At eight o’clock we finally decided to call it quits. Jasmine lagged behind as the rest of her friends stalked tiredly toward their cars. I didn’t look at her when she spoke.

‘That guy. I’m gonna find out who he is.’

Her voice troubled me. It was dreamy, tinged with longing. I felt something, a new feeling I’d never felt before. From reading and watching movies and being a generally cultured person, I recognised the feeling of jealousy. Not full-blown jealousy, just a tiny hint of it. As a fairly realistic person I knew that the guy would never be interested in me, and I knew full well that Jasmine was someone any guy would be interested in. I sighed sadly, then realised that Jasmine was looking at me expectantly.

‘Um, did you say something?’

‘Yeah, I said it looked like you recognised him.’

I blinked at her. ‘What? Of course I don’t. I’ve never seen the guy before.’

Okay, I had. I’d glimpsed him this morning, but that didn’t mean I knew him. And for some reason, I didn’t feel like sharing that with Jas.

‘Oh right,’ she said. ‘Jake seemed to know who he was, so I’ll add him on Facebook as soon as I get home.’

I nodded, trying to clear my features from any emotion. ‘Sounds good.’

Jas and I hurried to catch up to the others. Standing by their cars, I smiled broadly.

‘Thanks for today guys, it was fun.’

They all nodded in agreement, then filed into the cars. Jasmine gave me a look, and I forgot all about Mr. Cocky, holding my hand up against my ear in the shape of a phone.

‘Call me tomorrow when you’re free!’

‘I sure will, girlfriend,’ she assured me before closing the door to the car.

I watched them back out and drive away, wafting up sandy smoke in my face. It stung my eyes and made me choke, and I covered my nose and mouth as I stumbled toward the hotel.

Since I was coming from the parking lot, I walked around the perimeter of the hotel, past the scuba diving department, which was held in a garage built under the overhang of a tennis court, shadowed by over-grown palm trees. I half walked; half choked my way along the tiny path that trailed by the garage to the hotel’s main entrance. In the shadows, I saw something stir, and I squinted to make out the contours of a tall man.

While I gasped in shock, he spoke. ‘You look a little sunburnt.’

I glance down at myself, confused. Sure enough, he was right. I wasn’t burnt red like a white-skinned Northerner, but my tan had a slightly reddish tint to it. I frowned. Normally I never burned, which was why I never bothered to apply suncream. Evidently, my skin’s resistance had slightly deteriorated.

When I looked up again, the stranger had stepped out of the shadows, now illuminated by the same lamppost that revealed my sunburn. It was none other than Mr. Cocky.

At last I found my voice. ‘Normally I don’t burn. I guess I was out too long today.’

‘You should get one of those after-sun creams.’

I noticed then that his voice was wonderfully dark, rumbling deep inside his chest and washing over my skin like a hot and heady breath. I didn’t dare look at him, so I focused my gaze somewhere behind him. ‘And where can I find that?’

He shrugged. ‘Pretty much anywhere; a kiosk.’

I nodded, realising that my question had been stupid. I seemed to have trouble thinking clearly.

‘You’re pretty good with a racket,’ he continued.

I goggled at him, horrified. His mouth was twisted up in amusement. Had he been watching me play? An image of my overweight body wobbling about in the sand sprang into my mind. Embarrassed, I felt my face heat up in an unattractive blush.

‘I, um, yeah. I guess I’m okay.’

He snorted. People actually did that? I dared to look him in the eyes and was lost before I could even begin to regret it. His eyes were a deep colour of…what? I couldn’t see, couldn’t focus. I wanted to step closer, to identify the colour, but of course I couldn’t.

‘You’re better than okay,’ he said. ‘How come?’

I was caught off guard by his question. I mulled it over for too long, managing to appear mentally impaired. ‘I used to play tennis, so I guess that could be it.’

His phone rang then, interrupting our awkward conversation, if you could even call it that. He nodded at me before picking up the phone, and I nodded back before scurrying along the rest of the cobbled path and into the safety of the hotel. I stood there for a while, trying to catch my breath.

Up ahead I saw my uncle, still wearing his tan pants and white shirt, though there were sweat patches on his back. He noticed me and called me over. When I reached him, he routinely asked how I was and then proceeded to drop a bomb on me.

‘Mithra, I wanted to talk to you about a job proposition.’

I simply stared, waiting.

‘Our receptionist isn’t particularly good. You’ve probably noticed. I had my last straw with her today; she’ll be dismissed. I was wondering if you’d be interested in working as a receptionist here?’ His brown eyes regarded me hopefully.

At first I was dumbfounded. Then I realised this was an excellent opportunity, and without really thinking, I found myself saying yes.

‘Thank you, uncle! This is great. It’s gonna be fun working here; much better than working at my dad’s,’ I admitted.

He laughed and nodded. ‘Think you can start next week? We’ll teach you everything you need to know, and if you have any questions whatsoever, you only need to ask.’

Tomorrow was Thursday. I had four days left of freedom before I officially began to work. I nodded enthusiastically. ‘No problem! I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Good,’ he said, and with a smiling goodbye, walked back into his office.

Back in my room, I plopped down on my bed, trying to remember everything that had happened today.

I had woken up late at eleven, had breakfast, then I’d been lazing about reading a book until Jasmine had called. Then the beach. Then I’d had a weird encounter with someone I could easily call the handsomest man I’d ever met. Then I’d been offered a job. Huh. I couldn’t call it a bad day.

I glanced at my turquoise watch; it was nine o’clock. I hopped in the shower, rinsing salt water out of my hair, thinking about cocky grins and deep, rumbling voices…