Beatrice
"What do you mean, she never checked in?" I demand, pounding on the check-in counter at the Intercontinental in Bora Bora.
"Yeah, what do you mean?" my mother-in-law Bessie demands, pounding on the counter too.
"She had to check in. We have plans. Big plans!" Lillian, my friend Olivia's soon-to-be mother-in-law yells with her finger pointed to the sky, like she's John Adams, arguing for Independence.
My husband Cole slips his arm around my waist to calm me. "Ma'am," he says to the check-in lady, who has backed up against the wall with the phone in her hand, ready-I imagine-to call the Bora Bora cops on us. Cole's voice is low and smooth and makes me want to jump his bones right here in the lobby. I would have thought by now that I would be immune to his charms and frankly, tir
