Island Hopping E-Book

Ann Omasta

• Herausgeber: More Happily Ever Afters
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

She’s the workaholic everyone loves to hate. He’s perfectly content basking on the beach. Can these two polar opposites find enough common ground to let their undeniable spark of attraction ignite?

Lizzie Lowe didn’t mean to steal her best friend, Roxy’s, fiancé the night before the wedding. It happened, though, and now Lizzie’s desperate to make amends with Roxy’s family for that dumb mistake.

Knowing her planning skills are needed to avoid having Roxy’s sister, Ruthie’s, reality television wedding turn into a complete disaster, Lizzie follows the family to the lovely island paradise of Antigua.

Local island slacker, Shay Sanders, is the last man Lizzie can imagine playing a role in her organized, structured life, yet he keeps miraculously saving her from difficult predicaments. 

Two crazy grandmothers who despise each other, TV producers intent on gaining ratings by any means necessary, and the perfect storm all combine to create a hilarious game of one-upmanship that the entire world is watching.

Who will come out on top? Start reading Island Hopping today to find out.

Leseprobe

Island Hopping

The Escape Series

Ann Omasta

Contents

Free Novella!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

The Escape Series Books

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About the Author: Ann Omasta

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Copyright

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Get Aloha, Baby!

1

I’m not overly surprised when I look out the window and see the naked, wrinkled, and saggy white butt pointed in my direction. Knowing this is just the woman’s latest antic to try to get under my skin, I refuse to allow it to bother me.

After unlocking and raising my living room window, I yell outside through the screen, “Good morning, Baggy!”

Standing up to her full four feet, eight inches of height, with her pants still around her ankles, the spry little old lady turns around to glare at me. She’s obviously disappointed that her prank didn’t upset me.

Shaking my head, I decide the least I can do is play along with her ornery game. “That’s a good one. You really got me this time, Baggy!”

At this the older woman beams and yanks her pants back up. Raising her fist in the air like she has just won a race, she toddles back down the road towards her house, without giving me another glance. Hopefully, that means she is done badgering me, at least for the rest of the day.

She has been trying for months to punish me for hurting her granddaughter, Roxy. I can’t even get mad at the old lady’s crazy shenanigans because I deserve whatever she dishes out in my direction.

Roxy is my best friend. Or was. We’d been best friends since our first day of preschool. The fact that I stole her fiancé, Gary, the night before her planned wedding to him still doesn’t compute… even in my own mind. It is so far removed from everything I stand for. It’s like I threw the whole ‘sisters before misters’ thing out the window for that brief moment in time. I can’t believe I let that loser kiss me after their rehearsal dinner.

That ill-advised kiss set off a whirlwind of events, including Gary texting Roxy on the actual day of their planned nuptials to tell her the wedding was cancelled because he and I were in love.

The fact that he texted her with this information should have been a major clue to both of us that Gary was not a great catch. Telling her that he and I were in love because I made the mistake of letting him kiss me once is such a wildly preposterous leap that I almost wonder if the man is delusional.

He obviously was looking for any excuse to get out of marrying Roxy, but I wish with all my heart that I hadn’t allowed myself to become his escape route.

The devastating turn of events actually worked out for the best for Roxy. She met the man of her dreams, which is obviously not Gary, and is now madly in love with the hunk from Hawaii. This positive outcome doesn’t negate the fact that my betrayal was wrong. I would love to go back to that night and make it right. That’s obviously not a possibility, so I’m focusing on doing everything in my power to make it up to Roxy and gracefully accepting whatever punishments her sister, Ruthie, and grandmother, Baggy, deem appropriate.

Roxy has, for the most part, forgiven me for the transgression. We’ll probably never be as close as we once were, but she is taking the high road and working to move past the giant rift I created between us.

Ruthie and Baggy, however, are showing no signs of ever forgiving, forgetting, or moving on. Their persistent fury with me hurts a great deal because the two of them had always been like my adopted family.

Roxy and I were so close growing up, that I spent almost more time at the Rose household than I did my own. I had always considered Ruthie to be my pesky kid sister, since I didn’t have any siblings of my own. Although we teased and picked on her, I loved her as fiercely and unconditionally as if she were my sister by blood.

Baggy was in a category of her own. As a toddler, Roxy’s childish version of ‘bad grandma’ had come out of her tiny mouth sounding like Baggy. The moniker was so appropriate that it had stuck. Everyone called her Baggy, not just family. In fact, I have no idea what her given name is. She’s simply Baggy, and it suits her to a tee.

