“Oh yes, they are facetious. Both my parents. Sarcastic, too. And really rather neglectful. I don’t think my mother has ever regarded her children outside the context of what we could do for her image. We were like little accessories, like Paris Hilton and her tiny Chihuahuas. That’s a funny word, isn’t it?” he asks, leaning so close to me, he tips over and has to right himself. “Chiiiiihuuuuaaaahhhhuuuuaaaa.”
He then starts snickering to himself, repeating ‘Chihuahua’ a few more times before he closes his eyes and leans his head on the white leather seatback. “My brother is marrying someone he doesn’t love, too. Does Whatever He’s Told Greyson, that’s my secret nickname for him. Sad really. She’s got a face like the horses she rides. Oh, that was offside. Sorry, Porsche, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I only meant to think it.”
I take a gentle right turn and soon the island comes into view, looking rather idyllic in the soft glow of the setting sun.
His eyes pop open again and Pierce says, “Just so you know, you don’t have a face like a horse. You’re lovely. I could stare at your beautiful face all day. Those eyes you’ve got are mesmmesing. Memorizing. Wait? What word am I trying to say?”
“Mesmerizing?”
“That’s the one, love. Smart, too.” He leans his chin on his hand and sighs deeply. “So smart. You’re the kind of woman who could keep a fellow on his toes. Keep it interesting. I don’t think I’d ever get bored of you, my sweet Emma. Have you got a fella? I bet you do.”
“Uh, no, I’m not seeing anyone, Mr. Davenport,” I say, trying to remind him this isn’t an episode ofBlind Date.
“Call me Pierce,” he says, giving me an intense gaze. Closing his eyes, he starts singing at the top of his lungs, “Swwweeetttt Emmmmmmmaaa. Bah, bah, bah! Good times never seemed so good! I’ve been inclined. Bah, bah, bah! To believe they never would, would, would…”
Oh dear. Now he’s gone full Neil Diamond on me. I hope he doesn’t vomit in the boat. Although it is rather flattering that he’s serenading me, isn’t it? A rich, famous, hot guy serenading me. I’m going to let myself enjoy this moment because this is not something that happens to a girl every day. (Let’s just ignore the fact that he’s whacked out on codeine, mmkay?)
“…Hands! TOUCHING HANDS!!! REACHING OUT!!! Come on, Emma, sing with me!”
Oh, what the hell?
“Touching me! Touching youuuuuu!” we both sing, tilting our heads toward each other. I have to say, I haven’t had this much fun since my last night in New York, which I really don’t remember, but I’m pretty sure was a great time. We stare at each other while we sing and when I forget the words here and there, I laugh at both of us. Who knew snooty rich guys could be such a hoot? Not this lady…
By the time we reach the dock, the song is over and Pierce is out cold. I cut the engine, dock the boat, then stare at him for a minute. “Now what? I can’t exactly carry you up to the villa.”
His eyes pop open suddenly and he shouts, “I’m up! Is the elephant starting?”
“Umm…in a minute. We have to get you out of the boat first. We can take the golf cart, I think.”
“Just exactly what is going on here?” Alfred’s sharp voice cuts through the air.
I look up to see him standing on the dock with a very stern look on his face. “Mr. Davenport was attacked by an iguana earlier today and has been fixed up and given some excellent pain meds.”
Alfred narrows his eyes at me. “Attacked?! You should have let us know.”
Pierce sways a little and points his cast at Alfred. “Don’t talk to my Sweet Emma that way or I’ll be forced to thrash you.”
Thrash him? Oh dear, he’s definitely going to vomit, isn’t he?I give Alfred (who looks scandalized) a satisfied grin. “I was in too much of a hurry to get Mr. Davenport to the hospital to pop by and ask you and Phyllis to have his room made up,” I say, feeling emboldened by the fact thatI’mour VIP’s Sweet Emma. “Now, if you could be so kind as to help me get him up to the villa, it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Yes, of course,” Alfred says, looking slightly taken aback.
Pierce stumbles toward the side of the boat, trips and falls, gets back up while giggling hysterically, then grips Alfred’s extended hand. “Thank you, Alfred. You really should lighten up, old boy. Life’s too short to be so serious all the time.”
“Yes, thank you,” Alfred says, helping him onto the dock. “I shall try to…lighten up.”
“Good show,” Pierce says with a firm nod. He grins at me, then back at Alfred, then belts out, “Sweeeetttt Allllfred! Bah, bah, bah!”
Huh. Now he’s serenading the butler. Maybe not so special after all.
Alfred and I each take a side of Pierce and walk him to the golf cart while he continues to sing. We deposit Pierce into the backseat, then I climb into the driver’s seat with Alfred next to me.
He finishes the song when we’re about halfway up the mountain, then says, “Alfred, are you and Phyllis happy?”
“Quite, sir. We very much enjoy working with you.”
“Stop sucking up, you wanker. Are you glad you got married or not? Because I’ve never been interested in marrying anyone my entire life. Except, now that I’ve met Ms. Banks here, I’m suddenly not so sure…”
Alfred gives me an alarmed look and I shake my head as I round the curve. “He’s high as Snoop Dogg.”
