The Honeytrap Heartbreaker

1.

The morning always rose too quickly for Ella. She half-opened one eye and sat up in bed. Frankie her English bulldog was still snoring spread out across the bottom of the duvet.

"Time to get up Franks!"

She nudged the dog with her foot and stumbled towards the bathroom.

Freshly showered she threw on her running gear, strapped Frankie into his harness and ran out of the door. It didn't matter what time it was the streets of Bal Harbour, Miami were always busy with the sun blazing down on the wandering tourists. The heat blistered onto Ella's olive skin and after around twenty minutes she decided to slow down near the beach-facing retirement home. She took a huge gulp of water and tipped the rest into Frankie's panting mouth.

"Ella dear!"

She turned her head sharply to see an elderly lady strolling towards her, beautifully greying permed hair, petite figure and a botoxed face that didn't look a day over forty – Miami was good for that, no-one grew old gracefully here.

"Grandma!"

"Oh darling, you're not running again are you? You are far too skinny as it is! Have you had breakfast? Come in I'll make you some tea."

Ella followed her Grandma June back through the towering terracotta gates of the retirement home. It was such a magnificent place: two glorious apartment blocks and a small shopping complex separating them. There wasn't much to do there apart from laundry, bingo or overdosing on caffeine but the happiness radiated throughout. It was nothing like England and that's why Grandma June loved it. People came from all over the globe to stay here and they bought a wealth of culture they couldn't wait to share with them. Grandma June would often lunch with her girlfriends at the beach café over the road or she'd sit on her balcony people watching (which was her English side shining through, as was the tea).

They sauntered across to June's apartment, bottom floor, third from the left. Frankie flopped onto the white tiled kitchen floor, still panting.

"So where have you been hiding dear?"

"Just working, you know how it is." Ella mumbled back sipping her tea.

"Still over at the restaurant?"

"Yeah." Ella's voice fluttered. It was a lie and June could see straight through it yet she smiled and shoved a plate of biscuits into Ella's face.

"So, have you spoken to your dad? He called the other day; did you remember it was Ben's birthday?"

"No. I must've been out."

Ella's whole mood dropped at the mention of Ben's name. She gulped the last of her tea and hoisted Frankie back to his feet. After they caught up on the local gossip Ella made her excuses and walked back home slowly along the seafront. Frankie loved the sea but he'd always look to Ella for approval before running into the water. He was incredibly loyal but he turned into a child the minute the water hit his paws. He'd go chasing the small fish and try to eat the waves. It always amused Ella how easy going he was, he had nothing to worry about.

Frankie shook off the water for the fourth time as Ella fumbled with her keys to get into the apartment. He went running in as soon as the door opened and headed for his water bowl. Ella locked the door behind her and put her bottle of water down on the kitchen counter. The apartment was in an okay neighbourhood but the door was always locked – before she left England she had read way too many horror stories about the crazy American gun culture. The outside didn't do the apartment justice, on the inside it was a lavish open-plan kitchen/lounge. There was a two-seater breakfast bar separating the two rooms. The front door opened into the kitchen which was all white and silver, 3 counters and a fridge freezer took up most of the room, the lounge was the larger of the two and Ella has decorated it very well. Both rooms were lined with wooden floors and beige walls but the living room felt so elegant, a three-seater black leather sofa was the main focus of the room along with the white faux fur rug, small black glass coffee table and a wall-mounted TV. Frankie's bed and bowls were tucked away into the corner next to the bedroom door, not that he ever actually slept in his own bed.