New Year in Paradise

1 She stood waist deep in turquoise blue water. The tips of her fingers traced the surface as she moved her hands back and forth, back and forth, touching the ocean as if it were a fuzzy blanket. The water was warmer than she expected it to be. Almost as warm as a bath, but not quite. Mellow waves, more like long bumps on the surface, pushed against her stomach rhythmically as they rolled in towards the beach behind her. Without looking, she knew the beach was white sand. Without looking, she knew there was not another soul anywhere in sight. The gentle beauty of this place was for her and her alone, and that knowledge filled her with peace. Flashes of bright orange, pink and green, flitted through the water. Tropical fish, dozens of them, moved fast and beautiful around her legs. She suddenly remembered that her feet were sunk into the ocean floor under the turquoise water. When she looked down she realized, for the first time, that she was fully clothed. Her best business suit, her interview suit, crisp and ironed until it hit the water at her waist. There the material, soaked through with salt water, floated languidly around her body. Her heart quickened at the sight. This wasn't good. It would be ruined. She couldn't replace it in time for her interview. She would either have to go to the interview in a sopping wet business suit or go n***d. Her heartbeat got even faster and, suddenly, she knew she was no longer alone. Glancing to her left first, then her right, just within her peripheral vision, she saw a sea of pink feathers looming. Flamingos. Hundreds of them. They made a beautiful, cooing kind of noise. Her heartbeat slowed. Calmer now. More brightly colored fish passed through the water in front of her. She knew what to do. Bringing her hands up from her sides where they'd been tracing the surface of the ocean, she found the small, business-like buttons that kept the stiff jacket closed, flicking them open until it hung loose. Shrugging her shoulders, she slipped it off easily, letting it sink into the water at her back. The cooing of the flamingos grew louder and she smiled, knowing they were encouraging her. Quickly, she unbuttoned her pale blue silk shirt that went so well with the grey of her interview suit. It, too, was taken by the ocean and fed to the fish for all she cared. Within a few moments, she was completely n***d, standing proudly in the turquoise water, tropical fish brushing playfully against her legs, a mass of flamingos pressing her on from behind. Without another thought, she took a deep breath and dove head first into the water. Rowan Murray, 'Ro' for short, woke with a start. Her eyes darted around in confusion for a few moments. She wasn't standing up to her waist in water. She was slumped uncomfortably in the middle seat on an airplane. Looking from side to side, Ro saw that she was not flanked by hoards of pink, cooing flamingos. Rather by oversized tourists, stuffed first into their khaki shorts and bright colored T-shirts, then stuffed into their seats and strapped in with a seatbelt. On her right was a thick middle-aged man with extra wide shoulders that took up all of the room across the back of his seat as well as some of the room behind her. On her left was an even thicker middle-aged woman. The woman had the window seat. She, too, was running out of room in her assigned area and was spilling over into Ro's narrow, middle seat. Ro sucked in her breath and looked down at her own form taking up the little room remaining between the larger than life couple on her left and right. Thankfully, she wasn't n***d. She'd been dreaming. Ro had a twinge of disappointment when she realized that she had not been swimming with tropical fish in a turquoise ocean. At least, not yet. "Dozed off, did ya?" The man asked with an enthusiastic smile. Ro nodded. She pulled herself back into a sitting position, which wasn't easy given the limited amount of room. "Well, you weren't snoring," he continued, laughing out loud at the thought of it. He may not have been sleeping, but he'd certainly been drinking. Ro instinctively leaned towards the woman. She may suffocate in the pillow of her bosom, but she'd rather do that then have to fend off any clumsy advances from an overly friendly seat-mate, accidental or otherwise. Slipping her phone out of the front pocket of her short, black T-shirt dress, Ro checked the time. Less than an hour until they landed. Less than 24 hours until her scheduled interview. "The captain said we're landing early," the woman told her, a smile lighting up her fleshy face. She nudged Ro, nearly knocking her into the intruding shoulder and bicep of her other neighbor, "You're anxious to get on with your vacation, aren't you?" "Actually, I'm interviewing for a job. I'm moving here," as the words came out of her mouth, Ro still could hardly believe it was true. "Moving to Playa del Carmen?" The woman, apparently, was blown away by the idea. "Really?" Mr. Big Shoulders chimed in. Ro nodded, "Really." "You're American?" The woman asked. Ro wasn't sure why that made a difference, but she nodded again as she answered, "Yes, I'm from Indiana." "How did you decide to move to someplace like that?" The woman asked, still a little dumbfounded at the concept. How indeed. The idea had come to her only eight weeks ago, the Monday after her 31st birthday. But Ro knew that the motivation behind it had begun almost two years earlier. Two years ago was when she'd broken up with her fiancé. Well, he'd broken up with her. Actually, he'd cheated on her with her friend and they'd had a huge fight where they broke up with each other. But, whatever. The end result was that they broke up and she moved on, mostly. Theo. That was his name. After the initial anguish of the betrayal had worn off, Theo had insisted they remain friends. And Ro, being a modern kind of girl, had agreed to stay connected on i********: and f*******: and such. Initially, watching Theo have fun without her was incredibly painful. She coped with it a little better when he went on what appeared to be long drinking binges full of meaningless one-night stands instead of dating one single girl. At least he wasn't marrying any of them. That fact kept Ro sane as she created a life after Theo, and their 'friendship' drifted into the realm of social media and occasional meeting at a mutual friend's party, nothing more. All had been well and Ro thought she'd truly moved on, until just after Christmas last year. An image