ASHLEY:

      Steph is giving me a rather concerned look, and I quickly glance around to see if there's someplace out of sight of the table where we can go so I can fill her in on the problem. But before I can start moving away, the guy looks up, spots us, and calls out, "Hey, Steph! Over here!" His companion glances up, and her eyes get big, then she hops out of her chair and dashes over, flinging her arms around my neck.

      "Oh my God, Ash! It's so great to see you again!", she squeals, earning us inquiring looks from both her fiancee and Steph. "I mean, what are the chances of us not only running into each other here, but being here with people who already know each other?"

      I sort of half-heartedly return the hug, saying, "Hey, Alyssa. Trust me, I'm just as surprised as you are. You're pretty much the last person I was expecting to bump into."

      She gives me sort of an odd look, so I'm guessing that she's managed to pick up on my general lack of enthusiasm, but before either of us can say anything else, Steph queries, "Aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend, babe?"

      "Uh, yeah, sure. Steph, this is Alyssa Fulmer. She used to model for APFI on occasion when she lived in LA, and we'd hang out and party every now and then. And Lys, this is my girlfriend, Stephanie Logan." I make sure to put a slight emphasis on the word "girlfriend", and even though the guy doesn't seem to notice, the girls obviously do, because they both raise their eyebrows at me, looking sort of surprised.

      "Wow, not something I've heard you say in quite awhile," Alyssa remarks. She turns to Steph, and says, "Nice to meet you, Stephanie. Joaquin has told me a bit about you, he says that you're a pretty talented artist. But this is a bit of a surprise, because I knew dozens of girls back in LA who would have given up a limb for that title, but Ash here was having none of it, so what's your secret?"

      "I'm still trying to figure that one out myself," Steph chuckles. "And it's nice to meet you, too. JT was talking you up quite a bit last night, too. You're a magazine editor, right?"

      "He was exaggerating just a bit, I'm only an assistant editor right now," she explains as we finally move toward the table. He stands up from his seat, and I see that he's about my height, but a bit more muscled-up, with a squared jawline, and wavy black hair that just hits his collar. He stands up from his seat as Steph and I approach the table, reaching across to shake my hand as Alyssa moves to stand next to him, both arms around his waist, and says, "Ash, this is my fiancee, Joaquin Soto."

      "Nice to meet you, man," he says. 

      "You, too," I reply as I shake his hand. "I notice that Lys here calls you Joaquin, but Steph has been referring to you as J.T., so do you have a preference?"

      "Nah, I'll answer to either one," he chuckles. "That got started back in fifth grade, when there was actually another kid named Joaquin Soto in my class. The teacher was trying to figure out how to distinguish between us, so she asked what our middle names were. I'm Joaquin Tomas, and he was Joaquin Carlos, so we wound up being J.T. and J.C., and it's just stuck since then."

      Steph and I sit down, and we all make small talk until the waitress comes to take our orders. Once she leaves, J.T. asks about how we met, and we lay out most of the story, without actually going into detail on my stay at the hospital, or any of the issues that went along with it. Then when we finish, Steph asks them for their meet-up story, and he informs us that they met just over a year ago when he had been chosen to be on a sports-themed calendar that was being put out by the company she worked for, and had been together every since. "Well, that definitely gives you a good story to tell in your memoirs later on," I remark. Then, keeping my tone as casual as possible, I inquire, "So you've been together for a year, but how long have you actually been engaged?"

      "Since November," he responds. "I actually popped the question right after Thanksgiving dinner with her folks."

      She looks across the table at me, her cheeks slightly flushed, and I can tell from her expression that she's silently begging me not to say anything. I look away, refusing to give her any sort of reassurance, and see that Steph has caught on to the fact that something is going on, because she gives me a questioning look, and I reach under the table and give her knee a slight squeeze, mouthing "Later, okay?"

