Out of Practice Page 2

  “Really? Then I suppose it’s okay. Do you think she’ll be there during your stay?”

  Abby suppressed a laugh. “If she is, I promise I’ll try to get you an autograph.” She glanced out the window. “Hey, we’re pulling up to the gate. I have to go. I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “Have fun. Send pictures. Text often.”

  Abby stowed her phone, feeling a tinge of guilt in advance because, aside from a quick “Hey, I arrived safely,” she had no plans to call or text anyone, especially her mother, while she was gone. There was a time in her life she would’ve felt guilty for not inviting her mother along, but she knew from experience her mom would spend the entire trip on high alert, trying to find them both someone to hook up with. A mother does not a good wingwoman make.

  As the car came to a stop, Abby shoved away her guilt and gathered her stuff.

  “See you in a week,” the driver called out after he loaded her luggage onto a cart.

  A whole week with no clients, no opposing counsel, no work at all. The idea sent her brain into a tailspin, but she took a deep breath and leaned in. She was going to have a blast doing absolutely nothing.

  * * *

  Honeymoon apparently used to mean the month (moon phase) after the wedding when the bride’s father loaded the happy couple with all the mead (honey beer) they could drink. Honey was believed to be an aphrodisiac, and a month of drunken lovemaking would hurry along the next logical phase of the couple’s life: baby-making.

  Times have changed. Despite the proliferation of craft beer and microbreweries, no one’s rushing out to buy a growler of mead, let alone newlyweds rushing away from the chaos of their nuptials to find a little alone time. And while raising a family is a worthy goal, it’s not for everyone and certainly not the first thing on the minds of most fresh-minted married folk.

  Which leads us to ask—what is a honeymoon and how do you make the most of it?

  Roxanne stopped typing and cocked her head at the sound of the gate agent calling her boarding group, which happened to be the very last one. She offered a silent curse to the travel coordinator at the magazine who’d booked her flight, tucked her laptop in her bag, and joined the herd of passengers queuing up to board the flight to Puerto Vallarta.

  She’d packed light, as she usually did when she traveled for business, which put her in contrast with the rest of the passengers boarding the flight, most of whom toted travel pillows and snacks in addition to their allowed carry-on items. Truth was she hadn’t had a lot of time to prepare for the trip. The staff writer for Best Day Ever bridal magazine who usually handled honeymoon features had fallen ill at the last minute, and the editor had asked her to step in for the already booked trip. The online version of the magazine already licensed her popular wedding blog, The Bride’s Best Friend, so the gig was a perfect fit for both of them, and Roxanne hoped the feature spread would garner the attention she needed to land something bigger.

  After being shoved in the back several times, she barely resisted the urge to turn around and smack the woman behind her with the too big purse and oversized suitcase. When they finally crossed from the Jetway to the plane, their already slow procession ground to a halt in the middle of first class, while they waited for the million passengers ahead of them, who’d apparently packed as much crap as the woman behind her, to board the plane.

  When the line finally started moving, Roxanne stepped forward only to immediately trip and land square across the aisle seat of one of the first class passengers. She grabbed the headrest to regain her balance and came face-to-face with a ravishing beauty. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Are you okay?” the woman asked.

  “Aside from being embarrassed, yes.” Roxanne zeroed in on the champagne flute the woman was holding in her outstretched hand. “Did I spill your drink?”

  “No worries,” the beautiful brunette said, tilting the glass toward her. “I could lie and say you’re the reason it’s empty, but the truth is I polished this off seconds ago.”

  Ah, the ease of first class. Not only were these passengers already lounging in big, cushy seats, but the flight attendants were tending to their every need with little regard to the herd of people waiting to find space in the back of the plane. Champagne woman’s easy smile and relaxed posture was evidence the price of the ticket might well be worth it. Roxanne sighed. One day she too would spare no expense when she traveled, but since she wouldn’t be taking this trip if it weren’t being comped, she would make do with a tiny seat in coach and the sandwich she’d stowed away in her bag. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “If you’re sitting nearby, maybe we can share a toast to start the trip.”

