Prologue

So this was how it was going to go, Blake Shite slammed her laptop closed and sat back in her very comfy office chair. She'd been locked up in her home for a week, trying to put words to her new book. But nothing. Not a single word made it onto the screen, her fingers hovered, typed, deleted. Over and over. She rubbed a hand over her tired eyes and stood, stretching her back. She would go down to the kitchen, make herself a cup of coffee, toast and try again. Her phone rang on her desk and she glared down at it. Her agent, Donna, again. She growled at the phone, ignored it, and went down to her kitchen. Blake didn't have time to deal with Donna now, as her friend, Donna understood that she was stuck, but as her agent, Donna was pushing her to write, anything, just write. Blake rolled her eyes, because it was that easy, right? She had to admit that in the beginning, her first five books, top sellers, had been sort of easy, sure she'd had moments of panic when she'd gotten stuck on a chapter or two, but in the end, she'd always found the way. She grabbed her toast and sat at her kitchen counter, a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Now, she couldn't even get an outline done. Sighing she spread the toast with a thick layer of butter. Then bit into it, moaning. Good, so good. 

Donna thought she needed a break, a vacation on an island. Blake didn't take vacations. She needed to work, just push past the block and write. She didn't need the money, she was rich, filthy rich, really. Her gran's inheritance was enough to have her retire on a private island, and her five books had done extremely well. Blake loved writing, getting words on a page, taking her readers on a journey through exotic lands and monster-filled forests. That was what she loved to do. This block was an irritation she didn't need now. And Donna's idea of a vacation was bad, it would just take her away from her work and doing what she loved. Blake cocked her head as she heard her phone ring again. Taking her coffee with her she made her way back up to her office, knowing that Donna wouldn't give up until she spoke to her. She was halfway up the stairs when her doorbell rang. Looking up the stairs at the solitude of her office and then at the door where someone was waiting for her, she realized that she'd rather take the solitude. She was turning into a recluse. With a shake of her head, she turned and went to open the door. 

"Did you think you could hide from me?" Donna breezed in past Blake who held her cup away from her body not to spill the hot liquid on her. "Not answering your phone doesn't mean that I won't come over here and talk to you." She turned, waving her phone at Blake. "Where is your phone? Have you been writing? Tell me that's why you haven't been answering my calls. That's the only acceptable answer." Donna turned again and walked to Blake's kitchen, she pulled a mug out of the cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. "You know, if you ignore me, I'm just going to sit here until you say something." Donna sat at her kitchen counter, looking at her expectantly. Her flame-red hair was as always hanging in a perfect wave to her shoulders, her blue eyes alive with humor, glared at Blake. Donna was a gorgeous thirty-four-year-old, who played the field and wanted the rest of the population to do the same. As a lesbian, she saw it as, not only her right but her obligation to teach baby butches how the world worked. Often leaving those baby butches heartbroken, but a little wiser. She was dressed in her usual, black power suit today, pants, white shirt, black jacket, and heels so high Blake wondered how she didn't break her ankles. 

"What question would you like answered, Don? Because you only get one today." Blake said and made her way to the coffee pot, refilling her cup. 

"Well, then what about, are you too busy writing to answer your phone?" 

"Yes," Blake said and smiled sweetly at Donna. "So busy." 

"Blake, don't play with me, you tell me the truth now." Donna sat forward her eyes narrowed. 

"No, I tried, I sat there, and nothing, not a single idea." Blake sat across from Donna, folded her arms on the counter, and set her head down on her arms. "I think I lost my ability to think of good plots and new adventures." 

"Oh bull, you just need a vacation." 

"Not that again," Blake mumbled. 

"Yes, that again. I found the perfect place." Donna said. "And I will be going too, so we can make it a proper holiday." Donna tapped Blake on the head, trying to get her to look up. She would never admit it to Blake, but she was really worried about the other woman, her strong face was drawn and her usually vibrant, short, black hair was flat and yes, dirty. "When last did you shower?" 

