I move right, angling for the lounge furniture. I’ll just take a minute to sit and breathe. And I’m taking these damn shoes off. Heck, at this point, I feel like throwing them in the pool. Maybe I’ll throw myself in too. Sink to the bottom. Count to one thousand. My pity party is interrupted by the sound of a deep voice. I turn the corner to see another secluded seating area. Soft patio lights hang on the underside of an arbor, casting a twinkling, golden glow. Ilmari paces in his shirtsleeves, phone to his ear. He’s speaking low in Finnish.
