A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first mediator fic, so I'm sorry if it isn't really that great.

This is totally AU. Suze doesn't have her mediator abilities, Jesse is alive, and so is Suze's Dad. This whole fic is based on a book I just finished reading—"Tropical Kiss" by Jan Coffey, and some things are familiar to the book.

All mediator characters belong to the wonderful Meg Cabot!

Enjoy!

3 Allie

Peter was late as usual.

I wasn't surprised. He always forgot to be at things concerning me: doctor's appointments, basketball games, and graduations. It figures that he couldn't even spare the time to pick up his own daughter up the airport.

As I walked off towards baggage claim, a huge sign greeted me: WELCOME TO ARUBA.

Why am I in Aruba, you ask ?

Well ……

2 months ago

"You're getting married," I stated simply. I looked at my mom, with her neatly pressed cotton skirt and her flowery top, she looked beautiful, and looked at me with excitement in her eyes.

"Yes! Oh, isn't it wonderful? We'll be a family again! And you told me yourself that Andy is a nice guy," she said, practically jumping up and down.

And it was true. I did say that he was nice. He was actually pretty perfect for my mom. Except the fact that he lived in California, and my mom and I lived in the most wonderful place in the entire U. S. of A: New York City. Which meant that I just had to move to Andy's place. Moving meant transferring to a different high school for my senior year. Moving also meant that I would leave my best and only friend Gina behind.

Just great.

"So when's the big day?" I said, ignoring how she said that we'd be a family again. We'd never be one again. If we had to be a family, Peter would be included. It's been hard since they divorced 10 years ago, when I was just only 7 years old.

"Um," she looked uncomfortable. "We going on our honeymoon first, and setting up the wedding when we come back."

"What?" No one does that! It's traditional to have the wedding, and THEN the honeymoon. Duh.

"Don't give me that look Susannah Simon. This is what Andy and I want to do. We're spending the rest of the summer down in Hawaii. So I've arranged for you to stay with your father in Aruba," she said.

"WHAT!" I repeated. Me and my dads relationship isn't exactly what you call a close one. As soon as my parents got divorced, his job relocated him to Aruba, of all places.

Anyway, spending the whole summer down there with him wasn't exactly what I called fun.

"You never know Suze, this might be a good chance to get closer to your father again…." she stopped in mid sentence while I glared at her.

"Or it might be a great way to improve your tan!" She added.

Whatever.

I walked over to the baggage claim and instantly found my suitcase. So far so good. I looked around, and saw there were no liens for immigration, no multiple conveyer belts for peoples luggage's. Everything went by smooth with no interruption or problems. I was in and out in 10 minutes.

Wow. I'd stood in line for a Happy Meal longer than 10 minutes. Maybe this whole Aruba thing won't be that bad.

I exited the airport, and stood on the sidewalk outside, waiting for Peter… if he ever came. The whole place was bare. No one was standing outside. It seemed like all of Aruba was inside the little airport.

I breathed in the smell of the air.

Oh yes, the pungent odor of jet exhaust. Just wonderful for my asthma.

I spotted a bench over by the side and sat on it. I suddenly felt an itch down inside of my cast that was on my right leg.

Why was it that when you had an itch, it was always farther down from where you could reach? That always bothered me. Stupid cast.

I wouldn't have had this cast if it weren't for my ex-boyfriend. He broke up with right before junior prom, saying that I was too "cold" and "never liked to display my feelings for him in public" Ha! Yeah right. He only said that because I refused to have sex with him the night before.

Dirtbag.

So anyway, back to how I got the cast. After he broke up with me, I was devastated. He was my first real boyfriend, and I really liked him. Even though he broke my heart, I was still set on going to prom. I wasn't going to let a stupid guy make me miss the dance.

So as I was walking down the steps with my gorgeous Jessica McClintock pink ruffled dress, I tripped by accident on the way down from the steps.

I was in the emergency room the whole night of prom.

And the whole way in the ambulance, I couldn't help but think, My heels are so ruined.

Pathetic, huh?

The doctor said I was stuck with the cast for 3 weeks, and that I would be getting it off at the local hospital in Aruba.

Because of my day dreaming, I hadn't noticed that a man now occupied the seat next to me.

And without asking! Humph. Ignorant twit.

I glanced at him. He had a straw hat on, with a large Hawaiian shirt. His nose looked like something had mistaken it for a chew toy, and his chin could have easily been mistaken for the butt of some huge porcupine.

Porcupine Butt. That's what I'll call him for now.

