experience new things she simply craved. Wasn’t that partially why she’d gone traveling? To explore the world as well as herself before she dove into her responsible life as a full-time working adult? She was only twenty-seven and if she didn’t act on her desire now, she might regret it in ten years’ time when she was married and living in the suburbs with her husband, two children and a dog, wondering what if…

A finger brushed lightly over her neck, leaving no doubt about Alba’s intentions. She was seducing her. Miki started singing along too, not wanting Alba to know how much her caress affected her. God, if she felt like this from only a light touch to her neck, then what would it be like if she kissed her? Or if they… She shook it off as that thought was too much right now.

Prem played the final chord of the song, got off the barstool and leaned his guitar against the couch. “Toilet break,” he said, nodding to the jug before he walked off. “I’ll be back.”

Alba took the guitar, and although Miki missed the closeness, she also felt like she could breathe again.

“Whoo-hoo! We have another musician in the house!” Rita yelled.

Alba smiled, gave them a dramatic bow and started tuning the guitar, then turned to Miki. “Now… what would the beautiful lady like to hear?” she asked, shooting her a flirty glance. This time, the tension between them did not go unnoticed, and Cathy whistled through her teeth.

“A little romance going on here, huh?” she teased.

“Of course not.” Miki rolled her eyes and blushed profusely as all eyes were on her. She could have killed Alba for being so openly flirtatious with her, but she also felt flattered and a little giddy. “Okay…” She bit her lip, trying to suppress a grin. “Play me something Spanish.”

“You got it.” Alba strummed a couple of chords, then started playing a beautiful melody using a fingerstyle technique, plucking the strings with her short fingernails as she played. For the first time that night, everyone fell silent, listening intently to the unexpected talent in the room.

Miki hadn’t seen this coming, and when Alba started singing in a low, throaty voice, pure and full of emotion, they were all left speechless. She felt the hairs on her arms rise as the sound cut right through her. It was amazing to be able to look at Alba now, to have an excuse to indulge in her her lips and the gorgeous expression of utter concentration on her attractive face as she sang. The frown between her full brows, the small beauty mark on her left cheek, her cute and messy dark hair that was sticking out on all sides, and her biceps that flexed while she played with her eyes closed. Her fingers danced effortlessly over the strings as if it came natural to her. In that moment, the feelings that had confused Miki throughout the night made complete sense, and she knew that she wanted her.

Applause broke out when Alba finished and handed the guitar back to Prem, who had been silently listening to the last part of the song in a corner. “I think you should keep the guitar for a while,” he said, looking thoroughly impressed and even a little moved.

“Yeah, we want more!” James yelled.

Alba chuckled and shook her head. “Sorry, no more, I’ve had too much to drink but maybe next time,” she joked.

“That was beautiful,” Miki said as Alba leaned back and joined her under the blanket again. She felt Alba’s leg brush against hers as she shifted and pulled it underneath her, and she longed to be closer.

“Thank you.” Alba’s eyes had a mischievous twinkle to them.

“Ever thought of playing professionally?”

“No, that’s not for me. But I did busk my way through the sports academy. It’s incredible how much money you can make from it if you go to the right places, and Barcelona is always filled with tourists.” Alba scooted closer and put her arm back on the couch’s backrest, running her fingers through Miki’s hair again. “I love your hair.”

“I can tell.” Miki looked around to make sure no one was watching them, then wondered why she cared. It wasn’t like she’d ever see these people again. They’d gone back to singing, some even dancing, and from the looks of it, she and Alba where the most sober people here right now. Even Prem and his wife, who had joined them for dinner, were dancing and downing shots. As if by some unspoken rule, Miki and Alba had both slowed down on their drinking and helped themselves to water from the fridge. Miki wanted to remember tonight, and she suspected Alba was thinking the same. It would certainly be memorable in every way; the charming little tiki bar, the company, the food, the drinks, the music, the storm, but most of all, the electrifying sexual tension between them that was growing by the minute.

“Do you mind me playing with your hair?” Alba asked, as a flash of lightning lit up her face.

“No.” Miki lowered her gaze to Alba’s mouth, imagining things that made her quiver. “I like it.” Her eyes fluttered closed for a beat, wondering how something so simple could drive her wild with desire.

“And do you mind this?” Alba moved her other hand under the blanket and rested it on Miki’s leg.

Miki swallowed hard, taking in a quick breath at Alba’s warm hand on her skin. “No,” she whispered, and moved closer. “I don’t mind that either.” Slowly, she felt the hand run up and down, stroking her while Alba’s thumb curled around to the inside of her thigh. From the way her body reacted she was pretty sure she couldn’t take any more before she’d give away how much it was turning her on. Her breath hitched at every movement and stroke over her hypersensitive skin, and she knew Alba could feel the longing in her trembling limbs.

A powerful gust of wind blew in the plastic sheet protecting the front of the bar, and Rita and Niran rushed to pull at opposite ends of it so Richard could secure the rope ties back onto the hooks. Cheering broke out when they managed, and success was celebrated with shots.

“No thank you.” Alba shook her head and patted Prem’s shoulder when he offered her a small glass of bright blue liquid. “But I’d like to have our candlelight back.” She reached for the matches on the table and lit the candles again.

“Are you going all romantic on me now?” Miki joked, then bit her lip as she realized she was openly flirting too.

“I wouldn’t call myself a romantic, I’m more of an opportunist.” Alba leaned closer, bringing her face close to Miki’s. “And I see an opportunity here that could be beneficial for us both.”

