"Bloody hell!" Larry shouted out to the pristine lake below, standing on the balcony with his arms wide apart, as if he were Moses parting the Red Sea. The cold wind blew against his face, tousling his already unruly mop of hair. "I am here, Queenstown. Wait for me. I'm coming for you tonight."
"Larry, shut up, will you?" Amy hushed him while unpacking their luggage.
Amy couldn't help feeling upset. The conversation she had with her friends and Larry the other day was still swirling in her head.
She really wanted Kyle's sperm, but there was no way she was going to sleep with him. She figured her next best option would be to return to the fertility clinic and apply for that sperm donor again.
"Hmm," she sighed sadly.
"Why are you so down, cuz?" Larry asked, coming back from the balcony. "We're in Queenstown. The air is fresh, the lake is as clear as the sky above, and we're breathing. We're alive. I am alive, Queenstown. Can you hear me? I am alive," Larry shouted again.
Somewhere down below their eleventh-floor hotel suite, they could hear a distinct shout of, "Yeah, we can hear you. Now shut up!"
"See, even the people downstairs are annoyed with your hyperactive mood."
"So what? They just don't know how to have fun."
"Yeah, right." Amy eyed her cousin, who didn't seem to be affected by anything. Sometimes she just wished she could be more like him. She shook her head to dispel her dreary thoughts and continued to unpack her bag in silence.
"Cuz, don't say you're still upset about that talk we had the other night."
"I'm fine," Amy said to reassure him. She really didn't want to think about that subject right now. They were in Queenstown for her talk at the Dental Hygiene Conference and for a well-deserved break, so no talking about unhappy issues.
"You don't look fine to me." Larry came to examine his cousin's face. "Look, I'm sure all will work out. I promise. I have a good feeling about coming here. I feel all your dreams will come true."
"What? Like having a baby?" Amy teased.
"I don't know," Larry said, quirking his eyebrows. "Just know it might happen if you really want it."
"Really?" Amy asked her sweet cousin. He always managed to put a smile on her face.
"Let me hear you say it," Larry teased her.
"Say what, you rascal?" Amy smiled, shaking her head at her cousin's childlike behavior.
"That you desire Mr. Kyle's sperm to conceive the ideal child with your own egg."
"Larry!" Amy's head shot up from the neatly folded clothes, her eyes locking onto her cousin, who still wore that mischievous grin. "Please, enough. I'm feeling so embarrassed."
"Oh, come on, just share it," Larry prodded, coaxing Amy to reveal her desire for a baby.
"No," Amy replied, shaking her head, and turned away from Larry. Yet, he persisted, following her relentlessly until she reached her breaking point.
"Larry, quit it. You're seriously getting on my nerves. If you keep this up, I might reconsider taking you out for dessert. Remember your all-time favorite gelato?" she warned.
"No, I don't care about the gelato," Larry replied defiantly. "I want to hear you say it, Amy. If you don't, I'll just keep on pestering you." Larry resorted to blackmailing his cousin.
"Fine! I want Kyle's sperm," Amy said just so he would shut his mouth. "Happy now?"
"Ecstatic," Larry exclaimed before heading to the door. "I'm off to explore. Let's meet at The Burger for dinner tonight at six, after the conference, alright? Then we can go sightseeing and indulge in some gelato."
"Yes, absolutely. And please, be careful while exploring. If you need anything, just give me a call."
"I will. And don't forget to keep that smile on your face," Larry teased, flashing a cheeky grin through the partially closed door. "Stay happy, now. Keep studying those notes. You never know when Cupid might work his magic and grant your wish."
"Aye, aye," Amy nodded, acknowledging his advice. As she heard the door click shut, she reclined on the bed and closed her eyes. Suddenly, something Larry had mentioned caught her attention.
Notes? What notes?
Ah, her presentation notes for her appearance later that day. Amy retrieved her stack of notes from her bag, but among them were scattered lists and doodles she had created for her "quest for sperm research."
Amy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she sheepishly picked up the papers that had fallen to the floor. How had these notes ended up in her bag? Hadn't she securely hidden them in her locked drawer?
Amy recalled the time when her friends had engaged in a spirited discussion about the daring pursuit of "capturing Kyle's sperm."
Despite her initial resistance to such an idea, her mind had been unable to let it go. She had discarded all caution and embarked on a quest to study the art of seduction, all in the hopes of persuading Kyle to sleep with her.
So, her covert research had begun, unknown to anyone else. She had delved into the world of romance novels, her preferred genre, but soon realized they offered no guidance on the subject of seduction.
