Every Vow You Break(21)

He pulled up right to the front of the bunk. Its low roof was covered in bright green moss, and its wooden front door was edged in flowering vine. Abigail was admiring it when the door swung open suddenly, and she jumped. A tall Asian man stepped out into the dusk light. He was wearing khaki pants and a crisp white shirt, and he took two bounding steps to the Land Rover and opened the door. Chip said, “Meet Paul. He’s going to take care of anything you might need during your stay. Stocking your refrigerator, bringing you extra blankets, wake-up times, although I hope you won’t require those. He comes with River Rock, so feel like you can call on him anytime you’d like.”

Paul showed them inside. Abigail knew it would be fancy, but she wasn’t entirely prepared for just how serene the interior was.

There was a large stone fireplace in the center of the cabin—the bunk, Abigail reminded herself—a fire already going. In front of the fireplace was an overstuffed leather couch along with a beautiful cocktail table constructed from a single dark green stone speckled with yellow. “That’s where this bunk gets its name,” Paul said, as Abigail touched the stone. “It’s a river rock.”

“Beautiful,” she said.

“Everything in here is handcrafted, including the bed,” Chip said.

Abigail walked over to the king-sized bed, its sleigh-style frame made from dark refurbished wood. There were lit lanterns on either side of the bed, and Abigail thought they were real until she remembered that Bruce had told her they were battery-powered, just made to look real. Above the bed was a framed poster from the movie Midnight Lace with Doris Day and Rex Harrison. Abigail spun, and looked at Bruce.

“No, it’s not a coincidence,” he said. “It’s a gift.”

It had been the first film they’d watched together, the second time she’d spent the night at his apartment in New York. They’d been talking about favorite thrillers—well, Abigail had been the one mostly talking about her favorite thrillers—and Bruce had brought up Midnight Lace, a film he’d watched with his mother when he was young. Abigail had heard of it but never seen it, and they’d watched it in the wee hours while still in bed, eating popcorn and drinking champagne. She’d loved the film.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve given me,” she said now, about the poster, embarrassed that Chip and Paul were in the room with them.

“Nicer than the ring?” Bruce said.

“Yes,” Abigail said without hesitating.

“I think she means it,” Chip said, then quickly added, “We want to get out of your hair, and I’m sure Bruce explained everything, but there are electrical outlets in the bathroom, and you do have a refrigerator, but that’s about it for electricity. There are no screens anywhere on the island, and we suggest you put your phone and laptop, if you brought one, somewhere out of sight. There’s no wireless and no cell service. You gave our number to somebody in your family?”

He was looking at Abigail, and she said that she had. Her parents, plus Zoe, had the resort’s landline, just in case there was some emergency.

“I won’t lie to you. Our guests can get a little wiggy in the first twenty-four hours from not having any access to the internet. Trust me, though, it passes. In one day, you won’t think about it, and next week, when you leave, you’ll wish you could live every day without a phone.”

“I’m excited,” Abigail said, meaning it. Even though she’d grown up in an era of social media, her parents had not allowed her a smartphone until she was fifteen years old, and she still reminisced about life before Instagram and Snapchat.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Paul, want to show them the provisions?”

Paul led them to the refrigerator, carefully hidden behind a wall that must have been original to the bunk, but the wall somehow slid soundlessly to the side. Inside the refrigerator there were craft beers, several bottles of wine, and an array of cheeses, charcuterie, olives, and designer water. “This is just a start,” Paul said. “Anything else you want, just let me know and I can get it for you.”

“Oreo cookies,” Abigail said, and Paul nodded at her. She realized he had taken her seriously, and she quickly said, “I’m just kidding. You don’t have Oreos here, do you?”

“We don’t, but like I said, anything you want, and we’ll get it.”

“No, no. I was just kidding.”

There was a set of French doors that led to a back veranda with a view of the pond, its surface now orange beneath the setting sun. “Cocktails at the lodge at six, but some guests like to have their cocktail hour in their bunk instead.”

Abigail looked toward Bruce and shrugged.

“We’ll have cocktails in the lodge,” Bruce told Paul, then looked at Abigail and said, “I want you to see it.”

Paul showed them a few other amenities, including a button they could press to summon him, then he slipped quietly out the front door and Bruce and Abigail were alone. She started to laugh.

“You didn’t say it came with a butler.”

“Get used to it, babe,” he said.

“I don’t know if I can, but this place is beautiful. I just want to live inside this bunk for the entire week.”

“You can do whatever you want.”

After unpacking their things, Abigail and Bruce took a bath together in the deep freestanding tub surrounded by candles.