      She nods, and we continue the conversation until the arrival of our food, which is good enough that it takes precedence over talk. I wind up swapping one of my mahi-mahi tacos for one of Steph's crab cakes, and she starts trying to figure out what they've put in both dishes, writing down her guesses in a notepad she keeps in her purse so she can try to recreate them at home. As she's doing this, J.T.'s phone rings, and when he answers, it's obvious that the call is from someone on the hotel staff. "Hey, babe! What time is your spa thing tomorrow?" he asks Alyssa.

      "Ten-thirty, why?"

      "Because they just said that they had a cancellation for the parasailing group, and since there has to be two people, I have to let 'em know right now if we want the spots," he informs her. "It's a one-hour event, and we'd have to be ready to go by ten."

      "Babe, you know I don't really care for that sort of thing," Alyssa responds. "But you can go ahead and do it if you want. There's no reason why you have to sit and be bored while I get a facial and a pedi." She pauses for a second, then suggests, "Why not take Ash or Stephanie with? Maybe one of them would like to give it a try."

      He turns to look at us questioningly, and I ask, "Have you ever been parasailing, love?" She shakes her head, so I say, "I've done it a few times, so if you'd like to give it a try, I can hang at the cabin and work on some sketches until you get back."

      "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asks, and when I assure her that I don't, she agrees to go along. So he books the openings, and as we finish up our lunch, he and Alyssa inquire about whether we might be available to hang out again later this evening. This concerns me for a minute, but I manage to hide my relief when it turns out that our plans to see a ceramics exhibit by one of Steph's former teachers at one of the local galleries overlap with the concert they've already bought tickets for, which means that we're on our own for the rest of the day. We sit and chat for another half-hour or so, until a couple of larger groups come in, and we realize that they're going to want to clear out the stragglers.

      So after settling our checks, we say our goodbyes and they go off to do whatever they have planned, while Steph and I head back to our cabin. As we walk, we make small talk about the food, and some of the scenery that we're passing, but as soon as I close the cabin door behind us, she stops just in front of the door with her arms crossed, and demands, "Okay, it's 'later', so how about telling me what the hell was going on with you? Spill."

      "That's what I was just about to do, darlin'," I reply. "But I guarantee you're not gonna like it."

      "From the look on your face when you spotted them, I kind of gathered that. But why don'tcha give me some specifics? Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

      I can't stop myself from letting out a rather sarcastic laugh at this, and I say, "No, it's actually worse than I thought, cuz now more people have gotten dragged into it. But here goes; Do you remember the night that Shannon had her party?"

      "How the hell could I forget it!?" she blurts, "I think that's gonna stick with everybody who was within earshot of Shannon's phone, considering all the noise that chick was..." Her voice trails off, her eyes go wide, and as she finally grasps what I'm telling her, she facepalms. This muffles her voice a bit as she groans, "So you're telling me that J.T.'s fiancee was the 'surprise visitor' that you blew us all off for? That my brother's best friend is engaged to a two-timing bimbo? No wonder she reacted so oddly when you asked how long they've been engaged!"

      "Yeah, I'd say that just about covers it," I say. "I could see that she wanted me to keep quiet about what happened that night, but I was in just enough of an asshole mood to let her squirm a bit."

      "I guess I can understand that, but shouldn't we say something?" she huffs in frustration. "I mean, I can't just stand around and let J.T. marry someone who would do that, can I?"

      "Kinda hard for me to say, since I don't really know the guy," I point out. "Would he actually believe us if we told him, or no?"

      She pauses to consider the question, and admits, "I'm not sure, I haven't actually talked to him for several years. Max would probably be able to answer that better than I could."

      "Then why don't you call him, and get his input?"

      She pulls out her phone and starts tapping rapidly, saying, "I'm not sure what his duty schedule is right now, so I'll text him and ask him to call back as soon as possible." She sends off the message, then walks over and wraps her arms around my waist, leaning her head on my chest. "If I don't say anything, he's gonna get stuck with a cheating skank, and have to deal with all sorts of shit when he eventually finds out," she mumbles. "And if I do tell him, I can't be sure if he'll believe it, which would mean that he could get pissed off with me, and it might even cause problems between him and Max. And either way, the poor guy winds up completely heartbroken. So I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't."