Oh, me and my immatureness. I love it.

He saw me looking at him, and he took of his sunglasses and smiled.

Oh great. "American girl abducted from deserted Aruba airport" I could just see it now on the newspapers.

"Hello there, what is a pretty girl like you doing all alone?"

"Um, I'm waiting for someone," I simply said. I was used to old guys trying to seduce me. It wasn't common back in the city. I just moved over to the side, trying to tell him that I didn't want to make any small talk.

"American?"

Jeez, was it tattooed on my forehead or something?

"Yeah, I am"

"Traveling by yourself?"

"No," I said. " I'm spending the summer with my father"

"Does he work for the oil company?"

"No,"

"Casinos? Hotel manager?"

"No, and No," What was this? Twenty Questions? I tapped my foot hurriedly on the ground. Where the hell was Peter?

I pulled my crutches with me as I began to stand up and move to a different spot. This guy was annoying just like a mosquito. I just wanted to step on him and hear that crunch sound.

Just then, a sleek, black Jaguar pulled up next to the side of the curb. It's windows were tinted, so I couldn't tell how many people there were inside.

Porcupine Butt looked over to me, "That's my ride. My nephew is here. Do you want to come with us?"

"I'll pass," I said and started hobbling to go back inside the airport. But he caught my wrist instead.

"Are you sure? Come on, it'll be fun,"

FUN! Sure. Fun was going down to the beach for a swim and scoping out hotties with abs.

Last time I checked, being kidnapped into a Jaguar wasn't that fun.

"Listen, my dad happens to be a high, a VERY high, ranking officer for the United States government. And he has friends in VERY high places. So would you mind getting your filthy hands off my shirt?" And with that, I started to walk back.

Actually, my dad didn't work for the US government. As long as I've lived, my dad worked behind an office desk the whole day as a business accountant. How fun.

He glared at me for a second, and then walked into the expensive car. What a loser.

But then suddenly, I felt a strong hand on my shoulder again. I hated it when people touched me, especially if I didn't know them.

So without thinking, I turned around and swung my crutches as hard as I could into what looked to be a man who was standing behind me. I stood there appreciatively has the guy staggered backwards and held his knee. Also a colorful amount of curse words erupted from his mouth.

I took one look at him and instantly regretted hitting him. He was young, and dressed in khakis, with a green polo shirt on him. On his feet were loafers with no socks. Kinda gross, but I dismissed it.

He ripped off his sunglasses and stared at me. I gasped a little bit. His eyes were gorgeous brown eyes that I couldn't stop staring at.

"What the hell was that for?" He yelled. There was murder in his eyes. Jeesh. I didn't think I hit him that hard.

"Self-defense! You grabbed me!"

He scowled at me, "Self defense? You were backing right into me!"

"You practically materialized out of nowhere," I retaliated.

"I came out of the side, actually," he said. I looked at him closely. He looked like he was from Spanish decent; his voice had a little accent. He had a nice build, as I could tell from his abs that were showing from under his shirt. Very nice. I was actually surprised that I was strong enough to knock him down.

So all those kick boxing tapes did work. I've got to buy more of those!

His hair was jet black, and looked perfect on him. It was spiked a little bit at the top, but then came down around his face. I had to admit this guy was hot. But he looked way too serious.

"It's not very nice to sneak up on people," I huffed.

"I wasn't intentionally trying to sneak up on you, you backed into me," calling after me as I started walking away. I didn't need this crap on the first day I was here in paradise. "Aren't you going to say you're sorry, Señorita?"

I was right, he was Spanish. Total turn on for me.

"I'm sorry," and I continued walking away, picking up my bags along the way. But, as I bent down to pick them up, I leaned over my crutches too far and fell flat on my face.

Ouch.

My crutches collapsed on the cement and all my bags dropped.

Way to be smooth, Simon. I scolded myself in my head.

I heard footsteps on the cement, and raised my sunglasses to see the Latino hottie standing next to me once again.

"You have tobeSusannah Simon."

"I would prefer if you called me Suze. No one calls me Susannah anymore," I pointed out. It was true. If you called me Susannah, chances are I'd punch you. To say the least.

"No, I think I'll call you Susannah. It suits you. And it's a perfectly beautiful name," the hottie said. And I had to blush at his remark.

I gave him a blank stare, and with his help, he slowly guided me to stand up. My skin tingled when he let go of my shoulder. Calm down Simon, I thought.

"Who exactly are you?" I questioned.

