Natalie hangs up, leaving me laughing at her sarcastic, vulgar sense of humor. Nothing she says shocks me anymore.

"What's the ringtone when I call you?" James asks.

A huge smile lights up my face. "Call my cell and find out for yourself, Big Daddy."

James retrieves his phone and dials up my number, then meets my gaze when "Doin' It" by LL Cool J blares from my phone.

"That's what plays when I call you?"

I nod proudly.

"Every time?"

I nod again.

"I fuckin' love you," he says, and plants a kiss on my lips, then takes my hand and guides us to dinner.

Five

"Thank you for this, for tonight."

James has his arm around me and I drag my nails back and forth over his forearm. We're sitting on our deck under the night sky sipping Remy Martin. James ordered a special bottle for us, and just like in Aureole, he says we have to finish it. We're about halfway through, but neither one of us is drunk. It's a soothing, warm body, relaxing high when sipped slow.

After a romantic dinner with the full moon slipping behind the darkening ocean, we walked a short distance with my high heels hooked on two of my fingers and James holding my other hand. I could walk the streets of Manhattan in five-inch heels, but on the soft sand I basically had two left feet.

We watched the Polynesian dance show. I was entranced the entire time, and I think James was too. They thumped the tops and the sides of the barrel drums with their thumbs and heels of their hands, then they blew into conch shells to produce a sound I'd never heard before. James said if you hold a conch shell to your ear, you can hear the ocean. Mini tiki torches were posted every two feet or so in the sand. The flames were small, but enough to come together to create a sultry mood and color the women's exposed skin in a coppery radiance. The best part was the large, colorful feathered head pieces they wore that I imagine are heavier than they look. Matching straw skirts that sat extra low on their hips and a basic triangle bathing suit top finished the ensemble. Every time the skirts swayed, a rustle blew in the air. I've seen some pretty eclectic dancers on the subways in New York City, but the precision and speed these girls popped their hips and rolled their bellies was fascinating to watch. I swear they hit every beat and didn't stop until it was over. They encouraged the locals and tourists to go on stage to dance with them toward the end and managed to carouse James up. I wish I'd brought my cell phone to dinner to video record him to show Natalie. The way he was smiling from ear to ear, how his eyes glittered with delight as he danced in the sand barefoot with the girls made me so fucking happy inside. James Riviera makes me high on life and it made me realize just how much my love for him grows by the minute.