Miki could feel Alba’s breath on her mouth, and her words lingered like they would never leave her memory. “I think I’m going to have a shower,” she said in a shaky voice, standing up abruptly. The world around her was spinning, but it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Miki smiled and noticed she wasn’t feeling cold anymore. In fact, she had to fan her face to get some air. “Just need to cool down.”

“Sure.” Alba looked her over and tilted her head, eyeing her like she was prey. “So, I’ll see you in bed?”

“Yeah.” Miki bit her lip as she backed away, returning her hungry look so there would be no ambiguity. “I won’t be long.”

Chapter 4

The room filled with tension when Alba locked the door behind her. She put her toothbrush in her toiletry bag and threw her towel in a corner, leaving her in a pair of white boy shorts and a tank top.

“Pretty interesting shower, huh?”

“Yeah.” Miki chuckled. “I was terrified of stepping on a snake earlier; it’s so dark back there. She stared up at Alba from the bed, her body trembling with anticipation as she took in her subtle curves through the mosquito net. It was warm and stuffy in the cabin, and even after a cold shower, she could feel sweat pearling on her forehead. She liked the heat because it reflected her mood; burning, sweltering, the fire inside of her raging and unstoppable. The sound of Cathy’s loud voice in the distance made them laugh as Alba joined her in bed. “I don’t think they’ll go to sleep any time soon.”

“No.” Alba smiled and turned on her side to face her. “But I don’t think you will either.”

“Oh…” Miki’s breath hitched at the comment, but she didn’t look away. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned on her side too. “And why is that?”

“Because I intend to keep you up all night.” Alba’s smile widened as she moved closer until their bodies almost touched. Miki could feel the heat radiating between them and didn’t dare make another move. “Come on, I know you want to. I’ve seen you looking at me, and you certainly didn’t mind me touching you.” She paused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind? We’ve sobered up a little, and I know you’re not into women.” She arched a teasing brow as she reached out to trace Miki’s cheek. “You’ve told me that like a million times.”

Miki laughed; the sound drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Good.” Alba took Miki’s hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it softly. “I must have done something right to get so lucky, being stranded here with you.”

Miki wanted to reply, but she gasped instead as Alba ran her tongue over her middle finger, then sucked it into her mouth. “Jesus…” The touch of her tongue made her squirm, and she fought to keep her eyes open because the sight was incredibly sexy, and she wanted to remember the look on Alba’s face. She looked as turned on as Miki felt, her eyes hazy and dark, never leaving her.

“Do you like that?” Alba’s asked in a low whisper, her voice full of longing and promise. She kept Miki’s fingers pressed against her lips, then sucked them into her mouth until Miki moaned softly.

Miki knew she was teasing her, making her crave her until she couldn’t take it anymore. And she was just about there. “Please kiss me,” she said, holding her breath when Alba finally cupped her face. The first touch of her lips sent a surge of energy through Miki, and it settled between her thighs. She felt her pulse there, like a throbbing need, and when Alba parted her lips and claimed her mouth with her tongue, it awoke a passion in her she didn’t know was there. Her lips were soft and cushiony, her tongue so sensual, and Miki kissed her back with a curious slowness, exploring her delicious mouth as Alba’s heart drummed against her chest, rapidly like her own. Everything about her flooded Miki’s senses; her feminine smell and feel, the silkiness of her hair as she ran her fingers through it, their mingling breaths, her need… Heat started curling within her as Alba added more pressure to their lips, deepening the kiss.

A hand worked its way around Miki’s waist, drifting to her hip, leaving a warm glow where it had been before resting on her behind. The slight squeeze was all it took to make her thrust her hips forward and moan louder, letting Alba know she wanted it all. Their needs collided like the raging storm banging on the sides of the cabin and the rain lashing against the roof, growing like the rolling thunder.

Alba shifted and lowered herself on top of her, covering Miki’s body with her own. The feeling of her weight was intoxicating, and the next kiss that followed made her head swim. She was baffled by how perfectly their lips fitted, how their limbs slotted like they were made for each other. A throaty moan escaped her as the thigh between her legs pushed against her center. She was wet, throbbing, desperate to be touched, and she spread her legs apart, offering herself up as Alba ran her lips down her neck and back up, then kissed her fiercely once more. Entranced by the slow and sexy kiss, she moved her hands away from Alba’s hair, the softness of her skin caressing her fingertips as she explored her shoulders and her back. It felt divine, and even though she understood her own body, experiencing the touch of another woman’s curves was something else entirely.

“Are you okay?” Alba asked as she lifted her head to look at her.

“Yeah.” Miki dug her nails into her back, needing her closer, needing more. “I want you,” she whispered.

A sexy smile painted Alba’s face as she lifted Miki’s T-shirt, baring her full breasts. “You’re so incredibly sexy,” she murmured, running her tongue over her hardened nipple. Miki arched her back and groaned when she sucked it into her mouth and twirled her tongue around it. Seeing Alba do that to her was the most sensual and arousing sight she’d ever witnessed. Her breasts were so sensitive, and already she felt a tightness building in her core as she let go of all hesitation and simply drifted into ecstasy.

Alba lowered her hand between them, and a low whimper passed her lips as she slid it inside Miki’s panties and felt her wetness coat her fingers. “God, you feel so good.”

Miki bucked her hips and threw her head back, the light touch so intense that it made her crazy in the best of ways. Alba’s fingers slipped through her folds, tracing her up and down until she was writhing and moaning, squirming in euphoria. A finger slowly entered her, then another, drawing a cry from her mouth. She pulled Alba’s face down to kiss her because she wanted all of her and nothing seemed enough.

