The Trade(45)

The perfect evening for a stroll.

Staring at her empty plate, I say, “I’m impressed you ate all of that.”

She pats her stomach again and smiles at me. “No shame. If I have pasta belly tomorrow in a two-piece, everyone is going to have to deal with it.”

“I’m sure no one will even notice,” I say, standing from my chair. And that’s because she’s fucking hot, and any skin that Natalie shows turns me on. “Ready?”

She looks around and then asks, “Think there’s a forklift that can help me out of my chair?”

I chuckle and offer my hand to help her up. I love how real she is with me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman pat her stomach after a full meal, let alone ask for a forklift to help her out of her chair, but that’s what makes Natalie so unique. From the very first moment I talked to her, she hasn’t hidden who she is, which makes her an exceptional human I want to be around.

After helping her up, I let her hand fall from mine even though in the back of my head, a part of me wishes I could keep holding on to it. We make our way down the steps, away from the restaurant and past the pool to a trail that leads through the native vegetation of the Caribbean.

“Would you ever live on an island?” she asks, pushing past a palm tree, her long dress swishing along the leaves overtaking the path.

“I don’t know,” I answer, sticking my hands in my pockets so I don’t do something like reach out and take hers. “It seems like a fantasy when we’re here on vacation, but I wonder if that fantasy would wear off if we actually lived on the island. Would we get annoyed with all the vacationers coming to get drunk and soak up our sun? Would we have island fever? Would we be able to live through the hurricanes and rising sea levels?”

She studies me, blinks a few times, and then says, “Way to take the romance out of the idea.”

I chuckle and tap the side of my head. “You have to think these things through. It’s how people wind up with vacation homes on islands and then are miserable.”

“Name one person you know who has a vacation home on an island and is miserable.”

“Umm . . .” I look at the dark night sky, appreciating the stars dotting the abyss. “Richard Branson?”

“As in Sir Richard Branson?” she asks. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he isn’t crying over his private island.”

“Maybe he is.”

“He’s not. Have you seen pictures of Necker Island? I keep telling Jason once we hit five million dollars in donations for The Lineup, he’s sending me on vacation there. It’s five thousand dollars a night, during the off season. And I know what you’re thinking, five thousand a night is pocket change to you.” Yup. “But to a girl who works for a non-profit, five thousand is a lot.”

“Is that your dream vacation?”

“One of them,” she answers as we cross a bridge that leads to the beach. We both bend and pull off our sandals, carrying them in our hands.

“Where else do you want to go?” I ask.

“The Amalfi Coast. It looks so gorgeous with the houses and buildings built on the side of a mountain. It’s one of those things I think you have to see in real life to gain an appreciation for the architecture.”

I nod. “The Amalfi Coast is on my bucket list as well.”

“Really?” she asks, a little surprised. “Why haven’t you gone yet? Not to be crass, but you have money, Cory.”

“Yeah, I know.” I laugh and then shrug, sinking my feet deep into the sand with each step. “I haven’t gone on many vacations to be honest. When I was in Baltimore, I usually went back to Chicago during the off season.”

“Why not travel?”

“Because”—I sigh—“traveling isn’t much fun when you don’t have anyone to enjoy it with. I would always take my family on one vacation after the season, but those started to dwindle with everyone’s lives getting busier and busier.”

“You want a travel partner.”

Just a partner in general. Someone to share the burden of life with, someone to come home to who will let me fucking hold them and cuddle into their back after a rough game or day. The more I think about having someone like that in my life, the more I want it. Milly challenged my determined life plan of singleness until retirement, and now it’s like the floodgates have opened and it’s all I fucking think about.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I guess it would have to be the right travel partner. When I went on vacation with Ansel, I always felt like I was dragging him out to do activities. He wanted to stay in the hotel and watch sports. He never wanted to experience anything.”

I can feel the scowl take over my face and thankfully, it’s fairly dark so Natalie can’t see it, but I can’t hide the disdain in my voice. “Why go somewhere new if you’re just going to sit in the hotel and watch TV?” And why the hell didn’t he get off his ass and do what his wife wanted, for fuck’s sake? It’s what you do when you love a woman. Ansel is an ass.

“It’s what he was comfortable with. Stepping outside of that comfort zone was very challenging for him. When we were in Hawaii a few years ago, I remember going on an ATV tour by myself because the Bobbies playoff game was on. Granted, I love the Bobbies—no offense,” she says from the side of her mouth, “but I wasn’t about to stay in the hotel room when there was a Jurassic Park tour I could go on.”