"What?" Blake sat up, appalled, then realized she couldn't remember, yesterday? The day before that? "I don't know." 

"Okay, that's the first order of business then. Go up, shower, and change, and wash your hair, spike it up a bit and come back down. We have some things to discuss." 

"Donna, I really don't feel like going anywhere or arguing about this stupid vacation. I'm not going anywhere." 

"Go shower, we'll talk when you get back." Donna shooed her and grinned when with a groan Blake got up and went upstairs.  Her phone beeped and she looked down, smiled at the one word she saw flashing there. 'Yes.' Everything was falling into place, all she had to do was convince Blake that it was a good idea too. 

The previous day...

Donna sat at the bar, Mystique was a lesbian bar that she frequented when she was on the hunt for her next baby butch. She was intrigued by the woman on stage, she was crooning a love song, and Donna could swear that it was sung for her. But looking around the room she saw that every other woman felt the same way. All of them mesmerized by the woman with the guitar on stage. It was open mike night, but every time the woman was done, she'd get a loud cheer for more, and the other artists, just as into the show, were all okay with it. Which was a strange thing in itself. Usually, they couldn't wait to get up on stage, and sometimes there were even fights about slots. But tonight they all seemed almost happy to let the woman sing song after song. Donna watched her, the way she looked at everyone in the crowd but made eye contact with no one, she convinced every woman there that she was singing for them, but she was really singing for none of them. She found herself watching the woman now, and not so much listening to the songs. There was sadness behind the mask, she was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and white sneakers. Her blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. Even in the dim light, she could see the striking beauty of her face and the lean body beneath the clothes. Donna would bet her life that there was a six-pack under that shirt. Donna called the bar lady over and asked her to send the woman whatever she was drinking.

Addie stepped off stage, the crowd finally letting her take a break. She took the drink the waitress handed her and frowned. "I didn't order this." She said and the woman pointed to a lady sitting at the bar. She looked over and had to admit the woman was hot, she'd seen the woman watching her, and had felt like she was being inspected. The drink meant that the woman liked what she found. So with thanks to the waitress, she made her way to where the woman sat, her eyes still locked on Addie. "Thank you for the drink." 

"My pleasure." Donna said, "Have that drink here with me?" She noticed that the woman had striking green eyes.

"Sure." Addie sat on the barstool next to Donna. "Addie." She held out her hand, introducing herself. 

"Donna." Donna smiled at Addie and was disappointed when their hands met and there was no spark. Addie noticed too and grinned. 

"A shame, you look like you know what you want and usually get it, in bed too." 

"Oh, I do." Donna laughed. "Why are you in this small-time bar, singing your amazing songs here and not on a big ass stage, making millions?" 

"I don't need the money," Addie said, Donna knew that was all she'd get on the subject. Donna stared at the woman sitting next to her. "You have a way of looking at a person that makes them feel like they're being dissected," Addie said she was smiling but Donna knew it was hiding how uncomfortable Addie felt. 

"Blake tells me that all the time." 

"Girlfriend?" Addie asked. 

"Oh, gods no, she's one of my friends," Donna said with a wave of her hand. 

"Adds, could you maybe take over for a few minutes?" The bar lady asked, and danced from foot to foot, obviously needing the toilet. 

"Sure, excuse me a few minutes," Addie said, she hopped onto the bar counter and slid in behind it, looking at home there.

"You're a bartender here? I've never seen you before." Donna said. 

"I don't usually work nights," Addie said.  She got busy serving customers, all the while aware that Donna was still staring at her. She wondered what the woman's story was and why she was being watched so closely. Shaking off the discomfort of being under the microscope she went to work. A few minutes later, Ange, the bar lady was back, and Addie jumped back over the bar and took her seat again. 

"I've never seen you on the stage either," Donna said taking a sip of her martini. 

