Prize of a Lifetime

Sasha glanced at her friend. “I know. My stomach is doing flips. This is the first time I’ve ever been out of the country, not to mention a contestant on a reality television show.”

April patted Sasha’s balled-up fist. “You’ll be fine. If you didn’t have what they were looking for they would have never picked you. The main thing is to have a good time. Enjoy the experience, girl. Getting away from Savannah will do you a world of good no matter what happens. And I’m only a phone call away.”

Sasha drew in a deep breath. “Thanks,” she said, suddenly doubting the logic of what she was about to do.

“And you look fantastic! Just like the star you’re going to be.”

April was always good for a pep talk. Whenever Sasha felt down or doubted herself, it was April who reminded her of all of her strengths: great personality, intelligent, ambitious, pretty and a wonderful friend.

“The months in the gym and sticking to my diet have sure made a difference,” Sasha had to admit.

“You are going to have dem island boys salivating,” April said in a really bad Caribbean accent.

They laughed.

April pulled up behind a white SUV in front of Delta’s international departure gate.

“Well, here we are.” April turned to Sasha. “Ready?”

“As I will ever be.”

They hopped out of the car and took Sasha’s luggage from the trunk. She had two suitcases and a carry-on, all loaded with brand-new everything, from undies to beachwear, casual to spectacular, shoes, makeup and accessories. The duo had been shopping for weeks to make sure that whatever the occasion, Sasha would be ready and fierce.

April gathered Sasha in a tight hug. “It’s going to be great. Enjoy every minute of it,” she said in her friend’s ear. “And make sure you keep me posted on your every move. I want to live vicariously.”

“I promise.”

April signaled for a skycap to help with the bags. “You have all of your important papers, phone and personal items in your carry-on, right? Something to read?”

Sasha nodded.

“Condoms? A smart girl always carries her own.”

Sasha blushed. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, laughing.

“Good. Well…this is it, girl.”

“Did I tell you thank-you?” Sasha said.

April grinned. “About a dozen times.”

“I wish you were coming.”

“Chile, you gonna meet some fine island man and forget all about me,” April teased. “Just remember poor old me when you win that million!”

The friends embraced one last time, fighting back tears with smiles, before Sasha pushed through the revolving doors and was swallowed up amongst the crowd of travelers.

Sasha checked her luggage before moving through the long line of security, and sent up a silent prayer that it would arrive in the same place that she did. After being nearly stripped naked, she put back on her sandals, her jacket, her wristwatch and belt, returned her laptop to her bag and finally emerged into the waiting area. For a while there she’d thought she was going to have to take off her lipstick, too. She pulled her carry-on behind her, hoisted her purse up on her shoulder and went in search of an empty seat, preferably one with a view. There was still an hour to wait before her flight departed and she wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

She spotted three vacant seats in the corner near the check-in counter. Maneuvering around outstretched legs and luggage she made it to the other side of the counter and plopped down in a seat with a sigh of relief. She took a quick look around at the passengers, sizing up who was with whom and who was single, who was on vacation and who was traveling on business. She wondered how many were going all the way to Antigua and how many were getting off at the stopover in Puerto Rico. From what she could tell there was a nice cross-section, but no one that really stuck out. To occupy herself she began making up stories about the passengers, pairing up those who were single, and conjuring up images of the couples and what their lives were like. She checked her watch. A whole ten minutes had gone by. Sighing, she shifted in her seat then dug in her purse for the novel she’d brought with her.

“Anyone sitting here?”

She looked up and her heart jumped in her chest. A chocolate-brown Adonis stood above her, almost a dead ringer for Michael Jordan. “Uh, no.”

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

His voice was rich, like maple syrup with a slight drawl, she thought. “Sure. I mean, no,” she sputtered nervously.

He smiled and lowered his long, lean body into the seat, spread his thighs and pulled his bag between them.

Sasha zeroed in on her book and tried to concentrate on words that were making no sense over the tantalizing scent of his cologne. Heat pooled at her neck and flooded her face as she watched from the corner of her eye, as his slender fingers tapped against his thigh.

“That’s what I should have done,” he said.

“Uh?”

He lifted his square chin toward her book. “I should have brought something to read to kill some time.”

“Oh,” was all she could come up with.

“Are you going all the way to Antigua?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yep. First time?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“I’ve been there once. Beautiful place.” He drew in a breath and she gulped as his broad chest spread beneath his fitted black T-shirt. “Perfect weather, incredible beaches and the people are great. They have their share of poverty, but they try to keep that away from the tourists.”

“What brings you back? Business?”

“Something like that. What about you?”

She closed her book and was on the verge of telling him her amazing story, but remembered the clause in her contract. “Vacation.”

“Vacation? All alone?”

She wasn’t sure if his question was just curiosity or an indictment. “I…decided to be adventurous.”

One corner of his full mouth curved upward. “I like that. It takes a lot of courage to travel alone.” He paused. “Mitchell Davenport.” He stuck out his hand.

“Sasha Carrington.” She placed her hand in his and nearly sighed out loud when his warm fingers enveloped her hand, and his soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners.

“I should let you get back to your book. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really.” She offered a small smile. Say something, dummy. “Do you live in Savannah?”