Sand In My Shoes by purplewitch156

Chapter 1

The airport doors opened and the heat hit him like a punch to the face. Tom recoiled, a hand flying up to clutch the sunglasses perched on his nose as if he feared a passerby would snatch them.

"Holy fuck," he hissed.

"Mr. Riddle, is that you? Mr. Riddle!"

A young woman in a fancy suit stood by the passenger's door of a car parked alongside the curb. She waved at him.

"Welcome to Paradise, Mr. Riddle!" she said cheerfully.

He scowled.

"It's so good to have you stay with us," the woman chattered bubbly, not noticing the heated glare behind his sunglasses. "Your room at Le Magnifique is ready, if you'd like to hea —"

Tom climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door with a snap, cutting off her voice. He directed his scowl upward at the brilliant blue sky. Was it always going to be this sunny?

The woman hastily loaded Tom's luggage into the boot before taking the driver's side.

"Off we go then," she said brightly, starting the ignition.

Though she exuded waves of dottiness, she wasn't a total moron. She knew how to read a mood and stayed silent as she drove them out of the airport.

Paradise. Tom snorted. Pretentious bullshit with its bullshit palm trees. He groped inside his jacket pocket for his cigarettes and rapidly clicked his lighter.

"Mr. Riddle, this is a non ..." The woman trailed off as Tom, with cigarette between his lips, gave her a withering stare. She promptly rolled down the windows and with a satisfying click the drag was lit and the nicotine stifled some of the anger that had raged all flight.

The drive was short. Tom's cigarette was only half spent by the time the woman pulled up before a large hotel of rose-tinted stone and powder blue awnings. It looked like a frosted cake. At once, a lobby boy emerged from the hotel's golden, revolving door with a polished trolley and commenced loading Tom's luggage.

A highly attractive woman welcomed him as he entered the building.

"Mr. Riddle, this is an honor. I am the manager of Le Magnifique, Fleur Delacour."

Tom was momentarily taken aback, not by the woman, though she clearly had the ability to captivate a room — half a dozen male guests (and a few women) had stopped what they were doing to watch Ms. Delacour as if in a trance. No, the reason Tom took a half second to answer was the interior of the front lounge — ivory carpet, rich mahogany armchairs, shimmering chandeliers and softly, glowing lamps — not what he'd expected from the frilly facade. An enormous aquarium filled with colorful fish and swaying oceanic plants took up the center of the room, giving the lounge a sense of privacy and separation from the reception desk.

Tom tucked his sunglasses inside his pocket, grateful that the air conditioning operated at full blast. As his luggage wheeled off to the lifts, Delacour led him across the lounge to the front desk.

"Your suite," Delacour informed him, "has an exceptional view of the ocean and it's just a twenty minute walk to the beach. We organize multiple activities, from horseback riding to snorkeling. We have an in house spa which offers messages, meditation, mud baths and even your own wellness coach. However, we do have a non-smoking policy within the hotel. Mr. Riddle?"

Tom jerked back to Delacour. Again, his attention had been stolen, this time by the enormously large mural painted on the wall behind the reception desk. A school of bright yellow fish took center stage. There was something so lifelike about them that for a wild second, Tom actually thought there was another aquarium.