“Right,” Nathan says as he shifts in his seat. “I see how it was. He was your senior, was he? How high up?”
“General manager in training,” I whisper. “God, I was so dumb. He used me to—to… I don’t know. Heusedme.”
“Yes. I’m sorry this happened to you. What he did was the ultimate fuck-you to St Chalamet’s management, and he knows it. Dragging a hotel you work for into scandal is a quick way to damage a reputation without taking any hits yourself.”
Nathan’s sympathy is so out of left field that I choke up again, and for a long moment, he lets me do just that. I take a few shaky breaths to get a grip.
“You see, Lexi, a company’s culture is spread from the top down. Brent Fisherman should have known better than to prey on younger members of his staff.” Nathan leans back, and I wipe my face, the truth of the situation only hitting me now. Inever expected to feel this level of relief at finally admitting the truth. To beseenlike this. “I’ll put Fisherman on our blacklist. Trust me, he’ll never work at any of the big hotel chains in the world again.”
I want to burst into tears again, but instead I give him a shaky smile. “Thank you. For understanding.”
“The worst for you has come to pass, with the video going viral as it did.” He studies me for a few long seconds. “Given how things have turned out, I’d reconsider my position, if I were you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I believe Mia Reed is suing St Chalamet for damages, but honestly, that’s a long shot. If I were you, I’d request payment from St Chalamet to keep quiet.”
My eyes widen.Did he just suggest I blackmail St Chalamet?“You can’t be serious?”
“They threw you under the bus, Lexi, without blinking. It will serve them right.”
My throat tightens. I’d never thought of that angle. “I’m not the type to… I don’t know.”
Nathan leans closer. “Think it over, sleep on it, and see how this pans out. Postscript, you never got the idea from me.”
I bite my lip, dropping my gaze.Who is this guy?
“Now, that’s your story. Want to tell me what Tristan Martinelli is up to in his spare time?”
This is Day One of No More Lies, not even tiny white ones.Sorry, Tris. I’m doing this for you.“He’s working on his love letter to the ocean,” I say. If Nathan understood me, maybe he’ll understand Tristan too.
“A love letter? To the ocean?”
“Yes. He’s been working on a TV series about symbiosis in the oceans for years. He’s trying to wrap it up, but he has a deadline and…” I trail off. “You should ask him, really. Even better, you need him to show you.”
“I see. Okay.” Nathan glances at the crate where the police dumped Tristan’s electronics earlier. “That explains a lot.”
“It’s amazing.He’samazing. Please, I know he hasn’t said anything because it was all so rushed, and that’s my fault, but he needs to finish it.”
“Well, we don’t just allow people to film at Ne’emba. There’s a reason these reefs are so well preserved. We don’t allow hordes of divers to go through here. People care, but they are negligent too, and they can damage delicate corals without even trying.”
I nod. I know nothing of diving. But I do know the past few months have been enough. I can’t anymore. I need a break. Like, a proper break. And I need to get away from Tristan while I can still keep myself together and my last shred of dignity intact. “You don’t really need me here,” I start, trying to find the words for what I need. “Between Jem and Mike?—”
“I know. They have everything under control. They are the custodians of the land here, and as you can see, they take it very seriously. The thing is, they’ve never wanted the responsibility of being the managers. I don’t know why, but we’ve always had a Beaumont face from Europe as front of house here.”
“Yes, I see.” Jem and Mike might not like ultimate responsibility, but the final moment to take responsibility for all my actions is now. Even if Nathan has been kind and understanding, I need to go. I want to go. After last night with Tristan, this is the moment to rip off the Band-Aid. “That’s perfect, though, that they have everything in hand, because I’m going home. I honestly can’t pretend anymore. This fake engagement is too much. I can’t work for Beaumont with a clear conscience…and I can’t be around Tristan.”
At this he hitches his brow. “Really? He hasn’t?—”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I just need space.” I don’t want to stick it out here with him until April, making roadkill of my heart.
“Hmm…” Nathan steeples his fingers together. “I can’t stop you, as you well know. If you want to go, the floatplane is here. We can arrange flights for you back to Miami. No problem.”
“Thank you.” I stand and straighten my clothes, and Nathan follows suit. “This was a great opportunity, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you like this.”
“I think you didn’t want to disappoint yourself. St Chalamet hasn’t done right by you. I can understand that you’d want a break.”
Jem chooses this moment to walk back into the office, a tray in her hands. “Nathan, we’ve put together some of your favorites. The bananas are almost done.”
