Emma had been in a semi-sleeping state when she heard the bird's morning serenade. As she became more conscious, she opened her eyes and realized that she had been so tired, she hadn't budged an inch from the position she had taken the night before. She pulled her right hand out from under the comforter and looked at her watch. It was 5:30am. Early… way too early for normal people but she knew it would take a couple of days before the jet lag wore off and she'd wake at normal hours.
She sat up in bed and passed her hand through her hair and looked towards the walk-in closet. Unfortunately, her luggage hadn't magically unpacked on its own whilst she had slept. She scooted out of the bed and debated whether to take a shower first or unpack. It wasn't until she was underneath the warm flowing water that she knew she had made the right choice.
By the time she had showered, unpacked and dressed it was 6. She headed down to the lobby of the hotel. Aside from a few staff members who were preparing the breakfast buffet and tables, the hotel was empty and quiet. She bade a good morning to those that she crossed on her way outside. Some seemed to care less, others smiled back and whispered amongst themselves. Both reactions were things she was completely used to.
She walked out onto the beach and sat down on the sand not too far away from the waves meeting it. She pulled up her knees against her chest and looked out at the horizon. Aside from a few seagulls flying overhead and a few boats out in the distance, things were very quiet on that front too.
She kept staring out at the horizon asking herself a million questions, almost like throwing out message filled bottles in the ocean, hoping someone would find them and give her the answers. If anyone had answers, then she was more than willing to hear them, because she didn't have any. That was the scariest part of all of it… not having the answers. If she didn't have them, then who would? She knew she was the only one who could decide but she couldn't. Maybe it was too soon? Maybe she needed more time away, to clear her mind, let the fog dissipate and then maybe it would be clearer in her head.
"Good morning".
She blinked a couple time, removing herself from her deep thought of reflecting on her life, past, present and future and looked up to the left. Her mouth parted, almost agape, at the sight of him.
"Good morning", she answered back as she placed the palms of her hands firmly on the sand, ready to stand.
He must have realized it as he put his hand out in a soft intercepting way. "Don't get up. I didn't mean to disturb you".
She stood anyway, and he suddenly felt guilty. He had seen her from afar and considering they were the only two people on the beach, it would have been rude not to say hi… that and the fact that, well.. he was kind of happy he had run into her.
"You're not disturbing me at all. Actually, I've been sitting here for a while and I'm afraid if I don't get up at some point in time, I'll end up like a sand statue".
He smiled as he looked at her. She was wearing a pair of grey cotton shorts, a pink strap top, that let the black halter bikini string show, and her NewBalance sneakers. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she looked great.
"Well, not that we've ever had any sand statues here before, but you'd be the most beautiful one, we'd ever have".
She smiled back, touched by the compliment. She tried to keep her eyes on his face, which was really hard, considering he wasn't wearing a shirt… and to top it off, his muscular chest and stomach were glistening with beads of sweat from his apparent morning jog. It was way too sexy for… what time was it anyway? Right, too sexy for 6:30 in the morning.
"I see I'm not the only one out at the crack of dawn", he said.
"Don't let the jetlag fool you. Another couple of days and I'll probably be sleeping at this time of the day".
He nodded.
"You always get up this early"? she asked curious.
"On most days I do. The hotel keeps me quite busy and doesn't leave much time for myself, so I try to get some exercise in early in the morning".
'Some exercise'? Thought Emma to herself. You didn't get that buffed and good with some exercise. Either he had really good genes or he was downsizing his workout time.
"How far do you run"?
He turned towards where he had come from and pointed to a hotel way down the beach. "I go up to there", he then turned in the opposite direction and showed the pier. "Then down there and back".
Emma nodded. "That's quite a run".
"Do you run"? he asked her out of the blue.
"I haven't run in years", she paused for a moment and thought, "unless you count running away from paparazzi".
He laughed. It seemed really easy to laugh and talk to her. He was truly surprised. They'd had so many celebrities over the years and most of them were inconsiderate, conceited or felt they were too important to talk to a simple hotel owner.
"Joke aside, I don't have as much time as I used to. It's a shame really. I know I shouldn't be neglecting my body, but there are only so many hours in a day, you know"?
Suddenly it dawned on her that she was maybe getting a bit too familiar with him. She felt like she was talking to a friend she hadn't seen in years. It was kind of misplaced and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel awkward about this run-in. She told herself to get a grip and not be so familiar.
"Well, I'm out here every morning at 6, so if you want to join me, you are more than welcomed to, discretion assured".
She smiled. "I'm not worried about discretion, I'm actually worried I won't be able to run that far and I'll make a complete fool of myself".