"Also, I don't usually do that at night." Her evasive answers must have irked the woman, but Donna just kept looking at her. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Donna asked. 

"No." 

"Wife?" 

"No." 

"You are gay though?" 

Addie laughed then. "Yes, I am. Why all the questions, we've already established we don't have any chemistry?" 

"Look, I'm going to seem very forward, and I don't want you to answer now." She took out a card and handed it to Addie. "I need a girlfriend for my friend Blake, I want to take her to a couple's retreat island, but she's a recluse, she hides in her house and never meets any new people. She needs a vacation, and since I'm worried about her, I don't want her going anywhere alone." 

"She's suicidal?" 

"No, nothing like that. The thing is if we send her on vacation alone, she's just going to hall up in her hotel room for the whole time. So I found this island, where you go as a couple and just recapture the spark. Or something like that. The thing is, she won't go if she knows, so I want you to go with us, be her date for the time we're there and look at it as a paid vacation for yourself." 

"How long is this vacation?" Addie frowned, this was the strangest request she'd ever gotten. And Donna, obviously thought she needed the money since she was a lowly bartender. 

"Well, a month, but come on, who says no to a month on an island?" 

"Lots of people, this Blake woman would." 

"She doesn't count, she's forgotten how to have fun." Donna leaned forward and laid her hand on Addie's arm. Not surprised at all by the muscle under her palm. "I'll pay you, and all you have to do is pretend you're into her for a month, at least in public. I'll tell her I made a mistake and since you also came alone, you two can bunk up and pretend to be a couple in public." 

"And she'd fall for that?" Addie asked. She had to admit she was a bit intrigued herself. 

"Yes." Donna stood. "Look think about it, let me know tomorrow, at the latest eleven." She hooked her bag over her shoulder, feeling like she had the right woman for the job. She hadn't really planned on doing this, but she knew an opportunity when she saw one. "Just a simple yes or no, that's all." 

"Okay, fine, but don't get your hopes up." She turned the card in her hands. "Why me? Why not one of the countless other women here? Or even one of your other friends?" 

"Honestly? You look like you need a holiday, and you're just her type. You never know, you might be just what she needs, and maybe she's just what you need." Donna looked at Addie for another instant, then nodded and left. Leaving the decision up to the other woman.

Present...

Now, looking at the text, she felt relieved. All she had to do now was convince Blake that it was the best idea she'd ever had. 

"Look, you coming here won't help me get words on paper any faster," Blake said as she came back downstairs, her hair wet and messy. She was in sweatpants that hung low on her hips and a tank top, her feet bare. 

"I'm not here about your next book," Donna said. "I'm here to tell you we leave on vacation in three days, and you need to pack for the island life for a month." 

"What?" Blake stared at Donna. "No." 

"You don't have a choice, I read the rules of the island retreat wrong, it's a couples thing, and my friend Addie, she's going too, she doesn't have a date, so I told her I'd get you to go with and you can pretend to be lovers when out in public, that way, we can all enjoy the island, and there's no pressure on her to find a date for a month, women get clingy when the time they spend together gets too long. This way both of you can relax and just enjoy the island since you both know it's just pretending." 

"You already told this woman, Addie, I would go?" 

"Yes, I mean she was looking forward to it so much." 

"Damn it, Donna." Blake ran her hands through her hair. "I don't have time for this, I have a book to write." 

"Maybe this is just what you need, maybe you find inspiration there," Donna said, she gave Blake her best puppy dog eyes. 

"Fine, okay, but if I don't like spending time there, or cooped up with this stranger, I'm coming home." 

"Thank you, thank you!" Donna bounced on her stool. "I'll pick you up at six on Tuesday morning." 

Resigned to her fate, Blake just nodded. What was the worst that could happen? She'd get the vacation time Donna always pushed for and maybe she would find her words again. 

"Great, we'll see you Tuesday," Donna said and stood. "You'll see Blake, this is going to be just what you need!"