Chapter 3

Hawaii, United States

The honeymoon suite was one of the best in the hotel she had made a reservation at. Emma sighed as she took off the wildflower lei they had given her at the airport. She checked the itinerary, which was mostly designed for couples by default, but she decided to request a new one that would cater to her solo adventure. She wanted to do things on her own and explore each activity individually. The first one on the list was the surface diving adventure in Molokini aboard the Calypso. It promised an up-close encounter with Hawaiian green sea turtles, breakfast, and lunch served while sailing along the coast, and the catamaran even had water slides. However, Emma had no intention of going on the slides or getting close to the turtles, so she dismissed that option.

"There must be something else," she murmured, lowering her gaze to the itinerary list. "Scooter adventure in a submarine in Oahu, knife dancing in the welcome ceremony, hula dancing, weaving a coconut leaf headband, Hawaiian feast," she continued reading. "Waterfall and volcano tours..." Her reading was interrupted by a knock on the door, and she approached to open it.

"Good early morning, Ms. Hall."

"I'm not Hall, I'm Spencer, and no, I'm not married," Emma spoke too much due to exhaustion from the eleven-hour flight. The man in front of her raised his eyebrows.

"I apologize, welcome, Miss Spencer. Tomorrow morning, you will receive the new itinerary you requested."

"Oh, yes. I was reading the previous one," she said thoughtfully. Since it was mostly couple-oriented, she didn't want it. "But I prefer to do individual activities."

"Perfect. Welcome back to our hotel. I would like to inform you that the bar and kitchen are still open if you'd like something to eat."

"Alright, thank you," Emma thought that since she was feeling tired, it wouldn't hurt to have a drink before sleeping and resting. She took a bath to rid herself of the airplane smell and then put on a loose, colorful thin blanket dress with straps tied around her neck. The weather was humid, so she imagined how her hair would behave during her stay. She tied her long, blonde hair into a high bun, grabbed her cell phone, room key card, and wallet. When the elevator doors opened before her, she saw people in the lobby laughing, dancing, and talking. It didn't feel like one in the morning. Normally, in a New York hotel, it would be quiet with not as much commotion as she was witnessing at that moment. "Emma, it's not New York," she mentally reminded herself.

She walked to the bar-restaurant and looked for a seat at the counter. She sat down and accepted the drink menu, debating between a Martini or a Piña Colada before choosing the former. She looked around, trying to understand why Jamie had chosen this place. What did he like about it? Then she thought she needed a little more alcohol in her system to stop thinking about everything her cheating ex-fiancé had done to her. One Martini turned into several as Emma became slightly tipsy, but she felt on cloud nine. She assumed she would return to her hotel room and fall asleep for the two-week stay she had planned before returning to work and resuming her life.

Two hours later, Emma was laughing with the bartender, a man in his thirties with tattoos all over his arms and neck. He had told her the story behind each one of them.

"So, he cheated on you?" she nodded, disappointed and trying to control her annoyance.

"But seriously! He had a great woman by his side!" she hiccuped. "I'm

 sorry," she covered her mouth to prevent another hiccup from escaping.

"No doubt. But why come here when you could go to the beaches of Europe? This island is beautiful, but I prefer the ones in that European continent."

Emma leaned on the bar and stared at her almost empty Martini glass.

"Why don't I feel any pain?" she asked. Claudio, the Mexican bartender, furrowed his brow as he looked at the blonde woman in front of him.

"Do you want to feel pain?" he asked, puzzled. Her eyes turned towards him.

"I didn't cry when he..." she paused for a moment. "When he cheated on me, when he left the apartment. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. It was supposed to hurt, to burn, but it seemed like I had no heart and it was filled with ice."

"How long were you with Jamie?" the bartender asked as he wiped high-necked crystal glasses.

"Five years. He proposed, but something told me no. It was the first time I followed my instincts, and now, just when we were finally going to get married, something inside me was restless, and that's it. Single again."

"You're beautiful. You'll find someone who will make your heart race and share a life with you," he began to say. "When you least expect it, they'll come along..." Emma shook her head.

"The chances of having another romantic interaction have diminished," she paused, remembering. "As a child, I used to flip a coin when I couldn't make up my mind. If it landed on one side and I felt disappointed, then I knew what I wanted..." The bartender nodded curiously.

"And when was the last time you flipped a coin?" he asked.

"I was ten years old when I flipped it, and since then... never again."

"Do you believe in destiny?" the bartender asked, resting his hands on the edge of the table.

"No," Emma pointed to the ninth Martini glass, realizing that her eyelids were starting to feel heavy from fatigue. The bartender placed a tequila shot glass in front of her and smiled. "What's this? That doesn't look like a Martini," the man at the bar smiled.

