My Single-versary (Happy Endings 0.50)

The first is Come back with the same number of people you left with.

The second is No canoodling on the job.

“Romance with clients is always a terrible idea,” I say. “The Mia situation taught me that.”

Brady nods. “You don’t need another koala of a girl clinging to you.”

I shudder at the memory. “I don’t. But let’s be fair to marsupials— koalas are adorable.”

Thing is, even when everyone’s on board, a tour hookup is never going to lead anywhere—nowhere worth risking your business or reputation. For one thing, getting cozy with a guest while you should be paying attention to your other clients is dangerous.

But a vacation romance is only a recipe for heartache. It will mess you up worse than any box jelly, so the only thing to do is avoid them altogether.

3

Skyler

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Maui,” the flight attendant says as we taxi to the gateway. “We hope you enjoyed your flight. Local time is two-thirty, and the temperature is a balmy eighty-two degrees.”

Kahului Airport pulls me into the island spirit as soon as I exit the plane. It’s busy with pale tourists arriving, sunburned ones departing, and everywhere I look are explosions of color. Skylights and palms blend indoors and out until I can’t tell the difference.

I find my suitcase at the baggage carousel and exit the airport, fully savoring the balmy eighty-two degrees the flight attendant promised and drinking in the Pacific air. The breeze toys with my hair and smells entirely different than San Francisco.

It smells like vacation.

Hello, single-versary, here I am.

I hail a taxi that’s making a circuit of the arrival gates. When it stops, I greet the driver, then toss my bags in the back seat and slide in beside them. Gotta love tropical getaways—sundresses and sandals make luggage light.

“Where you headed?” asks the cabbie as I click in my seat belt.

“Well, I’m going to a wedding tonight,” I answer cheerfully. “And then tomorrow, I’m going to get out of my comfort zone for my single-versary.”

“Single-versary?” He glances at me in the rearview mirror, his dark brown eyes crinkling with a grin. “Is that something you do at karaoke?”

“Nope. It’s a year of being happily single while everyone I know seems to be posting engagement pictures and cutesy save-the-date announcements.”

“Congratulations.” There’s a honk behind us as we idle, and he smiles widely at me. “But I meant what hotel are you headed to.”

“Oh.” Of course he did. “The Hilton, please.”

The taxi pulls away from the airport, and the driver strikes up a conversation. “So, the whole single thing—that’s awesome. Maybe you can have an island fling here. I’m off after six.”

“Thank you, but no,” I say politely. “The point is I’m trying to not date.”

“Sure, sure. But seriously, I have a DoorDash shift this afternoon. You want dinner? I recommend Joe’s Surf and Turf for their local halibut. I can have it to the Hilton in less than ten minutes. You change your mind about having company with dinner, just order the ‘something on the side’ special. But I can only stay for twenty minutes.”

I have no plans to take him up on that, but his salesmanship is impressive. “I’ll consider it. Do I get a promo code?”

“Sure thing.” His eyebrows wiggle in the rearview mirror. “It’s Double O.”

That’s a hell of an offer.

Turning it down has got to be worth at least the price of a halibut dinner added to the reward jar.

At the wedding that night, my cousin Trish looks amazing in a simple sundress-style wedding dress with a hibiscus in her hair. Blake, her groom, gazes at her with love in his eyes, clearly besotted.

They trade “I dos” at sunset on the beach, and it’s insanely romantic.

Even my man-cleansed heart flutters as he kisses the bride like he will indeed cherish her always.

A little later, the reception is going strong inside the tent on the hotel grounds. Near the dance floor, I catch up with Sierra and Clementine, some friends from San Francisco.

Sierra’s been making eyes at a strapping, sexy baseball player, and she catches us up on what’s going on with the star closer from the San Francisco Cougars.

It’s a delish story, and I can’t wait to hear how it all shakes out. “You do have a just-been-fucked look about you,” I tease, gesturing to her glowing skin.

“I will take that as the compliment it is,” she says.

Clementine turns to me, all big eyes and eager voice. “And what about you? Will you indulge in some sunset yada yada yada here on your solo vacay?”

“Nope. I’m sticking to my diet,” I say, then give them the scoop on my resolution.

“Good luck with that,” Sierra says.

“You have the doubtful sound of a woman who’s getting a little action,” I tease.

“Then as long as you don’t get a little action, you’ll be fine sticking to your diet,” she says.