      "Yeah, I know, it sucks all the way around," I reply, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "But try not to worry too much right now, we'll figure something out." I feel her nod an acknowledgement, but before I can say anything else, my phone chimes, letting me know that I have a text. I work it out of my pocket, figuring that it's probably one of the guys calling to bug me about the album, but when I pull up the message, I whistle and tell Steph, "Actually, I think I may have something here to back you up." She leans back a bit, and I show her the message I've just gotten from Alyssa, which reads: 

      "Ash, PLEASE, keep quiet about that night at your house, it'll ruin everything if he finds out. If you tell him, I'll have to return the favor and give your girl a heads-up, too."

      I spend a few seconds putting together a response and show it to Steph, and when she gives me a thumbs-up, I send her my answer, which reads, "Be my guest. She's known about it since right after it happened, so blackmail isn't gonna help you out." 

      We wait for a response, but get none, so I drop the phone on the end table and turn my attention back to Steph, since she's obviously still upset over the situation. "I'm really sorry, babe," I whisper, as I rub her back. "This was supposed to be our time to have fun and relax, and now it's all screwed up."

      "No, it isn't, and you don't have a damn thing to apologize for," she replies. "We weren't dating when you hooked up with her, you didn't know that she was engaged, and judging by the look on your face when you first spotted her, you obviously didn't know she was going to be here. So please explain to me how any of this is your fault here? Yeah, it sucks like an Electrolux that I'm probably gonna have to drop this on J.T., but better now than later, I guess. At least he won't wind up getting taken to the cleaners over alimony, or fighting over custody of kids. If he believes us, that is." 

      "Tell you what, when you two go parasailing tomorrow, leave your phone here with me, in case I need it, and you take mine. That way, you can show him this text if you need to. It'd be kinda difficult to deny that, don'tcha think?"

      She agrees, then lays her head on my shoulder and starts nibbling just below my earlobe, which she very well knows is one of my weak points. "Are you trying to start somethin'?" I murmur, as most of my blood supply starts traveling to my groin.

      "Mm-hmm," she responds, giving my lobe a slight nip before raising her head to look me in the eye. "I'm thinking that we might need a little somethin' to take our minds off of all the bullshit for awhile, so why don't we just stay here and... entertain ourselves until it's time to get ready for the exhibition?"

      "You know you'll never have to ask me twice," I chuckle, as I start moving toward the bed, while working her shirt over her head. In no time at all, our clothes are scattered around the room, and we wind up having a very good time in the Jacuzzi. This definitely reduces the stress levels a bit, and once we dry ourselves off, we make our way to the bed to cuddle for a bit until we have to start getting ready. I see that she's actually about to drift off to sleep, but just as I'm about to pull the covers over her and let her nap, her phone rings, showing a number I don't recognize.

      "Steph, babe, you've got a call," I say as I gently shake her shoulder. "I don't know the number that's calling, so you should probably take it." I hand it to her, and she peers at the screen with half-open eyes, but quickly becomes alert and accepts the call, switching on the speaker so I can hear. 

      "Hey, Max, I wasn't really expecting to hear from you this quick," she says. "Usually you don't return my calls for a day or two."

      "Cause usually I'm too damn busy running around like the dude in the old Dunkin' Donuts commercials, but I've actually got some downtime today," a male voice responds. "Also, you seemed pretty insistent that I call you ASAP, and it kind of worried me. Is everything okay with you and your fella, or do you need me to pull a couple days off to come pound his ass?"

      "Everything is fine between me and Ash," she informs him. "Although he is kinda involved with the issue I want to discuss with you. I've found out something bad that involves J.T., and since you probably know more about how he'd react, I'd like your opinion of whether I should say anything, or just mind my own business."

      "Gimme the details. What is it, and how bad?"

