One month later, the day after Pix had propositioned me in a wholly unexpected way, I stood with my back to my closed and locked veranda door and said goodbye to my new home.
My luggage followed me up to the pad next to reception where Pix was waiting, her own bags already in the back of my sleek, black, Bentley Mustique aerocar. I kissed her, slid into the soft, cool interior, and the door sealed behind me with an solid thump.
The aerocar lifted, its ZPE/AG turbines pushing us back into our seats as it rapidly pulled us up and away from the hotel. I held Pix's hand and looked out the window as we banked twice over the grounds, then shot out across the sea. I did not know it then, but Pix and I weren’t going to set eyes on this idyllic place for three months.
Where did we go? Ah, now that’s another story.