  Roxanne was caught off guard. Was champagne woman flirting with her? Right here in the aisle of a packed airplane?

  “Hey, some of us are trying to get to our seats.”

  She couldn’t pinpoint exactly who’d yelled, but Roxanne could feel the tension from the rest of the passengers behind her. She raised her shoulders. “Rain check?”

  “Definitely.”

  With one last reluctant glance at the woman whose lap she’d landed in, Roxanne strode down the aisle. Once in her aisle seat, she shoved her small carry-on under the seat in front of her and opened her iPad. Her sister, Valerie, had texted a series of emojis consisting of a plane, a rocket ship, a palm tree, a drink, and a red heart. She typed back, Love you, sis. I’ll text you in a few days after I leave the first resort.

  As if. You know you’ll never last more than a few hours off grid.

  There’s only one way to get the full experience. I’m doing it for my readers.

  We’ll see. I have a twenty that says I’ll hear from you later today.

  I’ll take that bet. Gotta go, sour-faced flight attendant heading toward me.

  Roxanne put the iPad in airplane mode and nodded politely to the attendant to head off a scolding, but she kept it open in her lap. While she scrolled through her apps looking for the articles she’d saved to read on the plane, out of the corner of her eye she spotted Champagne standing in the aisle. She was much taller than Roxanne had been able to ascertain while she’d been seated. Of course, it was hard to tell much when sprawled across someone’s lap. What she had been able to tell was that Champagne was smokin’ hot, and seeing her now, reaching up into the overhead bin with her well-toned arms, only confirmed her initial assessment.

  “I think you’re going to have to put that away before we can take off.”

  Roxanne reluctantly tore her gaze from Champagne and looked at the elderly woman in the middle seat. She smiled. “It’s all good. Laptops have to be stowed, but these,” she held up the iPad, “are perfectly fine.” She glanced at the white-haired man seated by the window, already snoring. “Is that your husband?”

  “Yes.” Middle Seat rolled her eyes and thrust out a hand. “Millie Lawrence, pleased to meet you.”

  Roxanne shook her hand and introduced herself. “Where are you headed?”

  “Same place as you, I imagine, Puerto Vallarta. Our kids bought us this trip for our sixtieth wedding anniversary.”

  “Wow, sixty years. That’s amazing.”

  Millie shot a look at her still snoring husband. “It’s a lot of work is what it is, but there’s no one I’d rather do it with than my Albert.” She patted his arm, but he didn’t budge. “He likes to think he doesn’t snore.” She rolled her eyes again. “He always has.”

  Roxanne grinned while an idea for a blog about anniversaries started churning in the back of her brain. “Do you have anything special planned to commemorate the big day while you’re in PV?”

  “Our son made us a reservation at a nice restaurant near the resort. It’s supposed to be a popular place for honeymooners, but a lot of people celebrate anniversaries there too. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Aguas Danzantes. It means dancing waters.”

  Millie waited with an expectant expression, and Roxanne nodded. Aguas Danzantes was next door to the Blue Wave resort, one
of the places that Roxanne planned to check out while in PV. “I actually read about it in a magazine last month.”

  “I bet it was Best Day Ever.”

  Roxanne wondered if the shock showed on her face. “You know, you’re right. Into bridal magazines, are you?”

  Millie waved a hand. “Not me, dear. My granddaughter is getting married in the fall, and she can’t stop reading everything she can get her hands on. She’s constantly showing me new dress styles, articles about where to have the honeymoon, what kind of cake to serve, the best favors for the guests. But I bet you know all about those things if you’re getting married too.” She looked down at Roxanne’s ringless hand and then back up at her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. When you mentioned you’d read about the restaurant in Best Day Ever, I just thought…”

  Roxanne could feel the warmth of a blush forming, and scrambled for a response. “Oh, no. I mean I did read the review, but the magazine was my sister’s. She’s getting married next year.”

