Emily had a feeling it was going to be a good vacation when she met the pilot, whose name was Darla. Darla was a wrinkled middle-aged lady, not exactly Byron’s type. And as with all his employees, he was respectful and kind with her, but never improper. Emily felt slightly bad about rejoicing that a woman wasn’t very attractive, but she had grown possessive of her man.
After a few hours’ flight over the Pacific, they landed on the island. It really did seem like a special place. The smells of many different flowers reached her, enchanting her senses as soon as she stepped off the plane. The sun beamed down gently through a haze of clouds. It was the kind of place she had only dreamed of.
“Thanks, Darla,” Byron said as he bid the pilot goodbye, “See you in a couple of days.”
“A couple of