"It's a tequila shot, and it's the best. It's on the house," he said, showing her how to take it with the lime and salt. So she did...

"Oh my God!" Her throat burned. "It's really good, quite..." Her words trailed off, and then she let out a long sigh. The man went to attend to other customers, and Emma thought of something. She took a coin from her designer wallet and held it between her fingers. "Destiny? Do you exist? If you do, I'll toss this coin in the air. If it lands heads, I'll get up and go to sleep. If it lands tails," she twisted her lips and then smiled, "I'll take the first unknown man who buys me a drink to bed." She clumsily got up with her new Martini in hand, but the chair was thrown backward. She stumbled because her long dress got caught under her feet, and her drink spilled, accompanied by curses. When she turned around, there was a man standing up, who then abruptly picked up the chair to straighten it and said something in German that Emma understood perfectly. "You can't talk to me like that, big guy," Emma said, surprised by the curse he let out, but it was directed at the chair. "My Martini," Emma said, looking at the shattered glass on the floor. The tall, muscular man looked at the blonde in front of him.

"I'm sorry. You threw the chair backward and made me trip, also spilling my drink," Emma bit her lip as she saw her drink on the floor again. "But I was referring to the chair, not to you..."

"I'm sorry," she wavered, and the unknown man reached out and grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling. "I owe you a drink," he furrowed his brow.

"I think the drink is the least of it. Are you okay?" She nodded slowly, feeling a bit dizzy. "I shouldn't have had that tequila." The man turned to the bartender. "Another drink for the lady, I spilled hers. And charge me for the two broken glasses." Emma raised an eyebrow upon hearing that but declined. The man signaled to the bartender to put it on his tab.

"He'll buy my drink," Emma whispered to herself, then remembered she had spilled his as well. "Another drink for him too, I don't know what he's having." He smiled at the woman.

"I'm fine. It's a sign for me to stop," Emma raised her eyebrow again. "A sign," she sighed.

"Here's the drink," the bartender said, smiling widely as he saw the tall man still holding her arm to keep her from falling. They both followed his gaze and realized.

"I'm sorry," the stranger said and slowly let go of her so she could return to the chair he had straightened. Emma held onto the backrest and smiled.

"You're German," he blushed slightly. "Yes, I could tell by the curses you used."

"And you're American," Emma smiled and nodded.

"Well, I have to go. My group of friends is waiting for me," the man said goodbye and started walking among the others. He paused for a moment to look at the blonde woman, she shook her head to decline the drink, paid, and then left. The man approached one of his friends and whispered something in his ear, then nodded. "See you in a while," he said, then turned back to the bar, but the blonde was gone. He looked around and found her, walked over to her. "Hello," she looked at the tall man and smiled, remembering the coin toss and destiny.

"Hello," he noticed the blush on her cheeks.

"May I help you get to your room? I don't want you to think I want something, no, no, but I noticed you're

 a bit unwell. I think that might have sounded like a stalker... but I'm not. I'm a committed man, and I wouldn't want my girlfriend to be in this situation and not receive help," Emma was disappointed.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm in the presidential suite, so I'll just go into that elevator and go up... to sleep, I guess. Do you know what I did?" she asked the man and then answered her own question. "I flipped a coin and said that if it landed heads, I'd go to sleep..."

"And if it landed tails?" the man asked with a smile and much curiosity.

"I would take the first unknown man who bought me a drink to bed."

"And I've been that man..." he whispered, then smiled. It was the first time something like this had happened to him.

"Yes," she said, "Just one night without commitment, without strings, without names, without any information." The German man raised his eyebrows.

"Who wouldn't be tempted by that proposition?" Emma smiled.

"Does it tempt you?" The German man took a deep breath and nodded. His heart had raced at the way she looked at him. It was as if she saw through him.

"Very much." Emma was the first to step toward him, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and without realizing it, she breathed in his scent. He felt a shiver go through him, and when their eyes made contact, he decided to take a risk. She just knew it. She took his hand, entwining their fingers, and smiled mischievously.

"Come, follow me." He nodded, followed her, and they entered the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, he held her by the waist and pressed her against the elevator wall. He let go of the hand they were holding and took her chin to tilt her face toward him. Max lost himself in her blue eyes for a brief moment, feeling his heart beat harder. He brought his mouth closer to hers, and it was divine. Emma's soft lips drove him crazy. When they separated, they looked at each other, and she barely reacted. The indescribable sensation that had run through her veins had shaken her from within.

"If we're going to do this, I want it to be the best of the best..."

"Unforgettable?" Emma said, panting.

"Unforgettable," Max replied, devouring her mouth more eagerly...

Destiny playing its tricks...