Epilogue
Mel
One year later. . .
When I’m traveling, I like to check out the competition. I’m in Rio San Juan, in the Dominican Republic, which means I’m checking into the Fontaine Catelon.
It’s Saturday night. I intend to check into my undoubtedly beautiful room, soak in a bathtub for an hour with a glass of wine, and then video call West and Rob. There will be phone sex. After all, it’s our one-year hookup-versary which calls for a celebration.
“Welcome to the Fontaine Catelon, Ms. Ortega,” the guy at the front desk says. “Have you stayed with us before?”
I bite back my smile. It’s been three years since I was here. This guy, Eduardo, is probably new, but Felipe Medina is still the manager. Felipe wasn’t exactly thrilled with me the last time around—he didn’t like me telling him how to run his hotel—and I’m positive he’ll remember me.
Come to think of it, I’m surprised Felipe didn’t notice I checked in. He was always good with details.
“I have, yes.”
“Perfect. We have you in the Rose Suite.” He hands me a key card. He gestures to a waiting porter. “Miguel will take your bags to your room.”
“The Rose Suite?” That’s the nicest suite in the hotel. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two thousand square feet. The Rose Suite also comes with a private pool and spectacular views of the ocean. My budget definitely doesn’t cover that. “No, that’s not right. I didn’t book that.”
He checks his computer. “You were upgraded, Ms. Ortega.”
“Oh.” Felipe and I declared a truce, and we were even friendly by the time I left, but I’m still surprised. “Thank you. Is Mr. Medina around?”
“I’m not sure, Ms. Ortega. I can tell him you’d like to speak to him.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” I take my keycard. Miguel—who is new too, I think—takes my suitcase. We head to my room.
The Rose Suiteis more beautiful than I remember. It’s spacious, and floor-to-ceiling windows offer jaw-dropping views of the ocean. Vases overflow with fresh orchids.
I’m also steps from the beach. It’s dusk and too late to go swimming tonight, but I make myself a promise that I’m going to wake up at the crack of dawn and hit the beach.
I check my phone. I have a dozen work emails waiting for me to answer, but nothing from Rob and West. Huh. That’s weird. If I didn’t know them better, I’d wonder if they forgot about our hookup-versary.
But West and Rob are good at the details.
A knock sounds at the door. That must be Felipe. I open it with a smile. “I remember you threatening to kick me out of your hotel,” I tease.
Then my brain registers who I’m seeing. It’s not Felipe at the door.
It’s West and Rob.
“That’s a malicious lie,” West says with a grin. “I have never threatened to kick you out of my hotel.”
“Hello, Mel.” Rob gives me an amused smile as he hands me a bunch of roses. They’re pale pink—the faintest, palest shade of pink—and lovely. “You should probably close your mouth. You might swallow a fly.”
“Another malicious lie,” West says, shaking his head. “There are no flies in the Fontaine Catelon.”
I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight, and then I hug Rob. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s our anniversary,” Rob says. He brushes a kiss over my lips. “I would have thought you’d remember. You’re good at details.”
“You flew all the way out here for our anniversary?”
“It’s not a particularly long flight,” West shrugs. “Besides, you sounded stressed the last time we talked.”
I search my memory. Oh, right. I’d talked to West two days ago, right after I spoke to Cat. Warmth fills me. They flew almost four hours because I’d sounded stressed on the phone. West doesn’t even like flying. “It was nothing.”