The moment Sasha stepped through the door of her one-bedroom apartment, she kicked off her shoes and turned on the air-conditioning. Instinctively, she ran her hand over her bulging ponytail that had been struggling to be released from its hair clip all day. She passed by the hall mirror and winced. Her face was framed with a thick halo of damp, unrelaxed hair and the ball at the nape of her neck resembled a mini Afro-puff. Fortunately her hair appointment was for nine in the morning and her stylist had promised that she’d hook her up with a style that would withstand the sun, heat and seawater and even some good loving.

      “Humph, this I gotta see,” she mumbled peering a bit closer at her reflection.

      As she headed for her bedroom she began stripping out of her standard white blouse, navy-blue skirt and matching pumps. By the time she hit the threshold she was down to her black lace undies and feeling cooler by the minute. She tossed her discarded clothing on the armchair in the corner of her room. Passing by the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door, Sasha did a double-take. A smile broke the tight lines of her mouth as she gazed in appreciation at what her hard work and discipline had wrought. Her upper arms, which were once on the verge of “doing the bird,” were firm, with just a soft ripple. Her stomach, which normally had to be held in place by the strongest body shaper on the market, was flat and firm, curving out to the swell of her hips—not much she wanted to do about that—down to her still thick but tight thighs and dancer’s legs. She unhooked her bra and beamed when her 38Cs pointed out, not down. Then she turned sideways and—BAM. Yes, yes, yes! She did the happy dance all the way into the shower. She couldn’t wait to show off her new and improved self on the beaches of Antigua.

      Chapter 2

      “I am so excited for you,” April said as the airport came into view. “I know you are going to kick butt.” She made the turn into the departure lane. “I wish I could be there with you, but I’m there in spirit.”

      Sasha and April had met in sixth grade, and for reasons that they could never put their fingers on, they had simply clicked. They complemented each other. Where Sasha was more reserved, April was outgoing and never hesitated to say what was on her mind. Sasha was always “thick,” as the saying goes, and April could eat a grown man under the table and never gain an ounce. April was flamboyant and Sasha was understated, preferring to stay in the background. It was April who had always been able to draw Sasha out of her shell, push her when she otherwise would have stood still. She believed in Sasha’s dreams and ambitions when not even her own family did. Had it not been for April, Sasha would have never gone through with submitting her application to the Heartbreak Hotel competition.

      Sasha glanced at her friend. “I know. My stomach is doing flips. This is the first time I’ve ever been out of the country, not to mention a contestant on a reality television show.”

      April patted Sasha’s balled-up fist. “You’ll be fine. If you didn’t have what they were looking for they would have never picked you. The main thing is to have a good time. Enjoy the experience, girl. Getting away from Savannah will do you a world of good no matter what happens. And I’m only a phone call away.”

      Sasha drew in a deep breath. “Thanks,” she said, suddenly doubting the logic of what she was about to do.

      “And you look fantastic! Just like the star you’re going to be.”

      April was always good for a pep talk. Whenever Sasha felt down or doubted herself, it was April who reminded her of all of her strengths: great personality, intelligent, ambitious, pretty and a wonderful friend.

      “The months in the gym and sticking to my diet have sure made a difference,” Sasha had to admit.

      “You are going to have dem island boys salivating,” April said in a really bad Caribbean accent.

      They laughed.

      April pulled up behind a white SUV in front of Delta’s international departure gate.

      “Well, here we are.” April turned to Sasha. “Ready?”

      “As I will ever be.”

      They hopped out of the car and took Sasha’s luggage from the trunk. She had two suitcases and a carry-on, all loaded with brand-new everything, from undies to beachwear, casual to spectacular, shoes, makeup and accessories. The duo had been shopping for weeks to make sure that whatever the occasion, Sasha would be ready and fierce.

      April gathered Sasha in a tight hug. “It’s going to be great. Enjoy every minute of it,” she said in her friend’s ear. “And make sure you keep me posted on your every move. I want to live vicariously.”

      “I promise.”

      April signaled for a skycap to help with the bags. “You have all of your important papers, phone and personal items in your carry-on, right? Something to read?”

      Sasha nodded.

      “Condoms? A smart girl always carries her own.”

      Sasha blushed. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, laughing.

      “Good. Well…this is it, girl.”

      “Did I tell you thank-you?” Sasha said.

      April grinned. “About a dozen times.”

      “I wish you were coming.”

      “Chile, you gonna meet some fine island man and forget all about me,” April teased. “Just remember poor old me when you win that million!”

      The friends embraced one last time, fighting back tears with smiles, before Sasha pushed through the revolving doors and was swallowed up amongst the crowd of travelers.

      Sasha checked her luggage before moving through the long line of security, and sent up a silent prayer that it would arrive in the same place that she did. After being nearly stripped naked, she put back on her sandals, her jacket, her wristwatch and belt, returned her laptop to her bag and finally emerged into the waiting area. For a while there she’d thought she was going to have to take off her lipstick, too. She pulled her carry-on behind her, hoisted her purse up on her shoulder and went in search of an empty seat, preferably one with a view. There was still an hour to wait before her flight departed and she wanted to be as comfortable as possible.

      She spotted three vacant seats in the corner near the check-in counter. Maneuvering around outstretched legs and luggage she made it to the other side of the counter and plopped down in a seat with a sigh of relief. She took a quick look around at the passengers, sizing up who was with whom and who was single, who was on vacation and who was traveling on business. She wondered how many were going all the way to Antigua and how many were getting off at the stopover in Puerto Rico. From what she could tell there was a nice cross-section, but no one that