He ignored my question, and started to pick up my luggage, "Do you know that I've been looking all over this airport for you?" I couldn't help but stare at the way his muscles bunched under his shirt as he picked my bags up.

Yummmmmy with a cherry on top and a sprinkle of jimmies.

I shook my head and stopped looking at his strong arms, "Who are you?" I asked again , trying to show how annoyed I was.

"Hector de Silva, but you can call me Jesse," he took a hold on the last two luggages, and instead of rolling them, he grabbed onto the handles in a total macho fashion and started off down the sidewalk.

Show off.

"HELLO?" I called after him. When he didn't answer, I tried "running" as fast as I could with my crutches. It hurt. A lot.

"Is your name supposed to ring any bells?"

He finally stopped and stared at me, "Jesse de Silva? Peter Simon's assistant…?"he moved his hand in that motion you make when you're asking the person if they need to say anything more. (A/N: I didn't have any other way to describe it…lol. sorry)

I stood there for a while and thought about it. Then I replied with a simple, "No,"

"I'm a summer intern and I was hired for the summer to work for your dad," he stated, and started walking off to the parking lot again, but was talking as he was walking.

Ha, talking and walking. It rhymes!

Hey, stop looking at me like that.

"I was told that I was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. I stood there over an hour waiting for you. Because of you, I'm a half an hour late for something else," he said.

What a grouch.

"No one told me anything about someone picking me up. And how would you know what I looked like?" I questioned.

"There are some pictures of you on your father's work desk. I look at them once in a while."

Oh great. Those pictures were probably of me when I was a child, or from my junior high graduation. I was not that great to look at back then, braces totally ruined my life.

Curse those metal contraptions.

I pulled down my sunglasses and looked at his handsome face over the top, "Do you have an ID or something? How do I know your not a stalker or whatever?" I placed my hands on my hips and looked at him expectantly.

"Nombre de Dios," Jesse muttered, and took out this leather wallet. He showed me his driver's license.

"You live in California?"

"Yes. I'm a college student at UCLA." He stopped in mid sentence. "But why am I telling you this, you could be a stalker or something," he snapped his wallet shut and started walking to a black Jeep.

Was he ….mocking me?

Immature.

But then I thought to myself…

Do I really sound like that?

Whatever. It wasn't my problem he was being so rude to me before.

Jesse placed all 6 bags of luggage into the jeep, and quickly drove it around to the curb I was standing. He actually got out of the car to help me in. I couldn't help but feel my stomach flip and turn as he took a hold of arm and gently lead me inside.

He smelled wonderful, also. Kind of like spice and mint.

"I suppose you didn't tell your father about your cast?" he stated, and I saw his eyes linger on my cast.

Or was he looking at my legs?

Whew, thank god I shaved last night.

I hurriedly pulled my skirt down just over my thighs, thinking that it had ridden up. But still, a young, and extremely hot guy was just looking at MY legs!

Fantastic.

"How much longer till you get that thing off?"

"Two weeks," I said grumpily. I didn't miss that look Jesse had on his face. He was probably thinking if he could handle me for two weeks or not. It's not like I was that much of a burden.

He got on the road, and we were both quiet for the time being. I looked around at Aruba and was amazed. Everything was beautiful, and palm trees lined the clean and paved road. There were dozens of shops, and restaurants. The cool air ruffling my hair felt really good. Tanned faces were looking back at me, and music was playing everywhere. Aruba was such a happy place.

Jesse finally interrupted the silence, "This is the city Oranjestad. This is where you want to go shopping, eat at restaurants, and do whatever."

( A/N: Yes, this is a real city. But I have no clue how to pronounce it.)

I found that comment a little sexiest. Does every guy think that all girls do is just shop? Jesse doesn't know me, and he automatically thinks I love to shop. Does he know that I like to work out and do kickboxing? Does he know that? Huh ?

I didn't think so.

I strongly disliked stereotyping. It should be banned, for like, ever.

"Really, and how do you know this? Do you like to shop?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He ignored my comment and kept driving.

It's a good thing he's so hot, or I would've slapped him for ignoring me.

To try to keep the mood light, I kept asking more questions, " Are there any good clubs to go to at night?"

Jesse looked at me from the side and pulled down his shades. I noticed that he had the longest eyelashes I've ever seen on a guy before. His brown eyes looked perfect on his tanned skin.

Get a grip Suze. I thought to myself. My mind kept thinking about him and his gorgeous face, and I didn't like it one bit.

"Aren't you a little young for clubs?"

I was shocked, did I look that young?

