Chapter 3: Too Much Of A Coincidence

1330 Words
Schuyler Exiting the backseat of the taxi, I immediately fall in love with the green vegetation, bright flowers, and the stone facade of our resort. Dallas tips the cab driver before speaking to the bellhops about our luggage. Soon enough, she joins me on the steps leading into the lobby. As we stand in line at the front desk, I scan our surroundings. The windows have no glass to keep nature out. Grand archways lead guests to the front doorway or a walkway toward the beach and guest rooms. There are more open windows than flat wall space in the lobby. Green foliage and bright blue sky extend everywhere I look. "Ladies, I have drinks!" A bartender extends the round tray with two glasses of slushy, red beverage topped with a lime wedge and an umbrella. Dallas wastes no time taking the two glasses and passing one to me. "Compliments of the men at the bar." The bartender nods in their direction. While we turn to look, the bartender returns to his area. Dallas smiles and waves at the four men who are staring at us. She tucks a rogue strand of hair behind her ear while flirting from a distance. I lean in close and whisper, "All drinks are free at the resort. You're flirting with cheapskates." Dallas looks at me, sticking out her tongue. "Don't be a spoilsport. Four hot guys were thoughtful enough to send us drinks while we wait in line. Now, get with the program. You need to smile, make eye contact, and flirt all week." I roll my eyes, and she swats my shoulder. We step forward when prompted, sign a few papers, and receive our wristbands and our keys. As I turn towards the exit, Dallas approaches the guys at the bar. I freeze in my tracks, my back toward them, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. Afraid of what she might say about me and “goal number two," I reluctantly join them. "We're heading to the beach bar at seven," one of the sun-kissed men states. "We'd love it if you would join us, so Joe's fiancé isn't the only woman in our group." "Where are our manners?" The guy stands. "My name is Rich, and these are my friends." He sweeps his arm wide. "Joe gets married in two days." He points to a man with raven hair, styled meticulously. "His fiancé will join us tonight at the bar. Over there is Calvin, and here we have Garret." He points to each man, his blonde hair swinging as he gestures. I take in the group of men, relaxed in the casual seating of the lobby bar. All four guys are handsome, but not the guy-next-door good looks; they're movie-star handsome. Dallas quickly falls for their story, but I reserve my judgment. I need more information before I will trust anything they say. For all we know, these guys are here on spring break and not for a wedding. Against my better judgment, I agree to accompany Dallas to the beach bar. Although she plans to find herself a guy, I'm just here to have fun. I pull our door shut behind me as a petite blonde exits the bungalow next to ours. "Hi," she greets, waving at us. I wave back, and Dallas engages. "Howdy, neighbor." "Welcome to paradise." The blonde crosses her arms over her chest. "What do you have planned for your first night?" "We're headed to the beach bar," Dallas shares, leaning against our door frame. "Me, too. I'm meeting my fiancé and his friends there," she announces. "Your fiancé's name wouldn't be Joe, would it?" I inquire. If it is, I will have to admit to Dallas that I was wrong. "Yes! How'd you know?" The blonde moves from her door, motioning for us to walk with her. "We met him and his friends at the lobby bar when we checked in," I admit. "They invited us to join you tonight," Dallas adds. "Awesome! I won't be the only girl." She claps with a wide smile. "My name is Drew." "I'm Dallas, and this is Schuyler..." Drew interrupts Dallas's introduction. "What are we waiting for? Let's go join the guys!" As we round the corner, the petite Drew bounds over and sits in Joe's lap. "Look who I found." She points in our direction. "You came!" either Rich or Garret expresses his surprise while rising to stand near Dallas. I can't remember which one is which. "Thought we'd check out the scene. We can always move on if we need to." Dallas twists a blonde strand around her finger as she looks up through her long lashes at each of them. Leave it to Dallas to flirt while issuing a challenge. It works; all four guys seem up to her challenge of entertaining us for the evening. Dallas's words prompt the men to instantly sit up straight, smirks on their faces, and nod, accepting her challenge. Garret or Rich, I need to learn who's who, motions for me to take the empty seat between Joe and Calvin. Then he snags a nearby chair, sliding it over for Dallas to sit beside him. "What a coincidence," Drew shares. "Their room is next to mine." Her eyes sparkle with delight as she looks excitedly around the group. I don't know that I would call our accommodations a room. Dallas's parents spared no expense. We're staying in what the resort calls bungalows. The front doors all open to a small, round courtyard. Inside, a large, open common area boasts unobstructed views of the ocean and a bar area filled with snacks beverages. The first door in the hall leads to a large tile bathroom with a huge walk-in shower and a jacuzzi tub. The other doors lead to two separate bedrooms, complete with king-size beds and sliding glass doors with views of the beach. A small private pool lies just outside the bedrooms. I mean, seriously, who needs a private pool in a resort with multiple pools and a large beach? What the heck? My hand flies to the spot on my neck where something just hit me. In my lap, I find the offensive object is a pretzel. Dallas's snickers lead me to believe she's the culprit. She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head to the right, signaling towards Calvin at my side. She will not let it go. I discreetly shake my head, hoping she will not embarrass me. "So, Calvin, what do you do for a living?" Dallas asks, clearly attempting to start a conversation between the two of us. "I'm finishing my MBA," he states. "Calvin's crazy," Joe announces. "The rest of us thought four years of college were enough." The guys all laugh and jeer at Calvin–he takes it well. "What college?" I pry, trying to move the conversation along. He swivels in his chair, looking in my direction. "Northwest Missouri State..." Dallas's loud voice startles him. "No way!" All eyes move to her. "That's where we go!" She gestures between the two of us. "Really?" Calvin asks, looking only at me. I nod. This is too much of a coincidence. I wonder if Dallas set all of this up ahead of time. I wouldn't put it past her to have found guys on campus and arranged for them to vacation in Mexico and conveniently bump into us. "What's your major?" Calvin asks, leaning back in his chair, eyes still on me. His gaze is intense. "Elementary Education," I answer. "Dallas is studying Marketing." "We're seniors," Dallas brags. "I graduated last spring," Rich, I think, states. "I can't believe we never bumped into each other on campus." "Calvin doesn't engage in campus life," Joe states matter-of-factly. Calvin seems uncomfortable. From the seat next to him, I'm able to see a hint of sweat speckle his brow; he clenches his hands tight in his lap. I feel the inexplicable need to rescue him.
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