My maternal grandmother passed away at an early age. Since my father bailed on my mother before I was born, I don’t know my paternal grandparents at all. Baggy stepped in from the time I was about five to brilliantly and unconventionally fill that vital role in my life. Although she is often wildly inappropriate and outrageous, I love her with all my heart. It devastates me that she is so angry with me, even though I deserve it.

As I slice a banana for my oatmeal, I sigh and smile as I think about all the crazy things Baggy has done over the years. Her daughter, Caroline, Roxy and Ruthie’s stuffy mother, is constantly yelling at Baggy to behave, as if the younger woman is the parent.

Once my teapot whistles, I pour the hot water into my oatmeal bowl and into my pre-warmed tea mug. Dunking the orange pekoe teabag in the hot water, I realize that tea is such a priority in my life because of Baggy. Whenever any of us girls were upset about something, she was always there with a warm mug of tea and a soft, reassuring hug.

I can feel the tears glistening in my eyes as I realize how much I miss having her sometimes bonkers, always soothing presence in my life. One stupid kiss had lost me a best friend, a sister, and a grandmother. Not to mention the fact that I am now a social pariah in our small town.

The Rose family is beloved by all, and I have managed to alienate them. Until it was gone, I didn’t realize how much of my social standing came from being accepted as an unofficial member of their family.

Biting my lip as I rinse the blueberries for my hot cereal, I try for the thousandth time to think of a way to make it up to them. Roxy claims to have forgiven me, but I know she will never forget what I did. Our relationship will likely never get back to what it was before that life-ruining kiss. Besides, she lives in Hawaii now, so it’s not like we can hang out on a daily basis.

Ruthie and Baggy view my betrayal of Roxy as a personal affront. They are showing no signs of ever getting over it, and I can’t say that I blame them. I wouldn’t be able to forgive someone for hurting my sweet, caring, and wonderful friend, either. In fact, I haven’t forgiven myself, so why should I expect them to do so?

I eat my breakfast without really tasting it. The morning news program is on, but I can’t focus on it. I’m such a fixer at work, it boggles my mind that I can’t carry that talent over into my personal life and make things right with my three favorite ladies (other than my own mother, of course).

Speaking of my mom, I know she is ashamed of my transgression. She hasn’t ever called me out on it, but I can tell that she is disappointed. Being seen with me in public has made her an outcast in town, too, and for that, I am truly sorry. I don’t know what to do to make it up to her, other than to try to earn the forgiveness of Roxy’s family.

Roxy and Ruthie’s parents are civil whenever we bump into each other, but they are even more standoffish than they used to be. They never have been my biggest fans, but they permitted me to be absorbed into the folds of their family as an honored guest. I’m sure they feel betrayed by my mistake too.

The knock at my front door startles me out of my rumination as I rinse out my empty bowl and mug. After drying off my hands with the red and white kitchen towel that reads, Kiss the Cook, which Ruthie gave me as a housewarming gift when I bought this condo a few years ago, I head to answer it.

Already knowing who is probably on the other side and hoping to curb any more of her pranks for the day, I yell, “I have to finish getting ready for work, Baggy.”

Wondering if she had simply ‘ding-donged and dashed,’ or if she had left me an unpleasant surprise, like a bag of flaming dog poop, I fling the door open.

“Oh!” I yell out in surprise at the slick-looking businessman on the other side of the door. Suddenly, I wish that I could be better about being a little more stringent with security, like peering through the peephole before opening my door to strangers.

“Expecting a batty old woman?” The man’s exaggerated smile reveals an abundance of big, white teeth. It reminds me of a cartoon shark.

I am perplexed by how he knows Baggy and a little affronted by what he has called her. His description is perfectly accurate, but my hackles are raised nonetheless.

Feeling annoyed by his obvious arrogance, I snap, “I don’t have time for uninvited guests. Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want.”

My strong, negative reaction to this man surprises me, but I’m in too far to back down now. With a brisk nod, I soften my previous sentiment by adding, “Good day.”

When I try to slam the door shut, he sticks his shiny leather, expensive-looking shoe in the opening to keep the door from fully closing.

I gape at him, stunned by his audacity. As he reaches into his pocket, my first thought is that he might be reaching for a weapon, so I am immediately relieved when he pulls out a business card.

