Pleasure Island - Choose Your Romance

Chapter 3

Your thoughts ping-pong back and forth. On the one hand, you had an amazing time with George. The connection you felt with him was real, and you can't remember the last time you shared that with somebody. On the other hand, his own words are haunting you. The heartbreaking story he revealed about his wife rings in your ears, giving you pause.

"But we just kept putting off living for a time we never got back. It was stolen from us. From her."

They say it's difficult to learn from someone else's mistakes. Apparently that's why, even as adults, we all bumble around making dumb decisions that anyone from the outside looking in could tell us are a bad idea. But it isn't hard to feel the agony of George's words in your heart. To feel the acute pain of understanding that comes with leading a life barely lived. You get it. All too well, to be honest.

Well, you didn't take this trip to chicken out now. This is supposed to be about fun experiences, right? So, what would a little dancing and flirting in a club hurt?

Nothing.

You nod your head stiffly and swallow the last gulp of your drink, placing the empty glass on the bar and march out into the hotel lobby. You're going to do this. It's about having fun, right? And how much fun is it to sit alone in a hotel room? Zero fun. This is the right decision.

You look around the vast space and realize one little, teensy thing. You have no idea where "Passion" is. Not a clue.

"Can I help you with anything, ma'am?" A young lady with a thick accent and warm brown skin calls to you from behind the reception desk.

Problem solved.

"Yes, that would be great," you smile and walk over to her. "I'm wondering if you can point me in the direction of club Passion?"

Are you imagining things? Or did her deep chocolate eyes just glint at the mention of the club's name? Your thoughts travel back to the description you read in your room earlier. With the promise of secret naughty times and the provocative picture of the woman who's mouth formed that perfect "O" shape as the smoking hot man behind her grinded up on her.

"Ma'am?"

You snap back to reality and realize that the woman is waiting for you to say something. Did she ask a question?

"I'm sorry?"

"I said that you just need to take this exit and that the club entrance is about a five minute walk down the path to your left. There are signs the entire way," she smiles.

"Oh, okay then. Perfect." You don't move, your thoughts are spinning.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Uh, maybe, yeah." You gather your thoughts. "If I wanted to book a sunset sail on the Sea Sally, how would I do that?"

The lady gives you a welcoming smile that comes with an upsell. "Well, I would be happy to book it for your ma'am. If that's what you'd like to do?"

"Umm, I'm not sure yet," you back pedal. "Is there a card or something that with a number on it? Like, can I just book it myself when I make up my mind?"

"I have no card, no." She looks around the desk. "But I'll write down the number for you. The man who runs them is named George," she explains as she writes his name on the page. It makes your heart flutter just to hear it spoken. "Here's his cellphone number. He's a very good sailor. I think you will enjoy the cruise very much," she smiles and pushes the sheet across the desk at me.

"Thank you," you smile broadly.

"No worries, ma'am."

As much as you're not crazy about the "ma'am" stuff, this lady has helped you more than she knows. You pluck the paper from the desk and head out the exit she pointed out to you, reading the numbers off the page. You know perfectly well how much sending texts when you're outside of the United States costs, but you don't care. You punch his number in and type up a quick text.