      She and I outline the situation for him, making it very clear that it happened before we started dating, and that Alyssa had made no mention of a significant other. He listens quietly, only asking for clarification of a couple of details, and when we've finished, he's quiet for a few seconds, but then one of the most colorful and inventive streams of cursing I've ever heard comes pouring out of the phone. He's using combinations of words that have never even occurred to me, and I glance over at Steph and inquire, "You did say that he's a Marine, right?"

      "Yeah, why?"

      "Because I've always heard people talk about 'cursing like a sailor', but I think he's blown that right out of the water, so to speak."

      "Yeah, us jarheads tend to be overachievers," he retorts. "It's kind of in the job description. Y'all aren't even serious about keeping him in the dark about that so-called fiancee of his, are you? Because that would be a shit move for both of you."

      "That's pretty much what I thought, but I'm not sure he'll believe it," Steph explains.

      "Oh, I'm sure he won't want to," her brother agrees. "But he's a sharp dude, and he's known you since you were a kid, so I'm pretty certain that he'll know that you wouldn't just try to blow smoke up his ass for no real reason. But if he does decide to be an asshat over it, let me know, and I'll have a word with him myself. Besides, if he does feel the urge to take a float trip down Denial River, you do have that text to show him, right? That should at least make him stop and think about things for a minute."

      After a bit more discussion, she agrees to pass on the information, although she's obviously less than thrilled about the idea. Then we spend a few minutes discussing her family's visit to LA, which will be my first time meeting her parents in person, instead of just on Skype, and the first time that Max and I will actually see each other, period. Then he has to go check in on his platoon, so we end the call, and decide to get ready for the exhibit and head out for dinner a bit early. We take an Uber downtown, and find a really nice Vietnamese restaurant just around the corner from the gallery, so we have a bit more time to relax and enjoy our food before the exhibit starts. Then when we get there, her teacher is surprised, but happy to see her, and actually introduces her as "one of the five best students I had the pleasure of teaching during a thirty-five year career". This has her blushing like a fire truck, but since she's told me more than once that this was her favorite teacher, I can tell that it's something she's very happy to hear. By the time we go back to our cabin, her mood has definitely improved, and she informs me that she's decided not to get overly stressed about tomorrow, and she's just looking at it as "Ya gotta do what ya gotta do". And fortunately, this mindset actually seems to help overcome her tendency to have trouble going to sleep when she's worried or upset about something, so we both manage to get a full night's rest.

      When we wake up, we decide to get room service instead of going out for breakfast, and just chill for a bit before she goes to meet up with J.T. She asks me to help her decide which swimsuit to wear, and I convince her to wear one that Macy bought for her to bring along, which is a black and turquoise two-piece, consisting of black boy-short bottoms with a turquoise one-shoulder top that comes down to a point at the hem, dropping past the waist of the shorts, and has black octopus tentacles printed on the front. Then, after he calls to say that he's heading for the dock, she swaps phones with me and heads out, leaving me to find something to keep myself occupied until she gets back.

      I decide to just go with the idea I had yesterday and work on some drawings, since I brought a sketchpad along to fool with if I have trouble sleeping or something. I retrieve it, and a couple of pencils from my bag and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, but before I can even open the cover, I hear a knock on the door. I figure it must be housekeeping, so I head for the door to ask them to come back later, but I glance through the blinds before I open it, just to be sure, and immediately grab Steph's phone to send a text to mine.

      "Gonna call you in a few seconds. Don't say anything, just turn on the speaker. I have a visitor."

      I pull up her speed-dial, so I can send the call quickly, and hopefully without being noticed. Then I open the door and say, "Hey, Lys. I wasn't exactly expecting to see you here. I thought you were booked for a pedi."

      She toys with the belt on her beach robe, gives me a rather snarky grin, and replies, "Change of plan, hon. Aren't you gonna invite me in?"

      "Sure, why not?" I say, holding the door open. Then, as she moves past me, I hit the call button, set the speaker, and deposit the phone on top of the dresser. Once that's done, I turn around to face her, and say, "Okay, I don't have all day, so start talking. What the hell do you want?"