"Then we'll only run to the pier and back, it's the easiest part, it's all flat".
She placed her hand on her chest, like she usually did when she felt at fault. "Oh no. I wouldn't want you to change your routine for me", she paused again for a moment, "I think I'll stick to sitting on the beach, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Solano".
He gave her a nod of the head, indicating he understood perfectly well. He started to trot backwards as he headed in the direction of the pier.
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me", he trotted back towards her, "and if it's alright with you, you can call me Rafael.. Mr. Solano sounds too professional".
He turned around and started running again. "Have a nice day Miss Fontaine".
She laughed internally. Ok so maybe Mr. Solano was a bit too formal. But in all honesty, at that particular moment in time, she couldn't remember his first name. What was she going to say? Bro? Muscle Man? Hot stuff? She rolled her eyes at herself, feeling not only stupid, but like a teenage girl.
She kept her eyes on him as he got further and further away, as she headed back towards the hotel. It was nearing 7am and as she had suspected the hotel lobby and grounds were getting busier. She walked towards the breakfast lounge and waited for the manager to arrive to show her to a free table. As she did so, she looked around at those that were already seated. Most of them were families or couples, enjoying breakfast before starting out on their daily activities. There was no one sitting alone… she would be the only one.
"Good morning. A table for one"? asked the manager as she came up to Emma.
"Sorry. No, I was just looking around. I've booked room service".
She walked away as the manager took care of a group of people who had just arrived for breakfast.
She shook her head as she entered the elevator. Why had she lied? She hadn't booked room service. And why on Earth hadn't she sat down at a freaking table? When had it not become OK for her to be alone to eat breakfast. Since when did she start to care about what people might say or think? As she looked at her reflection in the elevator mirror, she didn't recognize herself, and she didn't mean it physically.
It was 1pm when Petra met up with Rafael in the lobby. He was fine tuning things for an event that was taking place that night at the hotel and he had been so busy, he hadn't seen the hours go by.
"I think something's wrong", said Petra as she fumbled with her fingers.
"I assure you, everything is set for tonight".
She frowned. "No. Not that. I'm talking about Emma Fontaine".
Suddenly Rafael got concerned.
"Oh no. What's happened"?
"Well, I don't know", shrugged Petra, "but apparently there must be something wrong. I haven't seen her out and about yet. And I checked, she didn't have breakfast at the restaurant either.".
Rafael dug his hands in his pockets and looked at Petra. "She's fine. I saw her this morning out on the beach. She probably preferred having room service delivered".
Petra's eyes grew wide open. "Wait!? You saw her on the beach this morning and didn't tell me"?!
It was his turn to frown. "I didn't know I had to tell you if I bumped into her. She asked for low-key and discretion, if you remember. I'm being discreet and low-key".
Petra crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Fine. Did she say anything"?
"About what"?
"I don't know? The hotel? The service? Us?"
Rafael seemed to think for a few seconds. "No. She didn't mention any of that".
"Then what did you guys talk about. I mean you did talk to her right"?
"Yeah, a bit".
Petra looked at him as she waited to know more.
"Then what did you talk about"?
"Running, paparazzi, jetlag. That kind of stuff".
In all honesty, he would have wanted to talk more about other things, but he had found himself a bit overwhelmed by her presence and was afraid that if he had talked about other things, he would have sounded like a teenager, not being able to get his act together in front of a really good-looking girl.
"You are useless"! spurted out Petra.
"What are you talking about"?
"You should be focusing on how she feels about the hotel, not running"!
"Why?" He then looked at her. "Petra, what are you up to"?
"Nothing", she said as she started to walk away.
He caught up to her. "I know you Petra, I can see those wheels turning in your head and they are massively in motion. What's going on"?
Petra stopped. "Alright. I wanted to ask her if she'd be the face of our celebrity campaign".
"What celebrity campaign"?
"My point exactly! You know how many celebrities come to Miami over a year's time? Hundreds.. You know how many come to stay at The Marbella? 6, if we're lucky and not the A-listers".
"And you want to use Emma to reel in the A-listers".
"No. I don't want to use her, I want to ask her for her participation, her collaboration. There's a big market out there Rafael".
"And you're going to give her a commission for every A-list celebrity that's going to come stay at The Marbella"?
"No".
"Exactly, so what makes you think, she'd even consider it. What does she get out of it"?
Petra said nothing. Rafael had a point.
"I'll have thought of something by the time she leaves the hotel".
"Do what you think you need to do Petra, but I think it's a bad idea".