“This isn’t the nineteenth century,” Lisa points out. “Most people live together before they get engaged. Don’t you think people will think it weird that he proposed before you even lived together?”
“Um…”
“You could say you don’t believe in sex before marriage,” Ria says.
We all look at each other for a moment. Then we all burst out laughing.
“No, okay.” She wipes beneath her eyes. “That won’t work.”
“You could move in with him,” Lisa says, “but stay in one of his spare rooms. I mean I’m betting he owns a huge house, right? He must have more than one bedroom.”
“Yeah, he’s got a villa overlooking Little Palm Beach.” It’s a bay on the north side of the island, well known for the fact that it’s the only beach on the island where you can swim naked.
“Nudie Bay?” Ria giggles. “Wow. Yeah, that’s a great idea. Maybe he’s got staff! Imagine what that would be like. Being waited on hand and foot.”
“I don’t think he spends his days lying on chaise longues eating grapes,” I point out. “I doubt he’s got staff.” As soon as I say that, though, I remember his parents’ home. They have a gardener, a housekeeper, a chauffeur, and I believe a chef comes in sometimes to cook for them. Who wouldn’t have all that, if they had a choice?
“Communication is key,” Lisa says. “If you decide to go ahead with it, you need to sit down with him and hash out the details. Explain how far you’re willing to go, and what your limits are.”
“Hard and soft,” Ria says, waggling her eyebrows.
I blow out a breath.
“It said in one of the articles that he’s six-four,” she adds. “Is that true?”
I nod. “He’s huge.” Her eyes widen, and I hastily say, “I mean big. I mean tall!”
They both giggle. “You know what they say,” Lisa teases. “Does he have big feet?”
I bite my lip. “Yes, he does, they’re enormous.”
We all collapse into laughter. Ohhh… it’s good to laugh after the day I’ve had.
“You never know,” Ria says mischievously, “maybe he’ll fall in love with you, and you’ll actually end up together.”
I shake my head sadly. “That’s definitely not on the cards. He likes models! And movie stars! Not gardeners. Not every Cinderella gets her prince.”
“Well,” Lisa says, “I don’t think—” She stops and cocks her head.
“What?” I ask.
She’s the closest to the front window, and she gets up and crosses the room to peer through the curtains. “Fuck,” she says, “I don’t believe it.”
Ria and I exchange a look, and my heart starts hammering. We both get up and run to the window. Sure enough, Tamati’s car is parked out the front, and he’s revving the engine.
“Shit.” Anger flares inside me. We’ve already had one neighbor complain that he woke up her baby daughter with his revving and yelling.
“I’ll deal with him,” Ria says, turning to leave.
But she has a tendency to flirt with him, and I don’t want him sitting outside thinking he’ll get attention every time he does this. “No.” I cross to the coffee table and put down my wine glass. “I’ll sort it.”
“Why don’t we just call the police?” Lisa’s angry. “This is harassment. He’s stalking you, and it’s against the law.”
“I will if I have to. I’m going to try one more time.”
I walk out to the front door, take my jacket off the hook, and put it on, covering my pajama top. I shove my feet in my Wellingtons and pocket my phone. Then I open the door and go out.
It’s nearly seven, so the sun has set, and the street lamps are on, casting pools of orange on the dark pavement. I walk down the short path, go out of the gate, and walk up to the car.