Alba moved sensually against her as she started fucking her at a lazy pace, changing Miki’s breathing with every thrust while she pressed her hips and her body hard into Miki’s. It felt beyond perfect, and Miki could do nothing but welcome the trembles that shook her body while they moved in sync, so perfectly harmonious. When Alba curled her fingers and touched a spot inside her she didn’t even know was there, Miki exploded. She clung onto Alba, held her as tight as she could while her orgasm washed over her. It didn’t compare to the sex she’d had in the past, and it didn’t feel how she’d imagined it would feel. It was so much better, so much more intense, but most of all, it felt right. Their eyes locked as aftershocks coursed through her, and the way Alba looked at her and held her in return was so intimate that it brought a lump to her throat.

“Wow,” she whispered, catching her breath as she ran a hand over Alba’s face.

Alba gave her a smile that made her feel a million things in a split second. “Wow?” She slowly retracted her fingers and rolled onto her side, pulling Miki in for a long hug. “Wow is good, right?”

“Yeah. It’s very, very good.” Miki wedged her hand under Alba’s top and ran it up and down her back while she buried her face in her neck, drinking in her scent. She traced her waist and moved back a little, continuing to explore her stomach and her breasts. The hard nipples under her fingertips made her take in a quick breath, and she tugged at the fabric of the tank top, craving Alba’s skin against her own. She wanted her with every fiber of her being and was possessed with a yearning so strong that it almost scared her. “Can I take this off?” There was a tremble to her voice as she spoke.

Alba nodded and lifted her arms so she could take it off, and Miki’s lips parted in awe as she looked her over. She moved closer and closed her eyes when their bodies came together, the contact sending her to even greater heights. Yes, this felt right, and yes, she needed this.

Chapter 5

At first, it seemed eerily silent when Miki woke up. There were no sounds of stormy winds, or thunder, or heavy rain on the roof, but as she lay there quietly, other sounds came through. Birdsong, the crashing of the ocean, a screech—from a monkey, maybe? Voices… she checked her phone. It was 8 am, which was late for her. The previously dark cabin wasn’t shaking on its stilts anymore, and it even looked quite charming in the light of day. Sunshine was streaming through the small window, and everything was back to normal.

Well, not everything. She glanced at Alba, who was sleeping beside her and let out a deep sigh. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to feel when she woke up, but it certainly wasn’t this. The butterflies that swarmed around in her core were relentless, and despite her slight hangover she was buzzing and still on a high from last night.

Alba stirred, and Miki couldn’t keep her eyes off her as she woke up slowly. The woman was so breathtakingly gorgeous that she could have stayed there forever, simply taking her in. They were still on top of the covers, and she marveled at Alba’s curves and her full breasts. Her hands had been there, and her mouth; something that would have seemed unthinkable only twenty-four hours ago. She’d explored every inch of her, and the memory of that sent a wave of arousal through her. Now, she wanted to touch her again, and the need to do so was almost too strong to fight.

“Hey there,” Alba said, her eyes still closed. She blinked a couple of times, then brought her hands to her temples, grimacing as she licked her lips. “Do you have water?”

Miki handed her the bottle from her nightstand and watched her sit up and down half of it.

“That’s better.” Alba wiped her mouth and smiled before she sunk back into the pillows and turned to her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Miki had no idea what to say, so she pretended to be sleepy, too.

“How long have you been watching me?” Alba asked with a mischievous look.

“I wasn’t watching you.” Miki felt heat rise to her cheeks and buried her face in her pillow, hiding her grin.

“Yes, you were,” Alba said in a playful tone. She wrapped an arm around Miki and pulled her closer. “And now I’m going to watch you while you…” She lowered her hand between Miki’s legs, then shot up as they heard a knock on the door.

“Ladies, are you in here?” Niran yelled.

“We’re here!” Miki shouted back in a high-pitched tone as Alba quickly pulled her hand away and covered herself with a pillow.

“Okay. We’ve got a pick-up in two hours, so make sure you’re ready. There’s breakfast at the bar if you’re hungry.” They held their breath until they heard his footsteps move down the steps, then burst into hysterical laughter. The voices outside grew louder; good mornings being exchanged and then someone shouting something about coffee.

“Maybe we should join them.” Miki looked at the fragile sliding lock on the door, expecting one of them to barge in at any moment. “Unless you can be really, really quiet,” she added with a smile, tugging the sheet from underneath them and covering them with it. She’d had a taste of Alba and she wanted more while she still had her. The longing in her core hadn’t settled one bit, and already, she was on fire again.

“I think you’re the one who needs to be quiet.” Alba shot her a mischievous grin and rolled on top of her, then pulled the sheet over her head as she moved down Miki’s body.

“Ouch, why is everything so bright?” Alba winced against the sun as they came out and she hastily put on her Ray-Bans. A table was set up in front of the bar, where the rest of their group was feasting on a breakfast of fresh fruit and fried rice.

“Lovebirds!” Cathy shouted, then burst out in laughter.

“Come on, guys, stop making stuff up.” Alba sat down and patted the seat next to her at the end of the table.

“Good morning.” Miki rolled her eyes and chuckled, but otherwise ignored Cathy’s remark. She’d hoped the woman would be a little more subtle now that she was sober, but the opposite was true. “You guys look suspiciously chirpy after those shots,” she said, then looked over the table. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you, Prem.”

“Amazing indeed, but guess what?” Richard looked beat. “There’s no coffee.”

“No coffee?” Alba exclaimed dramatically. “Oh no, what are we going to do?” Although she was joking, Miki could see a hint of panic in her eyes, and she knew the feeling all too well. She didn’t function without coffee in the morning either, which was the reason why she always carried a jar of instant coffee with her.

“Do you have boiling water?” she asked Prem, who nodded and shot her a hopeful look.

