Rosy places a hot mug of tea in my hands, then sits down on the armchair near me and pats my knee, reminding me of the many times we sat in this very spot when I was a child and needed some cheering up. I smile at her, feeling the full comfort of being around my resort mum once again. She’ll understand me. She always does.
“Extra cream and sugar, just how you like it. Now, tell Rosy what happened.”
I launch into the story about the axe murderers and the useless golf carts and rude, picky Pierce Davenport and trick knees and bunions, jumping from thing to thing so I won’t accidentally leave something out. When I finish, I notice that Rosy’s not sitting forward patting my knee anymore like she was when I started talking. Instead, she’s sitting back staring at me with her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. When I finish, she says, “So you had a bad week.”
“Technically eight bad days withhorriblenights in between,” I mumble, holding the mug up to my lips.
“Seems to me you’re overtired so you’re panicking about all the responsibility that Harrison’s given you.”
“First of all, I’m not panicking,” I say, scowling. “And second,what responsibility?I’m cooking for one guy.” I hold up my index finger. “One.It’s an insult that Harrison and Libby would stick me out there instead of trusting meherewith a real kitchen and staff and a proper menu.”
Rosy’s head snaps back. “An insult? Have you lost your damn mind? That private island is the only thing that’s going to keep the wolves from the door. If it’s not occupied at least 80% of the year, this entire place is going to get handed over to the bank.”
My stomach drops at the reminder of so much riding on my shoulders. “That may be, but evenWillcould handle this job and all he can do is open canned food. Seriously, my talents are being wasted out there.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re planning to run, aren’t you?” Rosy shakes her head.
“Run? What is that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t know you have a habit of running when the going gets tough?”
“I do not,” I say, sitting up straight.
“Yes, Baby Bear, I’m afraid you do,” Rosy answers, as she starts counting on her fingers and listing things I’ve quit. “Girl Scouts—”
“That scout leader had it in for me.”
“—the soccer team—”
“The coach had a serious case of halitosis and all the other girls were so…girly.”
“—culinary school…”
I gasp loudly. “I came home to help the family out when there was a crisis!”
Sighing, Rosy says, “You sure it wasn’t because you were failing Sauces 201?”
Shit. “How did you know about that?”
“You left your email open when you borrowed my computer. I couldn’t help but read it.”
“There were special circumstances there… You know what? I don’t have to explain myself. I’ve completed my training and now I want to makeproperuse of it. Running arealkitchen, not some tiny, duct-taped, three-burner, no broiler, laminate cupboards, dilapidated old houseboat.” I set the tea down on the table and stand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find my brother.”
I start for the door but her voice stops me in my tracks. “Mmmhmm. You’re running. I knew you would.”
Spinning on my heel, I say, “I amnotrunning. I’m just trying to make sure my talent and education are fully utilized for the benefit ofeveryoneat Paradise Bay. It’s called a win-win situation.”
Rosy stands. “Call it what you want. You don’t like the job so you’re running, which means letting Harrison down.”
Anger bubbles in my chest and I glare at Rosy. Damn her for being right. There is literally nothing I can say to defend myself, is there? “Thanks for the tea!” I bark as I swivel around again to leave.
“You won’t find your brother. He’s gone into San Filipe. To thejewellerystore.”
My shoulders drop and I turn back to her, the wind from my angry sails completely gone. “Is he proposing to Libby?”
Nodding, she says, “Tonight. He’s got the entire thing planned. He’s whisking her off to a beach house on the north side of the island for a few days. He wanted to do it the first chance he could and had planned to do it the day after Eden opened, but there was a crisis in housekeeping and he had to put it off,” she says, taking a few steps toward me as she talks. “Your brother and Libby have been working day and night to save this resort and they deserve to celebrate without any problems. But, if you want to ruin it because you’re scared of the elderly couple living next door and you had to walk up a hill in the rain, he should be back in about an hour.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I say, “Have you always been this evil?”