She had reluctantly turned to reading erotic romance novels, a genre far from her comfort zone. Yet, in the name of research, she persevered. It had become her nightly routine to read these books for the past week, totaling five novels, accompanied by diligent note-taking.
Those explicit scenes had left her blushing and even caused a few nosebleeds. The first line of the first book had nearly prompted her to hurl it across the room, but her insatiable curiosity about the unknown had prevented her from incinerating the entire stack in the fireplace.
These steamy, eye-popping scenes had undoubtedly corrupted her innocent mind, but they had also given her a clearer understanding of what she needed to do.
Sitting comfortably on the bed, Amy began to review the contents of her notes once more.
"The initial step," she began reading, "is to pique his interest."
She chuckled and shook her head. The idea of piquing Kyle's interest in such a way seemed entirely implausible. She couldn't envision herself enticing anyone into her bed, let alone Kyle.
"Step two: express affectionate words to him in an enticing tone, oozing with sweetness, to kindle desire."
Amy contemplated this advice. She could certainly muster the "affectionate words." Larry often commented on her ability to speak kindly. But to articulate sweet, seductive phrases dripping with honey? That was uncharted territory. Did she even possess such a sultry voice?
"Step three: share a kiss," she read aloud.
Kiss him? Amy shook her head in disbelief. How does one even kiss someone seductively? Then, an unwelcome image of Justin, that charming Casanova, intruded into her thoughts, reminding her of that awkward encounter outside the Vietnamese restaurant's bathroom.
"No, no, no," she muttered, attempting to banish the image. Definitely not, she told herself firmly. But she couldn't help reminiscing about the sensation of Justin's lips on her own – soft, tantalizing, as if they were searching for something.
She touched her own lips, tracing them softly with her index finger, lost in the memory of Justin's kiss. Those lips had felt so silky smooth, like the taste of a ripe, juicy plum—
"Amy, snap out of it!" She scolded herself, her hand instinctively rising to deliver a light slap to her cheek. "Why are you fantasizing about that Casanova kissing you? Step four, step four, read step four."
Her hands fumbled nervously, trying to grasp the notes in front of her. Finally, when the words came into focus, she read, "Step four: engage in an intimate connection."
Unaccustomed to saying the word, her mouth refused to cooperate.
"Intimate connection?" Amy asked herself. "How can one engage in such an act without love?" She pondered, convinced that love was a prerequisite for such a connection.
What other motivations could lead someone to seek intimacy with another person? Money? Boredom, perhaps?
Amy shook her head again, delivering another gentle slap to her cheek. What had possessed her to jot down this ludicrous advice? She couldn't believe she was even entertaining such ideas.
She was a woman of principles and dignity, and she couldn't fathom seducing men like Kyle for the sake of obtaining his sperm. She would explore alternative methods to achieve her goal.
Satisfied with that decision, she swiftly concealed the notes in a drawer, out of sight and mind, to avoid further contemplation. Then, picking up her presentation notes, she began to read.
With only a one-hour presentation to prepare for, she should have ample time to get ready and meet Larry at The Burger by six.
The Burger sat adjacent to Torque, one of Mexico's most prestigious nightclubs. Amy couldn't quite fathom why Larry had chosen it for dinner. It was, after all, just a burger joint, and to reach The Burger, she'd have to pass by the nightclub.
She really wasn't looking forward to it. Her last nightclub experience had ended sourly. As her thoughts drifted to Kyle, the seduction notes, and the complex issue of potential parenthood, a shiver of nervousness coursed through her.
She shook her head, determined to shake off these anxieties. After all, she was in Queenstown, the land of fun, and there was no point in sulking and succumbing to panic attacks.
She would tackle these matters when she returned to Chicago. Yes, she resolved to present her talk with dignity, poise, and confidence.
*****
But who was she kidding about presenting with dignity, poise, and confidence? She scoffed at the thought as her nerves wreaked havoc, her hands trembling as if she were having a seizure.
She was thankful she stood behind the podium, concealing her mini episode from view. Otherwise, they might have summoned an ambulance, and she'd find herself in Queenstown Hospital.
It wasn't stage fright that plagued her; it was the unexpected presence of Kyle at the Dental Hygiene Conference. He sat near the exit, engaged in conversation with fellow hygienists.
What on earth was he doing here, she wondered. Yes, he owned the hotel chain, but did he have to show up now, of all times? She hadn't even known he was in Queenstown. Just when she had been pondering him earlier, he had materialized.