“Yes. I normally have coffee too, but someone left the can open and there are bugs in it, so I can’t serve it.”

“No worries, I have some.” Miki went back to fetch the liquid gold that was sure to make everyone very happy and was rewarded with applause when she returned.

“Thank you for saving the morning,” Prem said, eagerly dishing out the coffee before pouring boiling water into the mugs.

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do in return for such a great night.” Miki sat down next to Alba, who had already plated some fruit for her, and took in a deep breath as she gazed over the spectacular shoreline. The island truly was paradise and now that the sun was out and the sand had dried, it had returned to its iconic white color that stood beautifully against the azure blue of the ocean. Palm trees were quietly rusting in the breeze and the monkeys who were sneaking around, hoping to get their hands on the fruit, were hugely entertaining. Laughter filled the air as Miki and Alba caught up on last night’s happenings after they’d gone to bed.

“God, I don’t know why I’m on such good form,” Rita said, and moaned as she took the first sip of her coffee. “I think I might still be drunk.”

“I think you’re all still drunk.” Miki stirred sugar into her coffee as she studied each and every one of them with an amused smile. Cathy had mascara stains under her eyes and her blonde, curly hair was sticking out on one side where a big knot had formed. Richard was wearing her diamanté-studded shades and a towel around his waist. Rita and James were wearing the same clothes as last night; James’ T-shirt was covered in blue stains and Rita’s top had a cigarette burn at the shoulder. Niran was only wearing his swimming trunks, still dripping wet from a recent swim, and he was in good spirits too, the goofy grin never leaving his face as he ate his breakfast. Prem and his wife were showered and dressed and looked like they were in a reasonable state, but then again, they did own a bar and probably dealt with situations like this on a regular basis.

“Oh girls, you missed out,” Rita said, snickering as she told them about how Cathy had taken on the challenge of snorting port, which sounded awfully painful and unhealthy. She shot Miki a curious glance, then turned to Alba. “So, did you guys sleep well?” She articulated the word ‘sleep’, drawing it out mockingly, making quote marks in the air.

Alba looked as innocent as a little lamb while she sipped her coffee. “I slept like a log, thank you.”

“I slept great, too.” Miki tried to act nonchalant, but failed to stop her cheeks from turning red, and that led to even more entertainment, with quiet chuckles going around the table. “What?” she asked, her eyes widening as everyone burst out in uncontrollable laughter.

“Whatever you say, darling.” Cathy winked at her, then nodded to the shore. A boat was approaching, by the looks of it, headed for the pier. “I think our ride is here.” She patted Richard on his shoulder. “Could you go and get our luggage, dear?” The bracelets around her wrists were clinking as she stood up and rubbed her forehead. “Oh boy, I think my hangover is kicking in. I’ve rarely had so much fun, though. You’ve all been a blast and I don’t say that lightly.”

“Same,” Rita said. “But getting back to our beautiful condo in Phuket and having a real shower isn’t going to be so bad either. Where are you two heading?” she asked Miki and Alba.

“Cambodia, I think,” Alba said. “Or any other interesting and pretty place the budget airlines will take me.” She turned to Miki. “You?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll figure it out once I get Wi-Fi and have a look at my options.” It hit Miki then that she was about to say goodbye, and that made her stomach drop. Her short stay had been unforgettable, perhaps even life-changing, and she had Alba to thank for that.

As the boat moored at the pier and Niran sprinted over to help the boatman secure it, she wished time would slow down, so she could steal another moment with the gorgeous woman who’d made her feel all kinds of things she wasn’t used to. It was all so new and raw and wonderful, and the constant flutter in her belly made her feel alive like never before. Alba looked downcast too as they stood up to get their things, but she didn’t say anything to indicate she wanted to spend more time together either.

Back in the cabin, as they got ready to depart, Miki watched her sling the backpack over her shoulder and again, she felt that flutter, a tug to be near her, to kiss her.

“Wait.” As if reading her mind, Alba took hold of Miki’s wrist when they were about to leave the cabin, and gently pushed her against the closed door. “Thank you,” she whispered, bringing her mouth close to Miki’s. “I really mean that.”

“I think I should be the one to thank you,” Miki said, melting as their eyes locked. She half expected Alba to come out with a joke about turning her gay, but instead she leaned closer, and her smile faded.

“I won’t forget this.” She pressed her mouth to Miki’s, cupped her face and kissed her long and deep.

Miki closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Alba’s neck, savoring the feel of her body and the all-consuming kiss. Their last kiss. No one had kissed her like Alba, like she was everything that mattered in that moment. In the distance someone called their names and she regretfully pulled away. “I won’t forget either.”

Chapter 6

The boat crashed over a wave and Miki was thrown against the seat in front of her. Her eyes fluttered at the wind whipping around her face and the splatter of water as it washed over the sides, the persistent droplets cooling her warm skin. Rita, James, Richard and Cathy cheered when the mainland came into sight, but she was unable to share their enthusiasm, and wished they’d had more time on the island. Suddenly, one night didn’t seem nearly enough, because that one night had been unforgettable, and she had no idea what to do with all the feelings that were making her restless, and the questions and thoughts that were now running through her mind. Alba was next to her, but the engine was so loud that that they hadn’t exchanged a word in the twenty minutes they’d been on the water. When the boat slowed and the engine settled down to a steady hum, she took Miki’s hand and wrapped it firmly in her own.

Miki turned to her and swallowed hard, surprised by the intimate gesture. Alba didn’t seem like the hand holding type, and it touched her.

“Do you mind?” Alba asked, looking down at their hands as she entwined their fingers.

