Tuesday Tales and No One is an Island

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.

A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- island.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love.

Enjoy!~

Lola’s first annual Texi-Tropical Mixer appeared successful. No matter how many times the luau theme showcased a party or event, the timeless fun and classic setting promised fun times. We rented a small portion of a lake swim beach for a sandy spot. Volleyball games played out in one corner, limbo took an area, and other assorted games and get-to-know-you exercises kept folks chatting and laughing. Some wore island inspired clothing, tiki masks, hula attire, you name it.

We knew an informal gathering could infringe upon Lola’s strict rule of assignments to specific leagues, however, we also wanted the great publicity such an affair would create. “Sometimes you have to break a few of your own rules.” Lola shrugged the possibility of failure away. I took a personal turn on breaking a few rules to step away from my rigid shell of comfort. Lesley inspired me, I couldn’t think of any better reason.

We planned to spend a few hours in the sun, then, switch to a dance by evening. A long day for sure, but, we already had several new recruits interested in upcoming dating leagues. I took advantage of a small meeting cabin on the property to set up my laptop. I could keep track of prospects, while still available to supervise with Lola. She also hired some muscle by the hour to dissuade any potential roughhousing nonsense. Lesley went about serving drinks and checking on guests. I finally spied Lola taking a pause from the action.

Lola didn’t have a date, customary for business gatherings. Remaining under a shade tree on a lounge chair, she watched everyone, probably mentally taking notes. She had a knack for recalling minute details, making people feel welcomed and important. I admired her for how well she read a customer. Yet, all those skills didn’t make her any more suited for a one on one relationship than the next human fumbling around wearing the blinders of romance. Somber, her demeanor fell flat, almost sad at times. When she was alone, I approached, determined to bring a smile.

“Hey, boss lady, what do you think of your party?”

“Boss lady? Where did that come from?”

“I do work for you.”

Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of island  Tuesday Tales Main Page