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Chapter 4

Faye was startled awake, this time by her ringing cell phone. She looked at the clock on her nightstand in amazement, checked that time against what was shown on her watch. What had been intended as a five-minute nap before ordering room service had turned into the first seven uninterrupted hours of sleep she’d had in a very long time. Before, when she’d worked in Africa, and for the past three years that she’d spent in Haiti, four to five hours of sleep per night was the norm, six or seven a luxury. She yawned, stretched and reached for her phone, smiling as she rapidly typed out a text to Ian:

I called and left a message, but here’s a text as well. The brochures don’t do it justice, Doctor! This place is more beautiful than I could have imagined. I plan to enjoy every minute here, and will call you tomorrow. Again, thanks so much.

Eleven-thirty here, Faye thought. That means it’s two-thirty in Haiti. Faye wanted to talk to her best friend, Adeline Marceaux, a native who served as director of Haitian Heartbeats, the organization through which many doctors, including Faye, had entered the country following a devastating earthquake. “She might be up, but I shouldn’t chance it,” Faye said to herself. I’ll just call her tomorrow.

As she placed the phone on the nightstand, it rang. “I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed, looking at the number. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was a bit distorted. Faye pressed the phone against her ear, trying to hear more clearly. “Addie?”

“Faye! Can you hear me?”

“Yes! It’s a little scratchy, but that’s okay.”

“Hold on a minute.” Faye heard a rustling sound, a closing door and then Adeline’s voice, loud and clear.

“Is this better?”

“I can hear you just fine. Girl, you are going to live a long time,” Faye said, a phrase she’d heard the islanders use when someone you were just thinking about got in touch. “I just thought about calling you but figured it was too late.”

“You know how it is—our work is never done.”

“Where are you?”

“Home, now. We just returned from the backcountry,” Adeline explained in the lyrical accent that Faye adored. “Delivering food, water and emergency supplies to some families there. The rains are supposed to begin tomorrow in earnest. We wanted to make sure these provisions were delivered before the roads washed out.”

“I miss Haiti already and wish I were there to help.”

“Don’t worry about us. You are exactly where you need to be, which I assume is the resort. Did you arrive safely?”

“I did.” Faye described what she had seen so far.

“Sounds lovely. Reminds me of a hotel I visited in Saint Thomas.”

Faye stood and began meandering around the room as she talked. “What about the new volunteers? Was their plane able to land?”

“Yes, and you’d like them. One is from Sweden, the grandson of one of Dr. Ian’s friends. The other is a young medical student from Nigeria. Brilliant. Lots of ideas that he learned while helping orphans in the Sudan.”

“Sounds like the kind of help I could use at my clinic.”

“Perhaps. But you’re not supposed to be thinking about work right now. You’re supposed to be relaxing and taking advantage of the amenities that I’m sure are at your fingertips.”

“I know. I’ll try. But I’m so excited about how plans for the clinic are coming together, even though there is still so much to do. The contractor we hired for renovations fell through. He has to be replaced ASAP. Then there are the in-person interviews with the candidates honed from the online résumés received, meetings with the public relations firm and prepping for the benefit fundraiser. Through the churches, shelters and other organizations working with the clinic, there are already almost a hundred children to be screened. I can already use another doctor on board and the nursing staff—”

“Faye!” Adeline’s voice was loud and firm.

“I know,” Faye said with a self-conscious chuckle. “I should be relaxing.” She noticed an envelope that had been slid under the door, and picked it up. “But it’s so hard to turn off, you know?”

“You are a compassionate, dedicated doctor. You give and give until there is nothing left. Now is your time, Faye. For the next week, be a little selfish. Pamper yourself. Get a massage, a mani/pedi...find a cute guy who can knock the cobwebs out of those seldom-used girlie parts.”

“Seriously, Adeline! You did not just go there.”

“Ha! I most certainly did. You’ve gone far too long without the love of a man. It’s time for you to get back in the dating game and find someone to make you happy.”

“I’m already happy,” Faye murmured, opening the

elegant-looking linen envelope and pulling out the gold-embossed card.

“Then find someone with whom to share that happiness. Go flirt with a man, girl!”

A vision immediately came to mind—the man from the lobby, the man of her dreams. The man who was last seen kissing a beautiful woman, Faye. Don’t forget that.

“Faye, are you listening?”

“Actually, I was reading an invitation from the resort. It must have been placed under my door while I napped.”

“What does it say?”

“It says...


Drake Wines Resort and Spa invites you to join in the celebration of its founder, David “Papa Dee” Drake, Sr., as he marks his 100th birthday!

When: Friday, August 8, @ 5:00 p.m.

Where: Gardens of the South Lawn

There will be food, fun and, of course, Southern California’s finest wines!

RSVP recommended, but not required.”


“There you go, girl,” Adeline squealed, the smile in her voice reaching through the phone. “An invitation to a party. Perfect! Go and buy yourself something sexy, put on some heels and flirt with every man in the room. Have some fun, Doctor. That’s an order!”

After ending the call, Faye ordered from the twenty-four-hour room service menu. Thirty minutes later she enjoyed an all-American hamburger and fries, washing it down with a classic cola. She turned on the television and tried to focus on an over-the-top show about hip-hop artists in Atlanta, Georgia, and the women who loved them. Her eyes were on the screen, but her thoughts were on cobwebs, girlie parts, one certain businessman...and a dream.

Platinum Promises

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