Fidel pulls up and stops with a screech of the tires. “If it isn’t Emma Banks, Paradise Bay’s new master chef!” he calls, hopping out to give me a hug.
“Hey, Fidel!” I hug him back, completely forgetting how I smell until he stiffens up, then quickly lets me go.
“Are you all right?” he asks, blinking.
Oh, God. I’m make-you-blink stinky, like a freshly opened can of Surströmming. “Sorry about the smell. I ran out of time to shower before my flight.”
“What smell? You’re fine,” he lies, quickly moving away from me under the guise of being in a rush to load my luggage in the back of the jeep. “How were your exams?”
“Since you asked, I had the third highest average in my class. No biggie.” I shrug, climbing in the jeep and buckling the seatbelt.
“No biggie,” he says, giving me an ‘as if’ look while he slides into the driver’s seat.
“Okay, it is pretty huge. I was only four points off the top chef’s marks, which is a minuscule difference, really. The head instructor said I’m one of the most talented poissoniers he’s ever seen.” I grin widely at Fidel, who chuckles at me.
“God, I hope you don’t poissonier anyone. That would be really bad for business.”
“Haha. A poissonier is someone who works with seafood.”
Fidel pulls out of the arrivals lane, and we head toward the main road to take us south to the resort.
I yawn loudly as we make our way across the freeway into the fast lane. “God, I’m really wiped. I could use about forty-eight hours of straight sleep.”
“You may not get it,” he says, glancing at me. “Things are pretty nuts with the opening of Eden. Harrison and Libby have been working full out for the last six months to get everything ready.”
“Did I say I needed forty-eight hours of sleep? I meant a shower, a pot of coffee, and I’ll be good to go.”
The Island of Eden is sort of the last resort for our resort. We had a hurricane nearly wipe us out two years ago and the wolves have been at the door ever since. If the launch fails, the bank will own everything by the end of the year—the thought of it makes my stomach churn. But, never mind, I’m home to stay, and for the first time, I’ll be able to make arealcontribution to the family business. I can take a lot of the load off Harrison and Libby’s shoulders at the main property so they can focus on making Eden a complete success.
I watch as the palm trees whiz by, and I let myself enjoy finally being warm all the way to my bones. “How are Winnie and baby Harrison?” Fidel and his wife, Winnie, named their firstborn after my brother. I’m secretly hoping they have a girl next, so there could be a baby Emma around too.
Fidel’s entire face lights up. “Great! He’s a little spitfire, though. Always on the move and ready to try anything. Winnie says she’s never been in such great shape in her life on account of chasing him around all the time.”
The next fifteen minutes, Fidel talks non-stop about his son, then switches to filling me in on the gossip from around the resort. One of the towel-folding girls and a very married pool cleaner started up a relationship and got caught in cabana number ten doing the mambo number five by his wife, who works in laundry services. She tried to strangle them both with a pillowcase, so that’s got everyone talking.
Unfortunately, Fidel doesn’t give me any sort of hint about which restaurant I’ll be hanging my chef’s hat in. I know Harrison wants to tell me himself, but I was hoping for some type of clue. Not that I won’t be happy with any assignment I’m given. I’m really just grateful to be home where I can start phase B of my ‘become the world’s most respected chef and make my family rich’ plan.
My heart pounds as we start down the long, palm tree-lined driveway to the lobby where I’m sure my entire family and a bunch of the staff will be waiting to greet me. I bet they put up a big sign and everything! Damn, I wish I’d showered. Grabbing out some lip-gloss, I try to make myself slightly more presentable. I flip down the visor and glance in the mirror briefly before giving up. No way to salvage what I’ve got going on here.
When we pull up in front of the large open-air lobby, my heart sinks. Nobody is here. Well, a smattering of security staff and porters and several guests are milling about, but there are no signs of a welcome home party. Huh.
Fidel parks in front, then starts to get out.
“Hey, Fidel, you wouldn’t mind driving me to Harrison’s so I can dump my stuff and have a shower, would you?”
“Sorry. Harrison said to take you straight to his office.”
Oh, so the party’sinside.
“Okay,” I say nonchalantly even though I’m super excited.
“You go ahead. I’ll stow your stuff in the luggage storage room for now.”
“Thanks!”
Taking the steps two at a time, I wave and say hi to the staff as I hurry inside and through the lobby to the back offices. As I pass Rosy’s office, I see the lights are off. I can hear Harrison’s voice coming from behind his closed door. He’s pretending to be on a call when I’m pretty sure everyone’s crammed in there waiting to surprise me. What a guy! My brother’s the best, isn’t he?
I knock lightly, then practice looking genuinely surprised before I open the door.