"I'm seventeen, as a matter of fact," I simply stated. And thanks to my super intense vision, he was nineteen according to his license.

He was about to say something when a white corvette pulled up next to us at the stoplight. Four blonde girls about my age were in the car, and waving madly at Jesse.

"! I love you Jesse!" The blond in the front cooed, and batted her eyelashes at him.

Oh, please. Spare me the mushiness.

I saw Jesse's tan face blush a little bit from embarrassment, and he suddenly gunned the engine and drove off, leaving the girls in the dust.

"Looks like someone has a fan club," I teased him, and he looked the other way from me.

So, this is a touchy subject for him. I'd have to ask him about it again later.

"So, is there anyone living with Peter?" I wanted to make sure there were no live-in girlfriends trying to get with my dad.

"Why do you call your father by his first name? Isn't that disrespectful?" Jesse asked.

"I don't know," I said. The real reason was that I never felt like my Dad really loved me. He was always out on business trips, only stopping by once in a while to greet my happy birthday.

So, he never really was a dad to me. That's why I started him calling by his first name. And it sort of stuck the rest of the way I grew up. He wasn't really bothered by it.

"And no, he doesn't have a girlfriend, or anyone living with him inside the house. But there is a guesthouse that he has right across the courtyard on the property," Jesse said, as he turned into a very well-off development on Mangrove Street.

"Okay, that's not that bad," I admitted quietly.

"But there's a malfunction in the electricity in the guest house, so sometimes the person has to go inside the villa and share the kitchen," he said.

"That could be bad," I said, talking to myself.

"A nice hombre is renting though. He's very polite and fun," he stated.

"Oh really? Do you know him?"

He just nodded his head.

"Is he young, or old?" Gosh, Jesse wasn't one for explaining details. It seemed like it was me asking him all the questions.

"Young, he just moved in about three weeks ago."

I started talking to myself again, thinking how good and bad it could be about a guy- a young one- living on the property.

"Do you always talk to yourself?" his coffee colored eyes lingered on my face. I felt a blush creeping all the way up my neck. I never usually get this shy over a guy.

But I could tell that this Jesse person wasn't just any guy.

"Do you ever watch the road?" I fired back at him, and he turned to face front. I could see a little smile turning up at his lips. Jesse was just getting more and more handsome.

Unfortunately.

I tried to ignore that my pulse was going double-time, and my stomach was doing that weird flip flop thing again.

Damn hormones.

Jesse finally pulled up onto a secluded road, and I gasped as I saw Peter's house. It was GIGANTIC. Not to mention gorgeous. Palm trees and lush vegetation were scattered along the side. There were no other cars parked in the driveway.

I knew that Peter wasn't going to be here. Oh, well. It's not like I had my hopes up to start a new father-daughter relationship.

Jesse parked the Jeep near the guesthouse, and I started to get out of the car. But , being the accident prone girl that I am, I totally landed flat on my face, for the second time today.

Jesse rushed around the car to my side and helped me up. "Are you alright, querida?"

"What did you call me?" I don't particularly like it when people call me things in other languages. I liked the way he said it, it pretty much rolled off of his tongue. 10 points to him for sexiness.

But by the way he called me querida or whatever, it had to be good.

Right?

Or I could be totally wrong, and he could be calling me a loser, jinx, bimbo, dumb…or WHATEVER.

He dismissed my question, as usual, and brushed off the dirt that was on my legs. Tingling sensations erupted all over my body from his touch. And let me tell you, it felt good.

After getting brushed off by Jesse, I looked over to the guesthouse and studied it. It was a nice little place. It looked like the size of my garage that I had at my old house.

"Do you know the name of the guy who's living there?" I asked, pointing at the guesthouse.

"Yeah. As a matter of fact, I do." Jesse turned away and reached into the car, grabbing my suitcases one by one. And once again I had to restrain myself from looking at his abs that were peaking under his shirt. Jesse most definitely worked out on his days off.

Once he had my bags, he started walking all macho and what not, to Peter's villa.

"Okay. So what's his name?" I asked, obviously he didn't like to elaborate anything at all

He paused momentarily to turn around and face me, "His name is Jesse de Silva." and with that he continued walking without another word.

Jesse de-

HE WAS JESSE DE SILVA!

It looks like I'll be spending a lot more time with him this summer.

A/N: So what do you think? This chapter was a little long, and I'm sorry that it was too slow in the beginning. Hopefully it didn't bore you too much. It'll get much better. I PROMISE!

I'll try to update as soon as I can, I've got so many sports camps this week.

Review!

from,

Allie