“No.” Miki smiled and tightened her grip, her insides turning to mush within seconds. This woman had her swooning over her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “I thought you said you weren’t romantic.”

Alba chuckled. “Yeah well, I lied.” She pulled a lock of hair behind Miki’s ear and stroked her cheek with her thumb, ignoring the curious looks from the others in their group. “I ehm… I never asked you for your number,” she said. “But if you want to leave it like this, I totally understand.”

Miki’s face pulled into a huge grin, her heart skipping a beat as she shook her head. “No, I’d love to exchange numbers.” Alba looked relieved and the vulnerability in her voice was beyond cute. She took Alba’s phone and entered her details. “Message me so I have your number, too. I’d love to know what you’re up to.”

“Thank you.” Alba sent her a message and put her phone back in her backpack. “Done.” She hesitated as they docked, opening her mouth, then closing it again as if she wanted to say something more but decided against it.

“Are you staying here tonight, or are you moving on right away?” Miki asked, hoping they could have a coffee together because right now, she’d do anything to be with her for another hour or two.

“I’m not sure yet. I think I’ll head for the ferry terminal. Niran told me I could take a ferry to Cambodia from here, so I want to check the timetable. You?”

“I’m going to look for a place to spend the night. I’d love to have a real shower.”

Alba laughed. “With real soap and shampoo. That sounds good.” She got up and helped Miki out of the boat, then jumped onto the pier herself. Their conversation was interrupted by hugs and goodbyes, their new friends keen on exchanging numbers too.

Miki gave Alba a long, tight hug while the others were discussing where to meet up for dinner later. When she let go, Alba pulled her back in and surprised her by kissing her so fiercely that she almost lost her breath. Suddenly, it turned really quiet around them, but she didn’t care. It felt right and perfect, and she could have kissed her forever.

“Sorry about that. Seems like I just can’t get enough of you,” Alba whispered in her ear before stepping away. She chuckled as the others started cheering and clapping, delighted to have their suspicions confirmed.

“That’s okay,” Miki said with a goofy grin. “I had a really great time and I’d love to stay in touch.”

“We will.” Alba stared at her for a moment, before shaking her head and turning on her heel, waving at them.

Miki swallowed hard as she watched her walk away. It was silly to get upset over a one-night stand, but it wasn’t that simple for her. Alba might have been the first woman she’d ever had sex with but she was certainly not just any woman to her. After only one night, she was already crushing on her and to her, that was unheard of.

“Go on, stop her,” Cathy said, sensing her internal turmoil.

Miki frowned as she turned to her. Was it really that obvious? “How? I mean, what do I say?”

“I don’t know.” Cathy waved her hands, ushering her to go after Alba. “Anything you can think of. Just follow your heart.”

Miki bit her lip as she hesitated, lingering on the spot. “It seems a little weird.”

“Just do it. What have you got to lose?” Cathy raised her voice like a pre-school teacher and gave her an encouraging nudge. “Hurry up, she’s getting away.”

At that, Miki sprinted off, quickening her pace as she followed Alba. “Wait.” She decided to shout as Alba started to head into the distance. “Alba, wait!” Miki was terrified of her reaction and prepared to be disappointed, but she was relieved to see that Alba’s face lit up when she stopped and turned. “Wait… just a moment… please,” she said between breaths as she caught up.

“What’s up?” Alba tilted her head and studied her. “Did I forget something?”

“Yeah. Me.” Miki bit her lip and paused, her hands shaking with nerves. “Can I… uhm… Can I come with you?”

“You want to come with me?”

“Yeah. Just for a little while, or until you get sick of me.” Miki let out a nervous chuckle. “I get it if you’re not interested, but I just need you to know that I’d really, really like to spend more time with you.”

“Really?” Alba took her hand, relief flooding her features. “I’d love to spend more time with you too, but I didn’t think you were interested since I’m a woman and…” Her words were dampened by Miki’s mouth on hers.

“I don’t care if you’re a woman,” Miki mumbled against her mouth. “You’re amazing and I like you and I want you and that’s all you need to know.”

“You sound like you’ve finally stepped out of your box,” Alba said, lacing her fingers through Miki’s hair.

“I think I have.” Miki leaned into her touch and felt her heart jump. “Thank God for that storm.” 

Only twenty-four hours ago, she’d boarded a boat with the promise of a fun-filled day, and she’d gotten way more than she’d bargained for. Twenty-four hours ago, the idea of being with a woman was unthinkable but here she was, begging for more time with Alba, who made her feel alive, happy and desired.

Alba took her hand as they walked off the pier and into town, the noise from the traffic overwhelming compared to the quiet island they had just come from. “So, now that we’ve established that you’re coming with me, where do you want to go?

Mikki shrugged. “I don’t care. Even stranded on an island in a tropical storm was a perfect day with you.”

“Okay, in that case, let’s start with a shower and a coffee. How does that sound?”

“Throw in a hotel room and you’ve got yourself a date.” Miki smiled seductively, tightened her grip on Alba’s hand and swiftly turned her in the direction of the closest hotel.

Chapter 1 – Olivia

Tonight is quiet for a change, and I needed that after a hectic weekend. The extra shifts are exhausting, but needs must. I’ve just moved into a private studio and had to pay a hefty security deposit. In a few weeks, my bank balance will be in the green again, and I can go back to normal, working five nights a week instead of six or seven.

I miss being on the receiving end of service and never thought I’d be in this position, yet here I am, serving people. Rich people. I used to be one of them, the ones who don’t have to think about how much they spend. I ordered Champagne by the bottle and flew to the Maldives on a whim if I felt like it. Always first class and only the best hotels with butler service. My assistant was at my heel at all times, making anything I wanted happen. Marisa was invaluable, and I didn’t appreciate her enough when she was around. I wonder what she would think of me now.

