Hi everyone,

This is a short fic 15 or so chapters... that is pre-written and will update probably daily. Another victim of stories getting reported and purged by FF. net...

It was originally pre-read and beta'd by texasbella and Midnight Cougar... I'm just posting it this time... So anything i've changed and all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any recognizable characters.

Rated M for the usual.

Isabella stood before the front desk, one hand gripping the shoulder strap of her garment bag and the other clenched tightly around the handle of her roll-along. Her shoulders ached from carrying the heavy luggage and her skin was dry and grimy from the long flights. The absolute last thing she wanted right now was a hassle, but judging from the way the clerk was frowning at the screen, she wasn't going to be so lucky.

The young woman behind the polished teak wood counter finally lifted her head and smiled a heavily practiced fake smile that grated on her like nails on a chalkboard. "And where is your husband?" her nasally voice trilled.

Isabella cleared her throat, leaning slightly closer across the counter as she lowered her voice, "There isn't one."

Her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 'Vicki', her name tag said. "I'm sorry, but I thought your reservation this week was for two people? I have it under a Mr. Paul and Isabella Lahote."

"It was," Isabella confirmed, staring at the bubbly redhead intently, like she could actually will her to understand without having to go into all the gruesome details.

It was like the proverbial light bulb came on over her head a moment later as Isabella watched understanding settle over her features. "Oh! Oh, um... my. I'm very sorry to hear that Ms... um... ma'am." She looked completely lost for a moment just as Isabella was starting to wonder if things could get more awkward. The clerk finally shook herself out of her daze and switched to a smile that was less perky and seemed almost genuinely sympathetic. "So, just you... and will you be staying with us for the whole week then?"

"It's paid for," Isabella smiled tightly through gritted teeth. And your goddamn customer service rep wouldn't refund the half-a-month's worth of salary I prepaid with, even when I almost broke down over the phone and explained how my fiance up and left me a week before the wedding.

"Right, of course. Well, let me welcome you again to Palm Bay Resort, and I assure you that all of our staff here are completely devoted to making sure you have a very memorable honey... um, vacation. A memorable, relaxing vacation." Vicki returned her attention to the screen, her long fake nails clicking rapidly against the keys. "Now, Ms..."

"Swan," Isabella filled in quickly, wishing this whole process would just be over already.

"Right. Ms. Swan, it looks like you've reserved one of our Honeymoon Cottages along the beach?"

Isabella sighed.

The six hour flight from Seattle to Miami had been difficult enough to endure. But the worst part was the smaller charter plane to the island with the empty space beside her in the two-seat row almost mocking her, reminding her that she wasn't supposed to be making this trip alone, had been devastating. She was tired, hungry, still more or less grieving, and if she was going to fight to have to keep the reservation that just a few days ago she couldn't do anything to get out of, she was going to throw a fit right here in the middle of the immaculate lobby.

But instead, all she said was, "Yes, that's right," using the same arched eyebrow she used when a subordinate was about to explain how they'd screwed something up.

Vicki blinked, her blue eyes widening just a little. "Right." She gave the mouse a few more clicks, and then the beaming smile slid back onto her face. "I'm very happy to report that since we've had a last minute cancellation, we can offer you the Honeymoon Villa instead. It's our largest unit and offers the most privacy, at the far end of our property. The beach is a teeny bit rockier, but there are some magnificent plantings around it that provide a screen from the rest of the resort, if you're looking for peace and quiet."

And this way none of the happy couples here have to wonder who the loser is wandering around all alone, Isabella uncharacteristically thought to herself. Aloud, she said with a forced smile, "That sounds great. Thank you."

Ten minutes later, Isabella was trudging along a curving stone path, past a row of brightly colored beach cottages that had her averting her eyes. They hadn't looked so... bright... from above. And yes, she'd used Google Earth to look over Palm Bay Resort and the other five places on her list of finalists to make sure she knew what to expect. What if they had been next to a swamp, or a busy highway, or something else that didn't show in the official websites? Or what if the room's interiors didn't match the scene outside? Was the view worth traveling hundreds of miles for? Isabella had to be prepared.

'There is a difference between being prepared and being hopelessly anal retentive', she could hear Paul's voice in her head, nagging at her, but she quickly shut it out. She wasn't here to do that. She was here to put all of that shit behind her and relax.

She'd never looked at the Honeymoon Villa though, since it had been so far out of their price range. Even an assistant manager who was rising quickly through the ranks, because of her attention to detail, only made so much money. Not to mention a former mechanic, who as of late, couldn't seem to keep a job for more than six weeks because he dreamed of becoming a professional surfer, but really he'd just rather be sitting on the couch—

Deep breath, Isabella reminded herself. She inhaled, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of tropical flowers and the salty tang of the ocean—no, the sea. Don't think about him. Think about here... about now... and whatever else that stupid therapist said.

She rounded the corner of a tall hedge, pushing back a palm that was overgrowing the walkway, and stopped dead in her tracks. "Wow," she said out loud, taking in the sight before her.

The villa was not, thank God, a bright pink cottage like some of the others she'd walked past. It was a two-story structure with a thatched roof, clean cream stucco walls and beautiful dark wood trim. It was perched atop a small cliff, which made her feel better for being slightly out of breath. The view it commanded was of endless, crystal clear turquoise water, studded with jagged black rocks and topped with frothy white waves. The only sounds were the crashing water and the chirping birds echoing from the forest at the back of the villa.

The path wound past a pair of palm trees that were leaning towards each other like lovers, and Isabella rolled her eyes at her sentimentality. "Just because you're the only person that's ever stayed here that's not going to get laid, even the damn trees need to rub it in," she muttered to herself. She hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and trudged the final few steps to the front door. God, the shower was going to feel so good.

Let me know who's here and what you think!

Jess