When Tammy Gibbins and Jen Shaffer board a plane for Cuba, neither one of them could have ever imagined what would be waiting there for them.
Caught up in the island fever of love, they meet Chance and Gavin, who are at the resort to do a job—a job that neither Tammy nor Jen are aware of. Not being privy to that information causes a misunderstanding when plans are forced to change, just one of the many hurdles they are faced with while on their trip—a trip that is meant to be nothing but fun, a no holds barred trip. Two friends on a beautiful resort for two weeks, the perfect vacation, or so they think.
Tammy and Jen are having the time of their lives, basking in the glorious sun, enjoying the slushy drinks, soaking up all the resort has to offer and most of all, loving the welcomed company of Chance and Gavin.
It’s the perfect trip, the perfect escape from the bitter January cold at home—that is, until Tammy finds herself mixed up in an ongoing feud between two men that puts her life in jeopardy. No one could have seen it coming, not even Chance.
What started as two weeks to remember quickly turns into two weeks Tammy wants to forget, or at least that’s what she tries to convince herself of.
The cars whizzed by me at speeds well beyond the speed limit as I sat parked on the shoulder of the highway, literally bouncing in my seat with excitement. Exhaling an overly large breath, I shook out my hands, trying to focus.
My Bluetooth connected, sending echoing rings out from the speakers. Impatiently, my knee bounced up and down relentlessly and my hands tapped repeatedly at the sides of the steering wheel. “Come on. Come on, answer.”
What had started as a day from hell had turned out to be an amazing day, after all. Shit like this never happens to me. I was the most unlucky person ever. If something was going wrong, it was happening to me.
I was certain I was going to burst if Jen didn’t answer her damn phone.
“Hello”
I burst into a high-pitched squeal and my bum bounced up and down off my seat.
“Who the hell is this?” No doubt, she’d thought it was a prank caller.
“Jen,” I squealed.
“Tammy, is that you?”
Words spilled out of my mouth, tripping over my tongue. “Jen. I won. Holy shit! This is amazing. You won’t believe it. Ahhhhhhhhh.” My feet tapped on the floor of my car and my head tossed from side to side like a mad woman’s.
“Tammy. Cool your jets. What the hell are you talking about?”
I breathed out a long breath and shook out my hands again. Focusing, I slowed my response, “You know that contest on the radio, every Friday? The one where they are giving away a...”
Jen’s high-pitched squeals cut me off. “Are you frickin’ kidding me? Are you telling me you just won the trip for two to Cuba?”
“Yup.”
“That is awesome, Tam. I’m so jealous. Tell me, how does that horseshoe feel?” She laughed.
“Ha. So, Jen, what are you doing for the next two weeks?”
“Get out of here,” she yelled. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
There was a distinct pause of silence as she awaited my confirmation. “Pack your bags, Jenny Shaffer, we are going to Cuba.” The squeals resumed once more and you would have thought by the way we were behaving that we were a couple of teenage girls and not the thirty-two-year-old women that we were. “Meet me at my place in about an hour. We have a trip to book.” My excitement had toned down slightly now that I had finally shared my news.
“Okay. See ya soon,” flew out of her mouth in a rush of joy.
I waited for an opening in traffic before jetting back onto the highway, homeward bound.
I laughed at myself as I glanced down, spotting the coffee stain that was splatted across the front of my burgundy skirt. It likely wasn’t nearly as noticeable to others as it was to me. I knew it was there, though. Dumping my coffee down the front of me this morning was the start of what had been, up until about thirty minutes ago, a hellish day. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had hit a paralyzing wall of traffic heading into Toronto that morning. Grinded to a halt, only after forty-five minutes of inching forward in the bumper-to-bumper traffic was I able to see the culprit of my frustration, a stalled motor home smack dab in the center lane. With coffee stains on my skirt and traffic at a gridlock, I was well acquainted with the term road rage. As a result, I showed up to my interview thirty-seven minutes late, to be exact. “I didn’t really want that job anyway,” I scoffed under my breath.
Things were now looking up, though. I had been handed a means of escaping the bitter January cold of the Forest City, and to top it off, Jen was going to join me. The thought of sipping fruity, slushy drinks poolside arched the corners of my mouth into a smile.
