Nathan picks up a croissant and chugs back a glass of orange juice. “Keep them warm, Jem. I have a dive to catch. Help Lexi arrange flights home for today. She’ll take the floatplane to Dar. We’ll catch up later.”
I watch, jaw slack, as Nathan walks out, leaving me alone with my nemesis.
Chapter Forty-One
LEXI
Ihasten out of the office, mumbling as I shoulder past Jem. “Excuse me. I need to pack my things.”
“Where’re you going?” she calls after me, but I just shake my head, my heels hitting the wooden boardwalk as I almost slip into a run. Now that my mind is made up, nothing is stopping me. The need to leave is almost overwhelming. If I stay here a minute longer than necessary, I won’t be able to breathe.
When I get to our cottage, I groan into my hands. The police have wrecked it. Who knew you could create such havoc in so little time. Our things are strewn on the floor, bedding twisted in a lump, my vibrator lying lonely on the bed, partially covered by the mosquito net they tossed up to check for drugs under the bed.
To think you can reach your lowest low and highest high on the same day. Being accused of being a drug-smuggler on this side of the planet—it can’t get lower than that. But then, with every passing minute, I’m floating higher on the relief of having wiped my slate clean. I’ll never work for St Chalamet—or probably even Beaumont—again, but that’s fine. I’m starting tothink this five-star environment isn’t for me. It’s just too much. I can hack out a career at a small boutique hotel or a motel chain and feel right at home.
For a short second, my training pleads to kick in, but there’s no chance in hell I’ll plump a pillow now. I head straight for the bathroom and start packing. I’m almost done when someone calls my name.Jem.I lean against the vanity for a second, taking a deep breath. I can’t avoid her now.
I walk out of the bathroom and meet her gaze where she’s standing, eyes wide and bosom heaving, in the middle of the living area. “What’s happened?” she asks.
For real?You happened, Jem.Serves her right to be clueless. “I’m leaving. I need a flight from Dar es Salaam?—”
“Yes, but Nathan…the police…the coastguard…”
None of them jumped to conclusions.That volcano in me, the one that’s been building pressure for weeks when it comes to her, erupts. “None of them found anything!” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “There’s nothing to find. You have no clue what’s going on here. And with your wild assumptions, you’re going to ruin Deshni and Roger’s lives!”
“Wild assumptions? Nobody has proven me wrong yet,” she bites back.
“Nathan didn’t buy this drug-smuggling fantasy you’ve sketched. He just went diving, with Tristan. When they come back, Tristan will show him what he’s been working on.”And once Nathan has seen Tristan’s work, he might be able to negotiate a way to keep on filming, I can’t stop myself from thinking.
I give Jem a cold stare, childishly gratified that she’ll have to sit with her mess until lunchtime. By then, I’ll be gone. I turn my back on her as I head into our closet and force myself to take a deep, calming breath. Losing my head with Jem isn’t going to help anybody here.
I sort through our two rails of clothing and slip my clothes from the hangers. The Beaumont uniforms they can keep. “You have all the evidence you need,” I tell her as I palm my phone and passport, where they’ve been snuggled between my underwear. “Deshni was only putting forward plans to improve the spa. If Roger has sailed out in the middle of the night to Pemba, it was to get fresh spices from Pemba for the spa, not to haul drugs! Deshni and Sarika have fantastic ideas, but I see why they never wanted to share them with you.” I shove my valuables into my purse, which I haven’t used for weeks, and poke my head out of the closet. “I bet the reason nobody ever gets ahead in this place isyou!”
I stare at her, unflinching, and she’s the one to drop her gaze first. Jem’s broken pieces finally fall into place. “You don’t trust yourself, do you?” I ask, my voice softer now. “With the ultimate responsibility of this place? With actually dealing with difficult guests and being that last line of defense?” I can relate to that. Even with Matthias de Foch, I was like a gaping fish out of water, and Tristan had to step in. Next time, I’ll deal with De Foch’s type myself.
“What do you know about it? You had all the training! One big hotel after the other,” Jem says, defensive, but there’s a vulnerability in her tone I’ve never picked up on before. “Ne’emba is my life. I’ve grown into my job.”
I swallow a snarky comment. Despite everything, I’ve had privileges this woman has never had. “Maybe,” I say. “But Jem, you’re holding other people back too, whether it’s consciously or subconsciously. You love Ne’emba, but just because you don’t have the guts to run this place by yourself doesn’t mean you can’t give others the opportunities they need and crave.”
Jem wipes her face and drops down to pick up a pillow. “Where do you want to fly? I need to book you a ticket.”
I bite my lip. “Miami. Please.”
She nods. “Okay. I’ll book it now. You can get to London on the same day if you leave here by noon. From London, there’ll be many options.”
“Thank you…” I hesitate for one last second. “You need to advocate for yourself, Jem. Tell Nathan what you want. I promise he’ll make it happen.”
“Maybe.”
I watch, clutching my arrival-day jeans in my hand, as she walks out of the cottage. I toss them into my gaping suitcase as all the fight drains out of me. I look back at the closet, where I’ve emptied my side. Tristan’s disconnected chargers sprout from the plugs like alien seedlings. His airport engagement ring catches the overhead light, and I close my eyes as I run my thumb over the diamond one last time. This is going to hurt.
With a fist squeezing my heart, I try to take it off. On a good day it fits perfectly, but now, just like when we arrived, it won’t budge. I rush to the bathroom sink, soap up, and eventually wrench it from my finger. Back in the closet, I put it down where Tristan’s laptop has made a dust-free rectangle. Clearly housekeeping needs a talking to. I reach for the Beaumont-embossed writing pad he’s pushed to the side and pick up a pen.
Dear Tristan,
I told Nathan about your project. I knew it would be better coming from you, but he had me in a corner, and I didn’t want to lie. I’m done doing that. This was an adventure, wasn’t it? I loved every minute we spent on this island, but they don’t need me here. Leaving now makes things so much easier. We had a hard cut-off date from the start, and now we don’t need to have that godawful awkward flight all the way home where we both try to get out of a sticky situation.
I hope you can negotiate something with Nathan to finish your series. He’s one of the good ones.
