|A man|

Hawaii, United States

The bridal suite was one of the best in that hotel where she had made a reservation. She sighed as she removed the wildflower necklace that had been given to her upon arrival at the airport. She reviewed the itinerary, which was mostly for couples, but decided to request a new one that suited her, allowing her to do things alone and explore each activity. The first on the list was the snorkeling adventure at Molokini aboard the Calypso. She read that she would come face to face with Hawaiian green turtles, enjoy breakfast and lunch while sailing along the coast. The catamaran had slides that she clearly wouldn't use, and she wouldn't be seeing the turtles either. So she dismissed it.

"There has to be something else..." she murmured, lowering her gaze to the itinerary list. "Submarine scooter adventure in Oahu, knife dance at the welcome ceremony, hula dancing, weaving a coconut leaf headband, Hawaiian feast," she continued reading. "Waterfall tour, volcanoes..." A knock on the door interrupted her reading. She approached to open the door.

"Good early morning, Mrs. Hall."

"I'm not Hall, I'm Spencer, and no, I'm not a Mrs. I'm here alone, without a husband. Well, I didn't get married." Emma spoke more than she intended due to the exhaustion from the eleven-hour flight. The man in front of her raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry, welcome, Miss Spencer. You'll have the new itinerary you requested by morning."

"Oh, yes, I was reading the previous one..." she said pensively. It was more couple-oriented, so she didn't want it. "But I prefer to do individual activities."

"Perfect, welcome again to our hotel. I inform you that the bar and kitchen are still open if you want something to eat."

"Alright, thanks." Emma thought that since she felt tired, it wouldn't be bad to try a drink before bed and then rest. She took a bath to get rid of the airplane smell, then put on a thin, colorful dress that was loose-fitting, with straps tied around her neck. The climate was humid, so she imagined how her hair would behave during her stay. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a high bun. She took her phone, room card, and wallet. When the elevator doors opened in front of her, there were people in the lobby laughing, dancing, conversing. It didn't seem like one in the morning. Usually, in a New York hotel, there's silence and not as much commotion as what she was seeing at that moment. "Emma, this isn't New York," she told herself mentally.

She walked to the bar-restaurant and looked for the counter. She sat down and accepted the drink menu, debating between a Martini or a piña colada, then chose the first option. She looked around the place, wondering why Jamie had chosen this location. What did he like about it? Then she thought she needed a bit more alcohol in her system to avoid thinking about everything her unfaithful ex-fiancé had done. One Martini turned into several, making Emma a bit tipsy, but she felt on cloud nine. She thought she would reach her hotel room and fall asleep for the two weeks she had planned before returning to work and resuming her life.

Two hours later, Emma was laughing with the bartender, a man in his thirties covered in tattoos on his arms and neck. He had told her the story behind each one.

"So, he cheated on you?" She nodded, feeling disappointed and controlling her annoyance.

"But the worst part is, he had a great woman by his side!" She hiccuped. "Sorry," she covered her mouth to prevent another hiccup from escaping.

"Without a doubt. But why come here when you could go to the beaches of Europe? The island is beautiful, but I prefer those of that European continent."

Emma leaned on the counter and contemplated her almost empty Martini glass.

"Why don't I feel any pain?" she asked. The bartender, named Claudio, of Mexican origin, looked at the blonde woman in front of him with a furrowed brow.

"You want to feel pain?" he asked, puzzled. Her eyes turned toward him.

"I didn't cry when he..." she paused for a moment, "...cheated on me, when he left the apartment, not then either. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. It should have hurt, burned, but it seems like I have no heart and it's filled with ice."

"How long were you with Jamie?" asked the bartender, cleaning the tall crystal glasses.

"Five years. He proposed, but something told me no. But it was the first time I followed my instinct, and now when we were finally going to get married, something in me was restless, and now I'm single again."

"You're beautiful. You'll find someone who makes your heart race and with whom you can share a life," the man began to say. "When you least expect it, they'll come..." Emma shook her head.

"The chances of having a romantic interaction with someone again have decreased," she paused, remembering. "As a child, I used to toss a coin in the air when I couldn't decide. But if it landed on one side and I felt disappointed, then I understood what I wanted..." The bartender nodded, curious.

"And when was the last time you tossed a coin in the air?" he asked.

"I was ten years old when I tossed it, and since then... never again."

"Do you believe in destiny?" said the bartender, resting his hands on the edge of the table.

"No." Emma pointed to the ninth Martini glass, realizing her eyelids were starting to feel heavy from exhaustion. The bartender placed a shot of tequila and smiled at her. "What's that? That doesn't look like a Martini." The man at the bar smiled.