It’s sad how life can change in a heartbeat, and how money dictates what place we earn in society. I never thought about this before; I took my fortune for granted. Isn’t that what everyone does?

A Middle Eastern man walks in, flanked by two beautiful women. They’re tall, the model kind of tall. He looks entitled and barely notices me as he brushes past me and tries to open the door to no avail. It’s always locked and I’m their key.

“Good evening, sir. Name?” I ask. “Do you have a reservation?” There’s normally a hostess at the door, but she’s off on Mondays and Tuesdays, as it’s generally quiet, so tonight it’s my turn to vet the guests.

“No,” he barks at me. “Don’t you know who I am?”

I’ve heard that sentence more times than I can count, and in the past, I may have even used it once or twice myself.

“I apologize, I don’t,” I say with a polite smile, straightening by back and meeting his eyes. “If you would be so kind as to tell me your name, I’ll have a look in the system.”

“Ahmad.” His body language tells me he’s the impatient kind, so I scroll through my iPad, check his photograph, and confirm he’s a member.

“Of course. Please come in. My colleague will give you a great table, and I’ll be with you shortly.”

He doesn’t answer and sighs when I type in the security code wrong twice, costing him a whopping five seconds of his life. I open the door wide, and he storms in with a huff, giving me a look as to say, I’ll make sure you get fired for being so incompetent.

They won’t fire me, though, I’m too valuable for the club. As someone who used to be wealthy, I know how their members like to be treated, and I’m completely unimpressionable when it comes to celebrities and millionaires. Some I recognize, some I don’t, but my welcome is always the same, and I will never flinch or ask someone for a selfie. Not that I could even if I wanted to. Before I clock in, I hand my phone over to the head of security, who keeps it in a safe until my shift ends. That way, the staff is unable to tip off paparazzi or message their friends if someone of great importance comes in.

It’s the very reason this club is so successful. The VIP members enter through the staff entrance, and the front door is often locked with the “closed” sign turned. The blinds are down, and time is not a concept here. Day or night, the lights are dimmed, and the biggest spender gets the remote for the music system to play whatever they please. It’s the unspoken privilege that shows other members who’s the boss for the night, the holy grail that holds the ultimate power in the most ridiculous of ways.

The smell of shisha hangs thick in the air. Apple, double mint, black mist, and more flavors I can’t quite identify because they all blend into one thick smog of choking sweetness that penetrates my nostrils before I close the all-important door again. Smoking cigarettes is prohibited, but we offer the best of the best cigars and shisha, along with an exclusive selection of cocktails, wines, Champagnes, rare teas and coffees, and strong liquors.

If our members want something, we make it happen, down to the most surreal requests. If a VIP wants to bring in their pet goat, it’s our job to make sure their goat is comfortable and doesn’t disturb other members, no matter what. It can be challenging, but the tips are generous and the only reason I’m able to keep my head above water. The goat incident was a few weeks ago. When I failed to find fresh hay after midnight, I called Mark, my roommate at the time, to bring some over, as he had a house bunny and kept a big bag in the pantry.

Mostly, our clients’ demands are more manageable than that. Requests such as a specific flower on top of a dessert or adorning one of the private lounges with white candles or healing crystals is more common.

I’m just about to head inside the lounge and swap places with my colleague, so I’m on the serving end of the process when the security guard brings in a woman. She’s tall, almost as tall as Sergei, who’s the size of a barn door. Dressed in a pair of joggers and a hoodie, she looks nothing like our usual female members, who tend to rock up in high heels and revealing dresses. Her hood is pulled over her head like she’s either cold or hiding, and her hands are buried deep in her pockets.

“Good evening. Welcome to Annapurna,” I say and smile when she slides down her big shades to greet me back. Her eyes are dark, almost black, with long lashes and a perfectly arched eyeliner. Other than that, she wears no makeup, and her skin is smooth and flawless apart from a beauty mark on her left cheek. “Can I have your name, please?”

“Aisha.” The woman smiles back at me. “Aisha Al Zahid. I haven’t reserved a table; the hostess told me to check with you. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. It’s quiet tonight.” I pause when I read the notes in her profile. As a diamond member, she holds the highest status, and it’s unusual for diamond members to show up without entourage. “For one?”

“Yes, please.” Aisha puts her shades back on. If she’s famous, I wouldn’t know, but she doesn’t strike me as a celebrity.

I type in the security code and let her in, then gesture for my colleague to switch with me and take over the door. “In the back?” I ask, sensing she craves privacy.

“Yes, the back would be great, if the table on the right is free.” Aisha follows me and takes a seat on the velvet sofa. She waves a hand when I’m about to pass her the menu. “I don’t want food. Just shisha, a glass of crushed ice, and a teaspoon, please.”

She’s polite, and that’s refreshing, but the crushed ice confuses me. I’ve learned not to second-guess strange requests,though, so I nod. “Of course. Do you know what shisha you want, or would you like me to send over an expert?”

“I’ll have a blueberry, apple, and mint,” she says, leaning back and making herself comfortable. She props her leg up and rests her elbow on her knee like she’s at home, chilling in front of the TV. “That’s all.”

I linger for a moment, knowing I’ll have to bring up the minimum charge. “It’s three hundred for an hour’s sitting. That’s the minimum charge,” I say. On top of the £18,000 membership fees a year, this can be a ridiculous sum if someone only orders a cup of crushed ice, and understandably, some members don’t agree with that, so it’s better to let them know in case they haven’t read the small print.