of Theo with a blue-eyed blonde popped up on his i********:. It looked like they were at a bar and it looked like they were having fun. A lot of fun. For the next few months the blonde kept showing up more and more frequently. And Ro couldn't keep from watching. That's the thing about social media. It's a great way to keep in touch and a way to stay connected. But some things, perhaps, are better left disconnected. Ro knew with everything in her soul that there was something different about this blonde, something more in Theo's expression when they were cheek to cheek in a selfie. Ro knew because she had experienced first hand what Theo looked like when he was falling in love. He used to look at her the way he looked at the blue eyed blonde. Tamara was her name. Being the modern, independent, ex-fiancé who had moved on with her life, Ro handled the situation like a pro. She online stalked Theo and Tamara relentlessly. Daily. Hourly even. Winston, her friend from work, said she needed to delete Theo from all of her social media and her phone. Or, instead of deleting his phone number, rename him in her cell as "Jerk Who Slept With My Friend" or "Liar Who Asked Me To Marry Him Then Cheated", or something of that nature. She knew he was right, but Ro couldn't bring herself to do it. She was addicted to watching Theo and Tamara's relationship. Salaciously drinking in every perfect moment they shared. Ro watched as they fed each other sushi in New York, as Theo taught Tamara how to snowboard in Colorado, and when Tamara surprised Theo with the newest iPhone on his birthday. Their engagement, not even a year after meeting, threw Ro into a pity party of epic proportions. Still, she couldn't stop following their love story. The love story that was supposed to be hers. "They're not as happy as they look," Winston had told her for the thousandth time. "Guys like that don't change. He didn't change for her, she's just willing to put up with his bullshit so she can look happy on Instagram." He had walked into her tiny office and found her sunk in her chair staring at her phone, looking dejected. Moving some papers aside, he placed the hazelnut latte he brought her every morning on her desk. "I know," Ro groaned. She did know, yet her thumb kept scrolling through the images of Theo getting on one knee, of the pale blue Tiffany ring box, of the horse drawn carriage he'd arranged to carry them away, of the hundreds of congratulatory comments. "Maybe you should take a vacation," Winston suggested. He nodded towards the phone in her hand, "From that thing for sure." He plopped down in the chair on the other side of her desk, taking a sip of his coffee. His suit was a good cut and he wore it casually. A good looking guy, medium height, brown hair, brown eyes, Winston called himself the 'poster boy for average'. But he was cool, as accountants go anyway. Ro put her phone face down on her desk and picked up her drink, "There. Done." "Good, now book a cruise or something," Winston teased. "You're one to talk," Ro answered, grinning at him. "When was the last time you took a vacation, exactly?" It was a rhetorical question. They both knew Winston had never taken a vacation. She and Winston had started working for Strathum Inc. on the same day. They attended all of the on boarding Human Resources orientations together, and even filled out their health insurance and 401K forms while sitting next to one another. Winston was an accountant and Ro was an administrative assistant for the accounting department. They'd been at Strathum for over five years. In that time Winston had only used two weeks of his vacation time to help his aging parents move into a condo, one week for his Grandmother's funeral, and one week to attend his brother's wedding in California. "What can I say, I love my job," Winston said. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on her desk as if to show the level of his satisfaction. Ro looked around her small office, the multiple large framed posters of flowers, a sign that read "Welcome to the Accounting Department, Where Everybody Counts!" and her house plants thriving where they were perched on top of the file cabinets. Windowless, yet cheery, she'd moved into this office three years before when Cynthia had retired and Ro had taken her place. Now it seemed to Ro that she'd been in that little office her entire life. Watching other people get what they wanted while her dreams always fell short. Always ending quite unsatisfactorily. She'd just turned 31, and this was her life? Ro sighed, "I need more than a vacation from this place. I need a vacation from my life." And that's when the first nugget of an idea formed in her mind. The tiny spark of inspiration to change her life in a sweeping way started during that conversation with Winston. Every time she saw a new post from Theo where he and Tamara were taste testing wedding cakes or choosing their exotic honeymoon in Bali, she was spurred on to look for a way to upgrade her own life into one that was exciting and worthy to show off on social media. That initial spark had ended with her sandwiched between the two large tourists on her way to interview as a secretary to Cooper Rivera, owner of the Hotel Diamante in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Just three days before New Year's Eve. Her New Year resolution this year was to have a wild and adventurous life. Period. Ro's phone buzzed and she looked down to see a text message from Winston. It's quiet here without you. Let me know when you land. She smiled. Winston had taken her to the airport to see her off. He was the only person she would miss terribly, but she had to do what she had to do. He had moped about it for weeks, but in the end Winston was a good friend and he understood. A dinging sound rang through the cabin and the flight attendant's voice came over the speakers, asking them to turn off their electronic devices and buckle their seatbelts. The plane would be landing soon. Ro followed the instructions. If she craned her neck just a little, she was able to look around the form of the woman at the window seat and see a sliver of bright sun and blue sky. She knew Palm trees, white sand beaches and a turquoise blue ocean were somewhere below them right now. Maybe even Flamingos. Ro felt a thrill of possibility rush through her. Something she hadn't felt in a very long time. With any luck she would impress Mr. Rivera, land the job, and be ringing in the new year with a brand new life.