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You are cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of Sera and Mark in a week-long, all expenses paid trip to the tropical island of Barbados! We promise you a week of fun, nostalgia and glittery celebrations! Your presence is...
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My heels clinked on the tiled floor as I made my way through the Airport's last check and towards the exit. The material on the back of the stilettos grazed my ankle poorly. Whereas, my toes were squished together in front at indecent angles. The rush of the Airport did nothing to soothe the lethargy I felt after landing straight from a meeting with a client.
Stepping out of the babel, I breathed in the lush, tropical air. The smell of vacation and zest filled my lungs wholly, giving a jolt of excitation to my nerves. Spending a week in Barbados, now seemed as the perfect getaway from the quotidian humdrum of life.
My hair was unattractively stuck to my forehead as well as lower neck due to the cool yet humid climate of the island. The northeast trade winds weren't much prevalent at the moment. Still, I was surprised I was calm enough to not cringe at the sight of a bright fluorescent jumper in my periphery.
I fished out my phone from the back pocket of my office pants, meaning to call my ride to the resort. The sharp voice of Sera Jones greeted me after three short rings.
"Max, where are you?!"
"At the airport, waiting for my ride?" I said nonchalantly, shifting my weight to a single leg.
"What? Link didn't reach yet!?" she said, exasperated.
"Apparently not." I nodded, not caring if she couldn't see me.
"But he left half hour ago! It's a freaking twenty-minute drive!" she exclaimed, talking to more to herself. "I'll call him, he has to be there already," she said curtly and hung up.
Is this what was called a 'mad bride-to-be'? Well, probably.
In the time I had put my sunglasses on and removed the very unnecessary suit jacket, a honk resounded from the direction diagonal to me. Link Matthews prodded out of a shiny red unroofed car, spanning the large area around until his eyes finally landed on myself.
He waved me over and I rolled my eyes at his indecency of not lending a hand for my luggage. Classic Link Matthews. I struggled to drag the heavy box of hard plastic off the single-step pavement but succeeded eventually.
"Looking classy, Greene." Link smirked as he removed his goggles and hung them on the front hem of his sleeveless top.
"Nice tank top, Matthews." I tipped my head once, pointing at his beachy attire.
He chuckled loudly. "I see work didn't make you lose your spark. Glad to have you back, Miss Max," he said.
"I try," I replied. "Now, are you here to just stand and mock or actually be of help?"
"I try," he reiterated smugly but nonetheless pulled up my suitcase and situated it in the small backseat. "Climb in, Greene," he said, "everybody's awaiting the maid-of-honor."
I buckled myself in the passenger seat and hauled out my phone again before asking, "I'm the last one here?"
"I hope so," he heaved. "Sera's put me on pick-up duty and I can't bear to visit this place a sixth time."
