My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

Or with Abi.

The thought intrudes into my battle of wills with Meredith, setting me off-kilter at a crucial moment, and I give in. “Of course. I’d be happy to come out and share a few tidbits about each course.”

Victory makes her teeth look extraordinarily sharp when Meredith smiles. “Next time, perhaps you’ll simply send me the menu,” she muses.

One last dig to let me know she’s won this one.

Her heels click across the floor as she war-paths out of the kitchen. As soon as the door swings shut behind her, Esmar peeks out from around the corner to whisper, “Is the coast clear?”

I grin. “Afraid of her?”

He nods vehemently. “Yes! She is like a fox, a patient and cunning hunter that pounces when you least expect it.” He snaps his teeth, his fingers claws that scratch at the air in a charade that looks more like a lioness than a fox. But I get his point. Meredith is not one to be underestimated.

“Well, she’s gone for now, so let me get this prep finished.” Esmar comes over to help me, and after a while, Gilberto arrives as well.

Just in time because the front-of-house manager comes back to ask for my approval of the table setting. “Since I don’t know the menu, we want to be sure the silverware is appropriate.”

I get the feeling he’s one of Meredith’s minions, doing her bidding. Intentionally or not.

But it’s not an unusual request when I’ve kept the menu to myself. It’s not a secret. I just wanted to let the fresh ingredients speak to me and create something truly special.

I follow the manager to the floor and see that they’ve set up a lovely table by the open windows. The salt breeze off the sea blows in gently, rustling the pink- and white-striped runners that line the length of the table display. White china plates are nestled on silver charger platters at each place setting, and that is layered onto a large, fresh palm leaf.

Abigail’s doing, I’m sure.

As if thinking of her conjures her in truth, she walks in with a lush arrangement. “These are the last ones,” she says to no one in particular.

Janey follows along behind her, carefully carrying a tray full of small buds bursting with floral color.

“Let me help with that,” I tell Abigail, taking the flowers from her. “Where does it go?”

She nibbles her bottom lip as though she’s not sure, staring into my eyes vacantly, and I wonder what thoughts are spinning in that head of hers. The possibilities make me smile.

“Oh, right here,” she tells me finally, pointing to the center of the table. “And Janey, set that down and we’ll spread those out.”

Janey glares at me with a raised brow. “Oh, no worries, I’ve got this.”

I have the decency to look remorseful as she sets the tray down.

“These are beautiful,” I tell Abigail earnestly, which earns me a soft smile.

Before I can say anything else, I hear those tell-tale heels clicking across the floor. “There you are, Miss Andrews. Is this what you’ve made for today’s luncheon?” Meredith couldn’t be more condescending if she tried as she looks at the vibrant symphonies of color Abigail and Janey have created. She reaches toward the main arrangement, frowning as she flicks a bloom with her red-tipped fingers.

“Please don’t touch them,” Abigail scolds automatically. Gentler, she says, “They’re fragile and will blacken from the oils on your hands.”

Surprisingly, Meredith drops her hands back to her sides.

“Yes, each setting has a palm leaf, and the tablescape will have lush greenery accented with the main arrangement, smaller collections of buds, and freshly halved coconuts. The beauty of the tropics,” Abigail explains. She makes flowers sound like a vacation escape.

Meredith continues her barely veiled insults. “I guess they’ll do. It’s better than the overly simplistic one from yesterday, at least.”

Abigail’s back goes ramrod straight, and her teeth click as though she’s choking down the words she really wants to say. I’m pretty sure what she’s swallowing is ‘Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.’

Not able to stand by and watch, I step forward. “Great job, Abigail. I’m sure Claire will love them.”

Meredith cuts her eyes to me as she likely prepares to go mano a mano again. Measuring the distance between me and her and me and Abigail, a light goes off in the depths of her dark eyes. “Oh, I should’ve introduced you two, but it sounds like you already know each other?” Curiosity and calculation are palpable as she looks me up and down once more.

I let Abigail handle this one. It’s reasonable for us to know each other from before, and even if we weren’t familiar through Violet, we could’ve met here at the resort. At yesterday’s meeting, even. But we specifically discussed keeping the whole honeymoon thing to ourselves.