“It’s a reserve.”
Her eyes are glued to the grounds and the Caribbean Ocean, playing peekaboo as we glide through toward the main building. “Not a resort?”
“It’s both.”
“Roman, I didn’t say much about the villa in Vegas, but shit. I can’t let you pay for me here, business expense or not. It has to be a couple of grand a night.”
“I had my assistant get us another villa. It’s all done. No arguing.”
She huffs and folds her arms, but there is no getting over the azure water or the breathtaking landscape. I’ve never been down here before, and I’m already in love. We climb out of thecar, shielding our eyes from the sun, and head into the cool lobby that feels like a breath of fresh air on our heated skin.
“Hola. Welcome,” a greeter says, holding a tray of pink drinks with pretty flowers in them. “Hibiscus agua fresca?”
“Sí. Gracias.” Braelyn accepts a glass despite her silent protest with me, and I take one as well, the cool sweetness welcome, even here in the air-conditioned lobby.
“Mr. Fritz, we’re delighted you and Ms. Albright are here,” the receptionist says to me as Braelyn meanders around the lobby, taking in the sculptures and art. Probably because she doesn’t want to hear what I’m paying a night here. “We have you set up in one of our Cortes beachfront villas. It’s on an upper floor, with magnificent views as well as a private terrace and plunge pool. I am sorry to inform you that we were unable to grant the request your assistant made for a room change. Unfortunately, our resort is full this week as it’s also spring break in America and Europe.”
Oh shit. That’s going to cause a problem. For both of us.
“There are no other accommodations?”
“No, sir. I apologize. We have you in our finest villa, though.”
He launches into a spiel about experiences that celebrate nature as well as soul-nourishing wellness rituals. The spa, the pools, the cabanas. I stop listening until he describes the other restaurants, and then I’m all ears. They already broke ground on my restaurant, and I have meetings lined up all week with designers, chefs, and restaurant managerial staff.
“Miguel will show you to your villa, señor. Please enjoy your stay and we are most excited to see your restaurant come to life here.”
“Gracias. Brae?” I call out and wave for her. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to tell her about the villa and now my heart is starting to pound. I text my assistant, who replies instantly that she just got the notification about it an hour agoand has been working to see what else she can do. But there’s nothing to do.
The resort is full. It’s spring break in Cancun.
We follow Miguel, our personal attendant, through the property, a winding path that takes us past immaculate landscaped gardens full of tropical plants and flowers. The resort unfolds in levels down toward the ocean, with an endless blue horizon. It’s paradise. No two ways about it.
We’re led to our villa, a spacious oasis on the edge of the beach with all ocean views and a stunning living space, a magnificent private pool with an outdoor lounge as well as an eating area, an enormous bathroom with both an indoor and outdoor shower, and… one large king bed.
Braelyn notices it the moment I do, and her head swivels toward me with the speed of a meteor crashing to earth.
Miguel is prattling on about the hammock and temperature controls for the pool and the sound system and the fully stocked private bar. That’s all great, but not anywhere close to where our focus is at the moment. She’s going to eviscerate me.
I tip him generously and close the door behind him, waiting as silence expands, filling every corner of the suite.
Braelyn stands in the center of the living room, her arms folded, her expression a complex mixture of emotions that for once, I can’t decipher.
“One bed,” she finally says, and it’s not a question. It’s an accusation.
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrow. “Did you request that?”
“No,” I defend. “This is the villa I originally had for myself. I asked my assistant to change it to a two-bedroom suite in the main part of the hotel because they don’t have two-bedroom villas here. They weren’t able to accommodate us because it’s spring break week.”
“Roman…” She trails off and storms out toward the terrace asif she doesn’t know what to say. Slowly, I trail her and find her staring out at the ocean that stretches endlessly before us, an intense blue meeting the equally blue sky in a line so sharp it looks as though it was drawn using a ruler.
“Brae?”
“I’ll let the money stuff go even if I’m not happy about it. But what do we do about the bed situation?”
“I’ll press them a bit and see when another room or suite will become available,” I offer.