  Millie nodded approvingly. “All the details wear me out. Albert and I got married in front of a JP and then drove to Galveston for a long weekend at his boss’s beach house. Nothing fancy, but I suppose it had staying power.”

  “Staying power is important.” It was on the tip of Roxanne’s tongue to mention that she was traveling to PV to research an article she was writing for Best Day Ever, but she quickly changed her mind. The key to the perfect write-up about PV as a honeymoon paradise was keeping her identity secret. Like a restaurant reviewer, she’d sample the experience, and then the magazine would send a photographer along later to capture all the moments. If the resorts found out she was writing an article, they’d likely put on a show that regular honeymooners might never experience.

  Luckily, she was saved from her impulse to divulge when the flight attendant came over the loudspeaker to detail the safety procedures. Millie watched dutifully, and Roxanne enjoyed watching her drink in the information as if she were hearing it for the first time. There was something refreshing about Millie’s naiveté. It was definitely a stark contrast to the bored expressions and often outright disregard the other passengers had for the in-flight warnings, although she could hardly blame them since her own mind started to wander as the monotone voice droned on. What had it been like having a wedding in front of the JP? Why the JP? Were Millie and Albert naturally no fuss folks, or maybe Millie’s parents hadn’t approved, and they didn’t have money for anything more than the marriage license?

  It was fun to ponder the questions, consider the possibilities. Weddings were so completely individualized, and everyone had different opinions about what made them special. The story idea that had jumped into her head a few minutes ago came back, and she jotted a few notes on her iPad and filed them away for later before she read over her notes for the trip ahead. She was headed to PV to do this honeymoon feature, and she was determined not to get distracted by shiny new ideas or hot women in first class.

  * * *

  Abby informed the customs agent she was in Puerto Vallarta for purely recreational reasons, but he’d stamped her passport before she could finish her sentence. Once she was on the other side of the counter, she pulled up the travel documents she’d saved to her phone and consulted the instructions about where she was supposed to meet the transport to the resort. Graham had meticulously highlighted all the important information she’d need immediately upon arriving in PV, and she quickly located the portion that said a driver would be waiting with the name of the resort on a placard. She looked up and glanced around but didn’t see anyone waiting for incoming travelers. She turned back to ask the customs agent if he could point her in the right direction, but there was a long line in his queue, and she decided to try to find her way on her own. When she turned back toward the airport exit, the woman who’d sprawled across her tray table earlier was standing right in front of her.

  “Need some help?” the woman offered, her blue eyes bright. She held her hands up, palms forward. “I promise I’m not going to spill any drinks on you.”

  Abby grinned. “You say that now because neither one of us is holding a drink, but how do I know you’re not planning on some drink spilling later when I’m least expecting it?”

  “Fair enough, but I’d like to point out that you were so deep in thought just now that I could’ve easily snuck up on you. Besides, didn’t you promise me a toast?”

  Abby took a moment to appraise the woman. Blond and blue-eyed, dressed in casual travel wear and carrying only a small suitcase, she sported a carefree vibe that said I travel all the time, follow me. Abby had traveled plenty, but most of it was for work with her former law firm and involved traveling in packs with other associates on trips that had been meticulously planned by an administrative assistant. “Actually, I could use some help. I’m supposed to meet up with a driver from my resort, but I don’t see anyone waiting. I’m thinking maybe they queue up somewhere besides right here.”

  “Good instinct. Most of them are outside by the taxi line. I’m headed that way if you’d like to tag along.”

  “Sure, but on one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “Funny you should say that. I was about to say we should exchange names. I like to know who I’m dealing with, especially when they’ve already been in my lap.”

  The woman smiled and her eyes brightened. “Seems reasonable.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Roxanne.”

  Abby grasped her hand. It was soft, but her handshake was firm. “Nice to meet you Roxanne. I’m Abby,” she said, noting Roxanne hadn’t offered a last name, leading her to respond in kind.

