I nod. "I see.. well, thank you for coming to get me."
"Of course," he beams. "Anything for Mr. Gerald. Did you have a good flight?" He chitchats as I identify my luggage on the carousel and he helps me to grab it and place it on a large cart. "I'm Kenneth, by the way."
"Yes, it was really nice, thank you!" Everything went as scheduled from the time I woke up and headed to the airport, Yara and the nanny waving as I walked out the door and hopped into my waiting taxi. As if the universe was giving me yet another sign that I'm absolutely on the right path.
I felt like a movie star the whole way here, drinking mimosas and chatting with the flight attendants throughout our flight. It's been years since I last flew—not since the early days with Luchenko when he'd take me on short local flights to fancy boutique hotels—and I was worried I might be afraid. But the only part that frazzled me a bit was when I arrived on the tiny tropical island and had to make my way through customs and immigration clearance.
There's something about authority—particularly men in uniform—that always puts me on edge. It’s a tickle of discomfort, a fear that I'm suddenly going to be hauled away, even though I've done absolutely nothing to warrant that, to my knowledge. I'm not sure if it's the uniforms, the firearms, the serious expressions on the men's faces, or something else, but it had me tense even here. Where I’m from, we’re taught not to trust law enforcement for a reason, after all.
Kenneth loads my luggage into a sleek black SUV and opens the back door for me. I hop in, inhaling the rich scent of leather upholstery. A driver and a fancy car to pick me up... so far, Gerald seems to be the wealthy man he claims to be. Not that his money is the only reason I'm here. But you never know—with so many catfish stories and horror tales of bait-and-switch schemes, I'm relieved to see that Gerald appears to be who he says he is
"How long have you known Gerald?" I ask Kenneth as we make our way down the palm tree-lined road on the way to the hotel. I figure I may as well take this opportunity to gather anyinsights. I am here partially to vet him after all, so I may as well see what Kenneth knows. Or rather, what he's prepared to share.
"I've worked with Mr. Gerald for about three years now, ma'am," Kenneth beams, the pride evident in his voice. "He took me under his wing when I was assigned as his driver, and I've been working for him ever since. I accompany him all over, really. Including on his vacations." With his free hand, he gestures at the palm trees that line the highway.
"And does Gerald invite lots of ladies to these islands for romantic vacations?"
A concerned look passes over Kenneth's face, but just as rapidly he seems to recover. "I, uh—I'm not meant to discuss Mr. Gerald's private life, ma'am. I hope you can understand."
I quickly wink and smile in an attempt to put him at ease. "I'm only teasing, Kenneth. If that was a test of loyalty, you just passed with flying colors."
Kenneth laughs awkwardly. Shit. I hope it doesn't get back to Gerald that I'm inquiring about other women. I don't even really know why I asked. It just kind of came out.
I change the subject, asking Kenneth more benign questions about where he's from and what he likes to do for fun.
He seems relieved by the change in conversation and I decide not to press things further.
It's important that I start this vacation out on the right foot, and—who knows—Kenneth could end up being an ally down the road if I need one.
We enter a winding driveway through a large, ornate gate emblazoned with the luxury resort's prestigious logo.Immaculately curated vegetation and vibrant flowers line the roadway, and I wind my window down to inhale the strong, pleasant scent of hibiscus and jacaranda.
We pull up at the valet stand and I go on ahead while Kenneth figures out the luggage and vehicle situation.
"Alina!" Gerald's voice echoes through the grand lobby of the luxurious hotel, his eyes gleaming with excitement. I recognize him immediately, just as handsome as he was in his photos and during our many video calls, but the 3D version with muscles and angles that the sunlight hits in all the right places.
After a warm embrace that gives me pleasant tingles, he places his hands on both of my upper arms and steps back to take in the full length of my appearance. He beams. "Wow, Alina, just look at you. You are so very beautiful. I knew you were stunning, but video calls don't do you justice."
I find myself blushing. He's just as smooth in person as he was on our calls and via text.
His energy is also contagious. He's as comfortable here as I imagine him to be in a boardroom, securing one of his mysterious business deals. He takes my hand with confidence and leads me towards the reception desk, his tailored suit swishing with each step.
"Sorry for the uptight outfit," he gestures at his clothing. "I'll change into something more appropriate later. I just had a business meeting on Zoom and needed to look the part. Didn't want them to think I was running around playing golf instead of making wise investment decisions on their behalf."
Again, interesting. So he brought suits. I thought this was a trip where we could get to know each other, not for me to sit in the room or by the pool or whatever while he talked commerce.
He must notice the look of slight confusion on my face. "Don't worry," he says. "I've scheduled plenty of time for us. I just have a few things I need to take care of that couldn't be moved." Hesmiles at me and places a hand on the small of my back. "I hope you understand… and I can assure you that getting to know you is my top priority."
His eyes roam down my body, and it's hard to explain how it makes me feel. Admired, I guess. But also in a slightly predatory way. I don't entirely hate it, but I don't love it either. Maybe I'm just slightly irritated after the flight and news of his work obligations.
"I have a surprise for you as well. Several, actually," he grins.
I eye him warily, my past experiences with surprises leaving a sour taste in my mouth. "What surprise?" I ask, half-joking, half-serious. "You’re not about to tell me we’re jumping out of a plane or something, are you?"
"Ah, you'll see," he says, winking at me. "But first, let me check us in." He turns to the receptionist and flashes a charming smile, his fingers tapping on the marble counter impatiently.
As we wait for the keys to our room, I take in the opulent surroundings: sprawling gardens dotted with palm trees, a glistening pool that stretches as far as the eye can see, and a pristine private beach that shimmers under the tropical sun. It's all so overwhelming, so out of my league.
I've been to a couple of nice hotels before, but those were all back in the home country, and it was with Luchenko. Thankfully, those memories are now well in the past and fleeting at best. Thank goodness for the power to forget.