“I know. Don’t worry about it…” Her eyes dart down to the name tag on my chest. “Olivia…”

Our eyes meet for a split second, and the contact makes me flinch. Her stare is so intense, almost invading, as if she’s reading my mind. It’s like she senses my fascination with her, and she likes that.

“Okay, Miss Al Zahid. It won’t be long.” I clear my throat. “Apologies. Is it Mrs. Al Zahid?”

Aisha laughs and shakes her head. “Definitely not. Just call me Aisha,” she says with an amused smile.

Chapter 2 – Aisha

It’s good to be back in London. I’ve missed my apartment and this club, which is like a second home to me. I’ve missed the rain, the chill, the crowds, and the grittiness of the city that even extends to the most exclusive neighborhoods. I like that London is unpolished. It’s like a raw diamond, far from perfect but with immense potential. Under the matt surface lies great beauty, and the city is layered and full of surprises. I’ve missed my tracksuits, my trainers, and being anonymous. Blending in gives me a sense of comfort and freedom that I’m unable to find at home. Most of all, though, I’ve missed women. The thrill of the hunt, the feeling of their warm skin and their curves, their cries of pleasure and the blissful high after a conquest.

A few weeks from now, I’ll probably miss my father and my country again, but that’s the way it’s always been, and I’ve accepted that. There’s no such thing as perfection in life, but I’ve managed to get pretty damn close to happiness, and that’s more than I could have hoped for.

The new waitress is stunning, so I try not to stare as she walks around and takes orders. She carries herself well; she’s statuesque without trying, and unlike most other staff members, she’s naturally elegant and poised. Olivia knows her stuff. Pretending to be on my phone, I’ve been listening in, and she’s familiar with all the exclusive products on the menu. New waiters often struggle, but she’s flawless in her communication and didn’t even blink when I asked for my regular order of crushed ice. The combination of shisha and crushed ice is my guilty pleasure, and I savor it like good food. The cold against my tongue alternated by the sensation of sweet smoke is delightful, so why change a winning formula?

I don’t drink alcohol, and I certainly don’t use drugs. It wasn’t part of my upbringing, and I’ve never felt the need to try it, not even now that I’m free to do as I please to a certain extent. From what I’ve seen, it often brings out the worst in people. I’m far from perfect, but at least I won’t fall into that trap. No, my pleasures in life are far more innocent. Shisha, crushed ice, mint tea, and women.

Scanning my dating app that I haven’t used for a while, I’m pleased to see over a hundred gay women signed up since I last looked. It’s a private app for wealthy people like me, and it saves us from filtering out the gold diggers. I have no interest in being someone’s savior, at least not in the romantic sense. I just want to have fun with like-minded women who are discreet and, like me, have a lot to lose if our sexual orientation becomes public knowledge.

Khadija, the first woman to appear on my phone, is cute, but she looks a little too wholesome for me, like she’s got her shit together and is now looking for someone to complete her life and live happily ever after. I may be wrong, but my intuition rarely lets me down. Wholesome generally equals trouble because they have what they want and now they want more. The forever kind of more.

I swipe left and study Cassidy’s profile. Cassidy is a heart surgeon, which tells me she’s just above the minimum yearly income required to qualify for the app. She probably has very little time to socialize, and I suspect this is the only way for her to meet women. Reading her tagline, “married to my job,” I decide she’s safe enough for a casual hookup and give her a heart.

The rest seem uninspiring or they’re simply not my type. I love feminine women; women who like to take care of themselves and wear lingerie and heels. Women like Olivia. She has a sway in her hips when she walks, but I’m sure it’s unintentional. She doesn’t strike me as someone who works here to bag herself a wealthy man. Or woman. The ones who do—even though they’d never admit to that, as they could lose their job—tend to wear more makeup and look like they’re trying harder. They have a subtle, flirty demeanor about them that lies just, but only just, within the acceptable boundaries of interaction between waiter and member. There’s no sign of that with Olivia. Not with me and not with the male guests.

I’m not usually this fascinated with staff, but there’s something about her that draws me in. Not the staff, Aisha. Stick to your app, I remind myself. I don’t even know if she’s gay, but it’s not out of the question. Not that I care all that much. It’s not hard to seduce straight women; the majority are usually open to a fling. They tend to be surprised when I flirt with them, but that surprise often comes with a hint of curiosity. Their first reply will be that they’re straight, followed by a nervous chuckle or a bad joke. But they rarely leave, and that’s when I know their interest is growing and that they’ll be in my bed by the end of the night.

Forcing my gaze away from Olivia and turning back to my phone, I continue to scroll for unavailable women. It’s something I never do back home in Dubai, mainly because I’d worry for the women I’d meet up with. Someone might see us, or their families or husbands may read their messages and find out. That could have lifelong consequences for them, and I don’t want to be responsible for ruining someone’s life over a night that essentially means very little to me.

Jetlag is kicking in and I stifle a yawn. It’s too early to go to bed, but I have no energy to head out, so I guess slouching here for a while is my only option if I want to stay awake for a few more hours. I like Mondays at Annapurna. It’s quiet, and the music isn’t too loud. I notice Darryl, the manager has made some changes to the interior while I’ve been away, and I like the new rack on the wall that’s filled with international newspapers and magazines. There’s a Gulf Today on there too, and I suspect he’s ordered it for me. Darryl’s considerate like that and a good man.

“I like what you’ve done,” I say, pointing to the rack as he comes to greet me.

“Thank you. It’s good to have you back.” He smiles as he runs a hand through his gray, shoulder–length hair that he immaculately straightens like a woman. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes. I see you have a new waitress.”