  “Now that we’ve been properly introduced, shall I lead the way?”

  “Please.” Abby watched as Roxanne picked up her one bag, and she felt a little silly about the two large suitcases and carry-on she’d carted along, but it had been easier to throw everything in her bags rather than taking valuable time before the trip trying to figure out what she’d wear in advance.

  Roxanne started walking and looked back over her shoulder. “You need some help with all that?”

  “I’m good.” Abby stowed her carry-on on top of one of the larger bags and pulled one with each hand, determined not to look foolish in front of the cute girl. Cute. No, that wasn’t the word. Pretty. Fun. Flirtatious. Yep, those all worked. Oh, and she had a nice butt. Abby started to scold herself about staring at the stranger’s ass, but stopped. She was on vacation for the first time in years, and if she wanted to ogle a cute, pretty, fun girl, then dammit, she was going to.

  The moment she’d made the resolution, Roxanne looked back again. “Everything all right back there?”

  Roxanne wore a big grin and Abby was certain she could see into the part of her brain that was completely focused on trying not to stare. After a minute, Abby decided there really wasn’t any point in pretending, and she very deliberately swept her gaze over Roxanne’s entire body, feeling warmer by the second. She stopped when she met Roxanne’s eyes and let a slow smile spread across her face. “Everything is absolutely okay.”

  A few minutes later, they were standing outside near a line of vans. Roxanne scanned the area. “Did the resort give you any ideas about what kind of vehicle to look for?”

  Abby shook her head. “I was expecting someone with my name on a placard, but other than that, I’m clueless.” She felt her face redden at her lack of detail, and she rushed to add, “I picked the place, but I didn’t do the actual booking.” She wasn’t used to not having all the answers, and now she felt a little silly for leaving all the arrangements to Graham.

  Roxanne contemplated her for a moment. “Did your booker give you any paperwork?” At Abby’s nod, she held out a hand. “Let’s see it.”

  Abby extracted her phone from her pocket, pulled up the detailed email from Graham, and handed it over. She watched while Roxanne skimmed the screen and scrolled through the rest of the email. When she looked back up, she was grinning again.

  “Wha
t is it? Did I miss the bus? Did I pick the absolute worst resort? I did a lot of research on this, but you know how the internet is.”

  Roxanne handed her phone back to her. “I hope you picked a good one because I’m headed there too.”

  Abby blinked, unsure if she’d heard Roxanne correctly. “You’re staying at the Azure. With me?” She felt the heat in her face again. “Well, obviously, not with me, but…”

  “Yep. We’re both headed to the same place. How about we find our van together?”

  “That sounds like a perfect plan.” Abby immediately started rearranging all her preconceived notions about her plans for this trip. Reading books and magazines, sunbathing with her AirPods in, listening to the podcasts she’d downloaded—all in perfect solitude. The allure of having Roxanne at the same resort made the idea of solitude a tad less appealing. She watched Roxanne scan the waiting drivers for their van, and admired her toned physique and easy confidence. The attraction was immediate and strong. She’d like to spend more time with this woman, solitude be damned.

  Of course, Roxanne might have different plans. Maybe she was here for some alone time as well and didn’t want the company.

  Roxanne pointed to a white Mercedes van. “Pretty sure that’s the one.” She glanced at her phone. “Yep, matches the description to a tee. Shall we?”

  Abby picked up her luggage and followed her to the van. Henry, the driver, introduced himself and handily stowed their bags before offering them a glass of champagne from the tiny fridge in the passenger compartment. Abby decided this was perfect synchronicity since she’d promised Roxanne a toast. Once they were settled, she tilted her glass toward Roxanne. “To a wonderful vacation.” A couple of beats of silence passed before Roxanne finally clinked her glass against hers, and Abby was certain she’d seen something flutter in Roxanne’s eyes when she’d said the word vacation and it wasn’t excitement or pleasure. She took a sip of the champagne and plunged in. “So, how did you come to pick this particular resort for your vacation?”