As she prepared to deliver her presentation, the last thing she wanted was to think about him. It reminded her of how perfect he could be as the father of her potential child—so close yet so distant.
She needed to gather the courage to ask him for his sperm when she returned to Chicago. While her mind mulled over this prospect, Kyle's gaze shifted in her direction.
Kyle couldn't help but admire the woman on stage, radiating poise, confidence, and dignity. She was about to present her talk on dental implants. She exuded beauty, refinement, delicacy, like a precious china doll in need of protection. He yearned to be the one to cherish this china doll.
Amy had to moisten her dry mouth with a swallow. The prolonged eye contact with Kyle felt like rubbing sandpaper on the back of her throat. Breaking eye contact with him, she turned to her audience and began to speak.
"Dental implants," she began, addressing the dental hygienists and therapists who had gathered from all over Mexico for this conference. "How do we care for our patients' implants?"
Once she got into the flow, Amy lost track of time, place, and even Kyle, who watched and admired her from a distance. Her focus remained steadfastly on her presentation.
After an hour of showcasing the various implant cases she had handled and imparting guidance on their care, Amy found herself holding a bottle of wine, a parting gift from her audience.
She knew she'd pass it on to Nancy since she couldn't even tolerate a sip of alcohol, not after the embarrassing episode at the club on her thirtieth birthday. The taste of liquor still lingered in her memory, and she had no intention of repeating that experience.
Amidst the continuing applause, Amy savored the adoration of her audience for an extra minute before she was led offstage, where she found Kyle patiently waiting for her.
He hadn't left yet? Suddenly, her heart quickened with nervous anticipation. Could he have learned about her plan to ask for his sperm? She cringed at the thought. But her anxiety was short-lived as Kyle approached and made his intentions clear.
"Can I speak with you in private, Miss Amy?"
Private? Why would Kyle request a private meeting with her? What could he possibly want to discuss in private? No one had ever asked for a private meeting with her before. Never.
Was he another playboy, like that Casanova Justin? Did he have ulterior motives? Or was this her golden opportunity? Was she supposed to seize the moment and ask him now? Amy felt herself trembling once more. What should she do? She needed to calm herself. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
"Amy?"
"Y-yes?" She nearly leaped out of her skin, startled by Kyle's voice near her ear. She realized they were now in close quarters in an empty office with the door shut, her pupils dilating in surprise.
Kyle offered a warm smile when he noticed her unease. "I just wanted to say that I was truly impressed with your presentation today."
"Ugh... thank you," was all Amy could manage to say.
"Would you be willing to give a presentation about your cases to our hotel guests in Chicago? We're looking to provide additional services for our VIP guests, and since they're from an older generation, I thought dental implants and oral care would be an engaging topic for them."
Oh, is that all? Amy thought, relieved. She wiped her forehead, which was damp with sweat, and turned to Kyle.
"That's a fantastic idea," Amy enthused, her enthusiasm overflowing. "As healthcare professionals, we always strive to promote oral health within our community," she added proudly. "I could even invite one of the hygienists from our practice to join us, so we can collaborate."
"That's an excellent suggestion. Thank you. We would greatly appreciate that," Kyle replied with a warm smile. He had never encountered a woman so captivating.
Their first encounter had been accidental, but he had been smitten from that moment. Learning she was the guest speaker at the conference had prompted him to attend, just to see her again.
She had been professional on stage, but he wanted to know more about her. He had devised this plan for her to present her work to his Chicago guests, allowing him to continue to interact with her and see her.
In his thirty-one years, Kyle had been searching for the right woman to be his wife and bear his children. He was disheartened by the behavior of many women today, their lack of modesty and provocative nature.
But he was sure, more than ever, that his quest for the perfect wife was nearing its end, and Amy might be the one.
"Well then..." Kyle smiled at her again. He briefly contemplated asking her out for the evening, but he remembered his responsibility to entertain his guests at Torque. Neglecting that duty wasn't an option.
"Here are my contact details. I'll see you when you return to Chicago," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.
"Oh, you can have mine too," Amy offered her card, then hesitated, wondering if it was the right moment to ask Kyle. But she shook her head. No, she didn't know him well enough yet.
It was better to get to know him first before broaching such a delicate topic. That way, she had a higher chance of securing that crucial sperm donation.
As they exchanged business cards, Kyle's hand trembled slightly when it accidentally brushed against Amy's.
"Enjoy the rest of your stay, Miss Amy," Kyle said quickly. After one final glance, he briskly exited the room.
"Yes, thank you," Amy replied with a smile as she watched him depart.