“What if I get recognized?” I choke out. I’m already so filled with tension that it has nowhere to go. Suddenly I understand why this whole situation is shaking me to the core:I can’t go through that again.
Whichever way you choose to interpret my actions in that video, that I’m potential collateral damage wouldn’t even come up in Mia Reed’s thought process when she considers paying the hackers or not. At least St Chalamet had the guts to cut ties with me before and not after, giving me a clean slate, for what it’s worth.
“Girly…” Tessa trails off. “What are the chances?”
I shake my head. Slim to none, to two hundred percent. That’s the type of luck I have.
“Honestly, Miami would be good.” Tessa reaches for my hand and squeezes hard. “You’ll find work easily. Any hospitality company would love to have you.”
Her affirmation echoes Sheila’s from earlier this morning.Don’t stay in New York; things could become nasty fast.Finding a job is my biggest concern, as it’s difficult to break into the five-star orbit, never mind the most exclusive tier where St Chalamet exists. I crawled my way into it and had planned to stick around until retirement.
“When are you leaving?” Tessa asks. “You’re giving up the apartment? It’s the logical thing to do.”
“It’s a mess. We should have given notice.” I can’t even think anymore. Not with the anxiety that comes from every potential outcome pressing on my chest, nausea roiling in my belly.
“This happens all the time,” she assures me. “They have a waiting list for this block. Finding someone is the least of our worries.”
We both sigh in relief.
“I’m going to start packing.” I finish my tea. I need to deal with the whiplash of my morning in the quiet of my room, preferably starting with vomiting my heart out.
Chapter Three
LEXI
Ten days later, my old life is roadkill that’s been picked up by the garbage truck somewhere in the night. Evan is the perfect person for me to hang out with right now—optimistic, ridiculously chilled, and in charge of myrecovery,as he calls it, which includes lounging by his pool and sipping mojitos most of the time. Now that I’ve been forced to slow down, I realize how much I needed a break.
Evening is upon us and the sun has set. Evan is heating up his barbecue for burgers. I’m on his laptop, scouring the internet for a job—any job. We’ve spruced up my résumé, so I’m ready to rock and roll.
So far nothing more has happened with the Mia Reed video and being away from the St Chalamet environment makes me believe it was all just a horrible nightmare. The shock has ebbed. I always knew I was easy to replace. Even my ever-present anxiety has taken a partial hike. And yet my eyes stray ever farther from jobs in the USA. I’ve started looking at Europe, Southeast Asia, and even Australia. How far and incognito can I really get?
When moments of panic strike, which they do in sudden surges out of nowhere, the other side of the planet looks very enticing. It won’t be forever, and I’d always planned to go places through my work. Maybe this whole situation is the catalyst to kick me out of my comfort zone.
Evan comes to sit on the deck chair next to mine and reaches for his beer. “You finding anything?”
“My dream job.” I pass him the laptop and lean back with a sigh, picking up my finished mojito and rattling the ice to coax one last sip out of it.
“An island off an island off the coast of East Africa?” Evan shoots me a glance. “Sounds like a schlep. You can get the same thing in the Caribbean.”
Not exactly. This ticks other boxes for me. It’s very far away, WiFi is dubious, and it’s in a different time zone. The shit could hit the fan, and I would only know about it later,ifI cared to look.
I know the exact moment when Evan opens the resort’s website because he draws in a sharp breath. “Wow. Exclusive much?”
“Oh yeah. Ne’emba Island is a Beaumont property. They’re on par with St Chalamet, if not more exclusive. The hotel group isn’t in the US, but it has boutique hotels and resorts all over the rest of the world.”
“This looks like something else.” He keeps scrolling, and I lean over to see what he’s looking at on the screen. “Paradise redefined.”
“Basically. It’s barefoot and relaxed.” This is nothing like the extremes of the massive St Chalamet resorts of the Caribbean. The bungalows at Ne’emba have palm leaves as part of the walls.
“Would be a bit of a mind shift?—”
“I can do with that right now.” In fact, over the past few days, I’ve become like a black crayon who’s discovered there are othercolors in the box. Imagine not having to work in high heels! I secretly hyperventilate a little, but they say change is as good as a holiday, and since I’ve been flung on this path ofrediscovery, I might as well go all out. With ten years’ experience, I have options.
“Ooh-kay. Here it is,” Evan says. “The coral reefs around the island are designated as a World Heritage Site. Only topped by the Great Barrier Reef. Jeez. I didn’t know that, and I thought I knew all that stuff.”
“It has to be recent.”
“And they’re the only property with diving rights around these atolls?” Evan smirks. “I’d love to know how that works.”