"It's a shot of tequila, and the best one, on me," said the man, showing her how to take it with lime and salt. Then she did...

"Oh my God!" It burned her throat. "It's really good, very good," she slurred, then let out a long sigh. The man went to attend to other customers, and Emma had a thought. She took a coin from her designer purse and held it between her fingers. "Fate? Do you exist? If you do, I'll flip this coin. If it's heads, I'll get up and go to sleep. If it's tails," she twisted her lip and then smiled, "I'll take the first stranger who buys me a drink to bed." She stood up clumsily with her new Martini in hand, but the chair was pushed back, she stumbled over the length of her dress, and her drink spilled. There were some curses, and when she turned around, a man was getting up and then roughly set the chair back. He said something in German that Emma understood perfectly.

"You can't talk to me like that, big guy," said Emma, surprised by the curse, but it was directed at the chair. "My Martini," said Emma, looking at the shattered glass on the floor. The tall, burly man looked at the blonde in front of him.

"I'm sorry, you pushed the chair back and made me trip, spilling my drink too." Emma bit her lip, seeing her drink on the floor again. "But I meant the chair, not you..."

"I'm sorry," she wobbled, and the stranger caught her arm to keep her from falling. "I owe you a drink," he frowned.

"I think the drink is the least of it. Are you okay?" She nodded slowly, feeling a bit dizzy. "I shouldn't have had that tequila," she thought. The man turned to the bartender. "Another drink for the lady, I spilled it. And charge me for the two broken glasses." Emma raised an eyebrow but shook her head. The man signaled the bartender to put it on his tab.

"He's buying my drink," Emma whispered to herself, then remembered she had spilled his too. "Another drink for him as well, whatever he's having." He smiled at her.

"I'm fine, it's a sign for me to stop." Emma raised an eyebrow again. "A sign," she thought, then let out a sigh.

"Here's the drink," said the bartender with a wide smile, seeing the tall man still holding her arm to keep her from falling. They both followed his gaze and realized it.

"Sorry," said the stranger, releasing her slowly so she had time to return to the chair he had set up. Emma held onto the backrest and smiled.

"You're German." He blushed slightly. "Yes, I realized from the curses you said."

"And you're American?" Emma smiled and nodded.

"Well, I have to go, my friends are waiting for me." The man said goodbye and walked among the others. He stopped for a moment to look at the blonde woman. She shook her head, deciding not to drink, paid, and then left. The man approached one of his friends and whispered something in his ear, then nodded. "I'll see you in a bit," he said, then returned to the bar, but the blonde was gone. He looked around and found her, walking closer to her. "Hello," she looked at the tall man and smiled, remembering the coin toss and fate.

"Hello," he noticed the blush on her cheeks.

"May I help you to your room? I don't want you to think I want to do anything, no, no, but I noticed you're not feeling well. I think that sounded like a stalker... but I'm not. I'm just a man, and I wouldn't want my girlfriend to be like this without help." Emma was disappointed.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm in the presidential suite, so I'll just get in that elevator and go up to... sleep, I think. Do you know what I did?" she asked the man and then answered her own question. "I flipped a coin and said if it landed heads, I'd go to sleep..."

"And if it landed tails?" the man asked with a smile and a lot of curiosity.

"That I'd take the first stranger who buys me a drink to bed."

"And I was that man..." he whispered, then smiled. It was the first time something like this had happened to him.

"Yes," she said. "Just one night, no commitments, no strings, no names, no information about anything." The man raised his eyebrows.

"Who wouldn't be tempted by that proposal?" Emma smiled.

"Are you tempted?" The German man took a deep breath and nodded, his heart racing from the way she looked at him, as if she could see right through him.

"Very much." Emma was the first to step towards him, lifting her gaze to him and, without realizing it, inhaling his scent. He felt a shiver, and when their eyes connected, he decided to take a chance. She just knew. She took his hand and intertwined their fingers, smiling mischievously.

"Come, follow me." He nodded, followed her, and they entered the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, he took her by the waist and pressed her against the elevator wall, released the hand they had intertwined, and took her chin to lift it towards him. Max got lost in her eyes for a brief moment, felt his heart beat stronger, brought his mouth to hers, and it was a divine delight for him. Emma's soft lips drove him crazy. When they pulled apart, they looked at each other, she barely reacted. What had coursed under her skin was something indescribable that shook her inside.

"If we're going to do this, I want it to be the best of the best..."

"Unforgettable?" Emma said, panting.

"Unforgettable," Max replied, devouring her mouth with more fervor...

"Fate doing its thing..."