He nods. “She’s good. I’m very happy with her.” Darryl is about to sit down for a chat with me when his phone rings. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s been going nonstop today. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Chapter 3 – Olivia

Aisha is smoking shisha and eating her crushed ice. She savors it like she genuinely enjoys the combination. I try not to stare at her, but it’s hard not to. When she pulls down her hood, a waterfall of long, black hair falls over her shoulders, and I don’t even think she knows how beautiful she is when she runs a hand through it. She has full, pouty lips, all natural from the looks of it, and the beauty mark on her cheek. Unlike other members, she’s on her phone, minding her own business. She doesn’t scan the premises to establish who is who, and she doesn’t show off. I mean, come on. Crushed ice is hardly Champagne, but she eats it like it’s a delicacy; small bites in between drags from her shisha, and that’s intriguing. I can’t say I’ve ever craved crushed ice before, but after watching Aisha, the idea is growing on me.

Ahmad, who is sitting in the back section close to her, beckons me over. “What is this?” he asks, pointing to the three shot glasses in front of him and the two women at his table.

I’m not sure what he’s referring to, so I look at him quizzically. “Excuse me?”

“Is this Don Julio 1945 tequila? Because it doesn’t taste like it.”

“I can assure you it is,” I say, checking my order in the system. The bartender never makes mistakes, and I trust him blindly. I pick up Ahmad’s shot glass and sniff. It’s not the most conventional way to confirm a tequila brand, but I need to know that I’m right. Members get confused all the time, especially when they’ve had a few drinks and simply feel like being difficult, so I’ve learned not to take anything they say at face value. “Yes, it’s 1945.” This happens to be my favorite tequila, even though I haven’t had the pleasure of drinking it since I had to severely tighten the knot on my spending. The hint of vanilla lingers, and even without tasting it, I know quality when I when I smell it.

“Oh, really? And how would you know the difference between a good tequila and the house equivalent?”

I take a moment to compose myself so I won’t insult him because right now, I really want to. To Ahmad, I’m just a disposable waitress with no class and no intelligence. I’m here to put orders into my iPad and keep my head down. It’s difficult, but I manage. Not once have I been rude to people on the job, and when I feel like punching someone in the face, I go into the shisha kitchen for a few minutes and take a few deep breaths. Months of holding back has taught me a lot of things about myself, and one of them is that I don’t cope well with being disrespected. Incidents often keep me awake at night. I’ve taken a total dislike to people in general, and I often find them disgusting, but I’ve also learned that I’m incredibly resilient, and deep down, I’m secretly proud of myself for coping with my situation the best I can.

“How about we bring out a new bottle and pour you a fresh glass?” I finally suggest, ignoring his snarky comment.

“That will do,” he says with a huff, waving me off as if I’m some kind of beggar blocking his view.

When I send a note to the bartender, I can feel eyes on me, and as I look up for a beat, Aisha, who’s been watching me, quickly turns back to her phone. I have no idea if the commotion bothers her or if she feels sorry for me, but it doesn’t matter. At this point in my life, and for the foreseeable future, we are worlds apart and therefore we don’t mingle. Staff and guests never mingle. It’s the number one rule.

One of the runners comes in with the bottle and a fresh shot glass, and I continue to take orders from the twelve or so other guests while he keeps Ahmad busy. The club is small and intimate compared to other exclusive venues, and on a quiet night, I can easily handle the two lounges by myself. Created with the purpose of ultimate discretion, no one will ever be seen walking in or out of Annapurna unless they want to. The VIP entrance at the back of the building spirals through an office basement. It’s far from glamorous, but I guess passing file cabinets and old printers makes it all the more exciting, and paparazzi will never see guests entering if they prefer to be anonymous.

I order peony tea and milk rose cake for a couple in a corner and a bottle of Chablis, dried fruit and nuts and a bowl of gold-leaf-covered popcorn for three Frenchmen engaged in a business meeting, then turn back to my difficult client who is demanding my attention again.

“Yes?” I force a smile.

“Lamb chops,” he says.

“Sure. How would you like those cooked?”

Ahmad lets out a sigh of exasperation and raises a hand to his forehead. I’m clearly giving him a headache with my terribly complicated question. “Medium rare, of course. How else would I want them cooked? Has anyone ever ordered lamb chops well done?”

It’s a ridiculous statement. Many people like them well done, but I have to bite my tongue. I’m about to answer when Aisha gets up and heads over to his table. She stands tall and meets his eyes with a sharp look, then says something to him in Arabic.

He shoots her a furious glance and answers, and I don’t need to understand the language to know this isn’t a friendly exchange. A long silence follows before Aisha replies. Unlike him, she never raises her voice, but whatever she says is effective because his expression changes and his shoulders drop along with his head as if he’s showing her respect. She nods and walks off, then goes back to her crushed ice and shisha as if nothing has happened.

I stand there awkwardly while I enter the order for lamb chops. The next question is sure to set him off again, but I have to ask. “Would you like anything to go with your lamb chops?”

Expecting an explosion of abuse, I’m surprised when Ahmad remains calm. “A green salad, please. The girls will have the same,” he says. “I’m sorry for my outburst. I’m having a bad day. I hope you can forgive me.”

“No need to apologize. I’ll get that for you.” I look at Aisha, and her eyes hold a humorous twinkle as she shoots me a subtle wink. I’m dying to know what she said to him, but I’m not in a position to ask her. I’m only to speak when I’m taking orders or when directly addressed. Part of me protests when turn away because looking at her feels indulgent. It’s like staring at an intriguing piece of art; she holds my attention beyond the surface, and I can’t help but wonder what her story is. Maybe I’ll find out one day, but it’s unlikely, and right now, I have more pressing things to do than speculate about the beautiful diamond member.

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