Honey Smiles // Harry Styles Series #3 - Jamaica

Port Antonio 11

A watery light was seeping through the shutter slats when I woke. Harry, having turned onto his back in the night, snored softly. The wind had calmed considerably, but the rain still poured. It would rain all day, I knew, with the wind picking up now and then, but the worst had passed.

I tentatively opened a window, then the shutters. There were palm fronds and branches down all around the hotel grounds, and a number of things caught in trees. An umbrella, chair cushions, laundry. I could see a broken louver here and there on shutters around us, and one pulled completely off.

All in all it looked as though the main hotel had come through with little damage. We would probably have to stay another night, though, since we were still without electricity and it still wasn't fit to be outside, much less up in the villa.

I felt arms slide around my waist and a chin rest on my shoulder.

"I've never seen so much rain, and I'm English. Let's spend all day in bed. Do you suppose there's room service?"

"Harry, you know they'll do anything for you. You're spoiled."

"I am. Spoiled, but not spoiled rotten, I hope."

"No, there's nothing rotten about you."

His phone rang.

"Good morning Tom... no, no work today, we could all use a little holiday... I think we'll stay in here today... yes, all day... can you see if they'll send up whatever breakfast they can do?... perfect... yes, I have a nearly full charge... no, I won't waste it online... ok, thanks Tom"

"Let me guess, food will be forthcoming?"

"It will. But no internet. Don't want to run down my battery. How's yours?"

My phone wasn't on the bedside table; in fact, it wasn't anywhere.

"I must have left it at the villa. I hope the place hasn't blown away. Oh, Mom's going to be worried about me. May I call her on your phone? I'll be quick."

She already knew that I had met someone on the island, and that my someone was 'someone,' and that it wasn't a serious thing. She was happy for me, thought it was just what I needed, and wasn't at all surprised that her lovely and dynamic daughter had attracted the attention of a celebrity.

I called and put her mind at ease, promising her that I would go to my little house as soon as possible to see how it had fared through the storm and call the Schusters with a report. When she began to give me all the latest gossip I cut her off, citing battery conservation, and said goodbye.

The next twenty four hours were split between food, conversation, sex, and sleep. When the electricity came on around seven o'clock the next morning we gathered up our things and made the short trek up to Harry's villa.

It had weathered the storm admirably. There was debris in the pool, some tiles had blown off the roof, and a small palm had come down across the drive. All easy fixes that wouldn't affect Harry's stay.

We were showered and dressed, about to go for a walk to check out the rest of the resort, when Harry stopped at the bedroom door.

"Did you find your phone?"

I had forgotten all about it.

It vibrated in my hand as I picked it up.

"Jesus, I have nine missed calls and about two dozen texts... and they're all from Phillip, his brother and sister, even his mother."

I only had to read the first one.

"Oh no... no... his father died yesterday." I sat on the bed, incredulous.

"Was she ill?"

"No. He... he had a stroke. A massive stroke. Phillip's beside himself. They want me to come to Palm Beach. They say he's inconsolable and keeps asking for me."

I looked at him, standing there, sincere concern on that beautiful face.

"I don't know what to do, Harry."

"What does your heart say?"

"That he needs me. That I love his parents and his brother and sister are my friends."

"Do you love him?"

"No, I don't, but I suppose I still care about him somehow."

"Would he do the same for you?"

"I think he might."

"What does your heart say?"

"I'm going to go. I'll be back, in a few days. Can I look forward to coming back to you? I'd like to."

"I'll be here, looking forward to you coming back to me."

I went to my house to see the aftermath of Pauline and pack a bag for Palm Beach. Like Harry's villa, it had come through with little damage. Water had lapped into the salon under the door, leaving a small wavering line of dirt, leaves, and dried sea foam a few feet inside the doorway. A single pane of glass had broken in the bathroom window, again leaving some telltale debris. The Schuster's cleaning crew would take care of it all while I was away.

Harry couldn't take me to the airport, but he arranged for a car and driver. I stored DQ at Geejam. Harry came down to say goodbye at the waiting car.

"I'll miss you, Caroline. Please come back soon. You're good for me."

I smiled at his innocently self-centered goodbye, and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"I'll miss you, Harry, and I'll be back as soon as I can. I'm glad I'm good for you. I think you might be good for me, too."

I got in the car and rolled down the window, leaning out as we pulled away.

"Take care of DQ while I'm away – take her for a spin!"

The ride to the airport was tedious, but comfortable, and the flight was the same. Another chauffeured car awaited in Miami, which took me straight to the Cookes' home in Palm Beach. Phillip was waiting under the yellow stucco porte-cochère.

"They're gone, Caroline, and I don't know what to do." He enveloped me in his arms and began to sob. "Lucie's gone, and now Dad... I need you!"