When Bees Sing - Part 1

Chapter 4

Back in her room, Sadie covered her head with the down pillow. She was certifiable. No doubt about it. What other explanation was there for her giving the man a fake name?

Yes, she'd dreamed of an escape from the last few months. A new chapter. New life even. She'd woken this morning determined to leave her past behind as easily as an airline loses a suitcase, but pretending to be someone else had not been on the agenda. Lying to a perfect stranger - it was ridiculous. And she sucked at it - she picked the name of the heroine in the book he'd recommended. He hadn't been fooled. In the blink of his startling gray eyes, he'd caught onto her duplicity. And he'd gone along with it, choosing the main character's identity as his own.

Why?

She tossed the pillow and shot to her feet. Yeah, why?

What did he have to hide?

She had lied on a crazy whim, but he had followed her right into the sham. With amusement. One corner of his mouth, the place where she'd wanted to lick off the lingering whip cream, had threatened to curl up in a smirk. He'd fought it, tried to be serious, but she'd seen it. He'd told a fake name on purpose and thought it was funny.

Ugh, men.

Knowing she was being just a bit of a hypocrite, which only compounded her annoyance, she punched her arms through the bikini top, and she maneuvered them around to link the clasp. Unsuccessful. Her dexterity fell to the wayside in moments of frustration. Instead, she shrugged out of the tiny garment and tossed it on the bed, crossing her arms over her naked breasts. Maybe she wouldn't go to the beach today.

No, damnit. She refused to waste another gorgeous day hiding in her hotel room. Determined, she worked the clasp and pulled the top over her head. Where there was a will, there was Getting Dressed at Sleepover Camp 101.

Her legs thrust into her fire engine red bottom and she checked herself in the mirror. With the weight she'd recently lost, the suit cupped and supported all the right places. Figures. The one time she didn't want anyone to notice, she rivaled a swimsuit model.

With beach essentials in a canvas hotel bag, she consulted her tour book and chose a beach for her day's sunbathing. The distant Hart Bay Beach from her morning's salutation with the sun was too sacred for mere lounging around. The sand by the hotel boasted the same comfortable soft powder and the calm water a similar light turquoise. Chocolate Beach would be perfect to connect her to her inner sloth.

Her flip-flops slapped against the soles of her feet as she walked down the lane to the beach. When she hit the sand, she kicked them off. Her toes dug into the hot powder and, ahhing at the sensation, she scanned the beach for an empty spot. Couples lay everywhere. Towels touching each other, people touching each...Oh my. Were they actually? She squinted her eyes and, yes. Yes, they were. Although she'd never call herself a prude, she headed to her left, not wanting to be witness to what played out on the other side.

She lumbered on the uneven surface until she found a quiet piece of paradise. No couples, no kids. Nothing to remind her of the life she'd left behind. This is what she'd traveled thousands of miles to find. Peace and solitude.

At least for now. Tonight she had a non-date with Derry Masterson, a literary character come to life. Would the real version be as insensitive, rich and inhumane as the fictionalized one?

One night. She could handle one night.

She pulled out the tube of sunscreen on her and considered the best course of action. Her backside would be a challenge. Reason number 124 how life alone could complicate things: inadequate sun block coverage. Oh well, she'd only lie on her stomach for a few minutes.