He shoves the card through the opening his foot is demanding. I decide to accept it in the hope that he will then leave.

Glancing down at the thick card stock, I am surprised to see only one line of embossed lettering… ‘T.J. Stone, Producer.’

2

The name sounds familiar. I know that I have heard it somewhere before, but I can’t quite put my finger on exactly who T.J. Stone is.

As I stare at the card and try to discern how I know this uninvited guest, I evidently ease up my pressure on the door. The smooth producer uses my distraction to slide his way through my front door. When I look up, he is standing in my entryway.

“Figure it out yet?” His eyes are practically dancing, alight with the knowledge that he has the upper hand.

I start to shake my head, but something about his gleeful expression jogs my memory. I’ve seen that look before. It is the same expression he wore when he ruined several people’s lives by sharing their most-guarded secrets on live streaming television.

“You’re the crocodile from Cruising for Love.” I say the words flatly, already feeling confident that I have pinpointed exactly who he is.

T.J. tips his head back and laughs at that. It’s obvious that his unflattering nickname doesn’t bother him in the slightest. Once his laughter subsides, he says, “That’s Ruthie’s pet name for me. I’m surprised she shared that with you. I was under the impression that the two of you don’t get along.”

Ruthie hadn’t shared that detail or anything else with me in a very long time. I had overheard her talking about him at a restaurant, but I am not willing to admit that to the man who tried to ruin her life on reality television. He would view our tiff as a juicy tidbit to use against her the next time he manages to lure her onto one of his shows.

Refusing to play his game, I lift my chin and say, “We get along just fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready for work.”

Shaking his head, he makes ‘tsk’ sounds as if he is disappointed in me. “I know that Ruthie hates you, and I know why.”

I hate it that this jerk seems to know as much about my life as I do, but I refuse to be a pawn that he can later twist around to use against Ruthie. Inserting determination in my voice, I tell him, “It’s time for you to go.”

His facial expression morphs into one of sympathy. Ignoring my request that he leave, he says, “It must be so tough being hated by your closest friends, over one brief instant of bad judgment.”

I give him a brisk nod and move my hand to usher him back out my open front door.

“I’d like to help you win them back, Lizzie.”

His words sound sincere. My desperation to make amends with Roxy, Ruthie, and Baggy makes me long to believe him, but I know that he is not to be trusted.

Seeming to sense my wavering conviction, the croc goes in for the kill. “The best way to earn back their trust and affection would be for you to join us for Ruthie’s live-streamed wedding. My guess is that there will be numerous things go wrong. Your particular skills will come in handy. If you save her special day, they’ll have no choice except to forgive you.”

Even though I know he is likely setting me up in a trap, it is tempting to accept his offer. I will do about anything to make amends with Ruthie. Voicing my top concern, I say, “They don’t want me to come to the wedding. I’ll end up making things worse between us if I show up uninvited.”

“Perhaps,” T.J. shrugs his shoulders before adding, “But Ruthie tends to be a little scatterbrained and accident-prone. I’d hate for her wedding, that the whole world is watching via the internet, to become a complete fiasco.”

I see right through his innocent façade. Narrowing my eyes, I accuse him, “You’re planning to set her up to fail.”

“Ruthie has a tendency to do plenty of that on her own, without any of my help.”

It isn’t lost on me that he has managed to avoid addressing my allegation. I’m fairly certain that he has some evil plans to sabotage her big day. His goal is to have great ratings for his show. A perfect, gorgeous wedding won’t bring nearly as many views and sponsors as a completely disastrous one.

Confirming my suspicions without actually uttering the words, the producer adds, “If you’re there to fix issues as they arise, Ruthie will have a lovely wedding. If you’re not in attendance, well…” He shrugs his shoulders and lets the implied threat dangle in the air.

I am at a loss for what to do. I know that Ruthie does not want me at her wedding. Her family will not welcome me with open arms. The last thing I want is to make them hate me more by showing up uninvited and unwanted.

On the other hand, I know that the crocodile is planning to wreak havoc on her wedding. If I’m there, I can help avert any crises and keep things running smoothly. Saving the younger Rose sister’s wedding might help make up for ruining the older sister’s big day, right?

I glare at him as I consider my options. It’s obvious by his confidence in my skills that he knows what I do for a living. Being an Executive Assistant to the CEO of a multinational corporation means that I am adept at taking care of any problems that are thrown my way. From the tiny details, like picking the perfect tie for an event, to huge strategic decisions, I am the right-hand woman. Without me taking care of everything, so many balls would get dropped the company might never recover.

The show producers have been advertising the upcoming wedding for weeks. I know that it is scheduled to occur on some exotic, tropical island. Inserting firmness into my voice, I say, “I can’t leave my job.”

Waving off my concerns, he says, “You’ve earned plenty of time off. Take it. They’ll have to figure out a way to survive without you for a bit.” He narrows his gaze at me, like a lion honing in on its prey. “Besides, Ruthie needs you.”

And there it is. My job is important to me, but Ruthie is my chosen family. If there is a way for me to save the most monumental day of her life, then I need to do it. Accepting my fate, I nod and say, “If I rush, I can make the necessary arrangements for me to be off work for the wedding in two weeks.”

Turning to head back outside, T.J. says over his shoulder, “We leave in twenty-four hours.”

3

As I had suspected, my boss, Dave, freaks out over my impending time off, but I don’t leave him any other choice. I have saved his butt more times than I can count, so he owes me.

With true fear in his eyes, he asks, “What am I going to do without you?”

I know his question is sincere. I earned his trust not long after my arrival at the company as a temporary receptionist. He accidentally shared a naughty appointment from his calendar with the entire company. Rather than tell their boss about the faux pas, the employees snickered behind his back. I summoned all of my courage and emailed him about it. He immediately called me to his office. I thought for sure that I was going to be fired, but instead, he asked me to adjust the settings on his account to be private. He promoted me on the spot, and he has trusted me implicitly since that fateful day.

Inserting more confidence than I feel into my voice, I reassure him. “It will be fine. We have three Executive Assistants from the other C-level officers filling in during my absence. They can adeptly handle anything you throw their way.”

“But they aren’t you,” he pouts.

I’m touched that he feels so strongly about my value as an employee, but I am unwilling to back down. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Many people mistakenly think that you’re ‘just a secretary,’ but we both know that you’re the one who gets things done around here. You run this office. Three people aren’t enough to replace you.”

Tears sting my eyes at his high praise, but I refuse to allow them to fall. With a brisk “Goodbye,” I leave, before he can try to bribe me into staying. Ruthie needs me, and I intend to be there for her––even if she doesn’t want me.

“What in the ever-lovin’ hell of tarnation is she doing here?” Baggy asks the outraged question as soon as I join them in the airport’s waiting area. I’m still feeling giddy from getting to use my passport that I’ve had for ages, but hadn’t ever actually needed. Her words put a slight damper on my mood.

Ruthie looks like she has just been slapped as she bugs her eyes out in my direction. “I… I don’t know.”

Trying to look more confident than I feel, I smile and say, “I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

Ruthie is shaking her head as if she can’t quite believe her eyes. “But you aren’t invited. You can’t come.”

She turns to look at her fiancé, parents, and finally Baggy for support. Evidently finding the reassurance she needs in her grandmother’s fired-up gaze, she turns to the older woman and says, “She can’t come.”

“Damn-tootin’ right, she can’t come.” Baggy weighs in. Turning her rheumy eyes towards me, she adds, “We don’t abide by traitors in our midst.”

It is Ruthie’s quiet father who sticks up for me. “Lizzie has been a part of this family for a long time. Isn’t it time we forgive her?”

I try to show him with my gaze and a half-smile how much I appreciate him siding with me.

“Forgive her?!?” Baggy sounds truly affronted by the mere idea of it. “We don’t do that.” She waves her bent pointer finger back and forth to accentuate her words.

Clasping her fiancé’s hand in a possessive manner, Ruthie glares at me. “She’s probably here to try to steal Andrew away from me and ruin our wedding day.”

“That could never happen,” Andrew leans in and reassures her before adding to the larger group, “Maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt. It took a lot of courage for her to come here.”

We grew up in the same town, but I’ve only ever heard Andrew speak on television. I already like his calm, kind, and thoughtful demeanor. He seems to be the exact opposite of impulsive, flighty, and bubbly Ruthie. They must be a classic case of opposites attracting.

Striking while the tide of opinion seems to be shifting in my favor, I say, “I’m here to help. My guess is that there will be some snafus with the wedding planning and ceremony. I’ll be in the background to step in and assist in making sure things run smoothly.” As an afterthought, I add, “No matter what trials that crocodile producer tries to throw at us.”

I can see that my words have startled Ruthie. Turning to Andrew, she asks, “You don’t think T.J. would try to ruin our big day, do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Andrew weighs in.

Baggy has her eyes narrowed in my direction. Lifting her gnarled finger to point at me, she asks, “How do we know she isn’t a plant sent by him to ruin everything?”

Deciding I better address it directly, I reveal, “T.J. is the one who asked me to come.” Someone gulps in air at that news, so I quickly add, “But I am only here to help and be a part of Ruthie’s big day. I want it to go perfectly, and I won’t be a part of anything that risks marring her dream wedding day.”

I hope the sincerity of my words rings through in my tone. My gaze travels to each of them as I silently plead with them to let me join in the festivities to come.

Seeming to shift her opinion a tiny bit, Ruthie asks me, “Are you just here to try to become famous?”

I practically snort at that. “Umm, no. You can have the spotlight. I am planning to stay off-camera as much as possible.”

It seems like they are starting to waver in their steadfast hatred of me until Baggy squints at me and yells, “I ain’t buyin’ this bucket of hogwash! She’s up to something.”

“Mother, stop it.” Ruthie’s mom, Caroline, chastises her own mother.

The older woman glares at me, like a rebellious teenager who is sulking and plotting her revenge for a perceived wrongdoing. I’ve never before been on Baggy’s bad side, and I don’t like how it feels one bit. I will do anything in my power to get back in her good graces.

Caroline continues, ignoring Baggy’s pouting. “Lizzie made a mistake. She has admitted that and apologized for it. It’s time for us ALL,” she gives her mother a pointed look down her glasses before continuing, “to forgive her and move on.”

I’ve never been so grateful for anyone’s mercy in my entire life. If I thought Caroline wouldn’t stiffen up with discomfort, I would give the tall, generally-aloof woman a bear hug. Instead, I quietly whisper the words “Thank you” in her direction.

All eyes are on Ruthie, awaiting her decision. She doesn’t appear to want to forgive me, but her parents and Andrew obviously think she should.

“Fine,” she finally huffs. Turning, she glares eye darts at me before adding, “You can come, but if I see any funny business, you are out of there.”

“I’ll behave,” I promise, nodding and breathing a sigh of relief.

Evidently deciding to make the best of it, Baggy yells out, “Hot damn! Turks and Caicos, here we come!”

No one bothers to correct her that we are heading to Antigua.

4

I wonder how much of what has just transpired will end up on the pre-wedding show. Cameramen are scattered throughout the waiting area recording every moment of our interaction.

Although I can’t imagine ever getting used to having cameras shoved in my face, the others seem to not even notice their presence.

Feeling like the odd man out, I turn to the group at large. “I thought at the end of the last season, it was announced that Ruthie and Andrew’s nuptials would be aired live from Vegas. Why are we heading to the Caribbean?”

“I’m not having a cheesy Vegas wedding,” Ruthie snaps in my direction. After her eyes dart to the cameras, she softens her answer. “I mean, I’ve always dreamed of a picturesque beach-side wedding, and the show’s producers are generously making all of my dreams come true.”

I feel like rolling my eyes as she bats her lashes at the camera across from her. It is obvious that she is trying to make sure they don’t get any clips they can use to make her look like a spoiled diva. Last year’s shows made it clear that they can twist her words around to make her seem like a total brat. While Ruthie can be a bit self-centered, she is also fiercely loyal and caring. I hope they show those sides of her on this new show.

Ignoring her preening for the camera, I ask, “What is the new show called? I assume it’s not Cruising for Love, since we won’t be on a cruise ship.” My voice squeaks when I ask, “Right?” The thought of spending a week heaving with seasickness over the side of a luxury liner does not sound in the slightest bit appealing, but I will do it, if it means I get to make up with Roxy’s family.

Andrew answers me. “No cruise ships this time. The show is called Dream Wedding Extravaganza. We were allowed to pick our ideal wedding location.”

The ‘Extravaganza’ wording worries me. It generally has a positive connotation, but knowing how the last show went, I wonder if they might mean it in the spectacular blowout sense of the word.

Before long, they begin calling the boarding of our plane. The entire gang, including the cameramen, gets up to present their first-class tickets and pre-board. I glance down at my boarding pass for coach. My hope is that this is merely a result of my ticket being a last-minute purchase, and not an indicator of intentional slights to come.