“Are you sureshe'sthe right one?” Veronica asks.
“As shocking as it might sound, I'm positive it's her,” Kennedy answers.
“He could dosomuch better,” Veronica says, stressing the so for far too long, if you ask me.
“Meh. He looks great on paper—rich, handsome, brilliant—but once you get to know him, he's a total wanker,” Kennedy says. “Let’s just say there’s a reason he’s a writer. He doesn’t exactly play nicely in the sandbox with the other kids.”
Total wanker? My fists curl up in tight balls and I feel the sudden need to hop out from behind this grill and start throwing punches. Why the hell I want to defendhimis beyond me though. Is it because he’s carrying a torch for me? Could that be right?Of course not. Don’t think about that, Emma. You’ll only backslide.
“I need a drink. Which way is the beach bar?” Veronica asks.
“I'm pretty sure it's over here,” Kennedy says, her voice sounding nearer.
Shit! I close my eyes, following the two-year-old logic that if I can’t see them, they won’t be able to see me. Curling up in a ball, I hold my breath.
“Emma, what are you doing?” Fidel’s voice rings out.
Busted.
I open one eye at a time and see not only Fidel, but Veronica Platt and Kennedy Carter-Shulman staring down at me.
“Praying,” I say rocking on my heels and straightening up to stand. I bow and gesture over my head, heart, and stomach with both hands. “It's part of the Carib-Asian philosophy of life. One must pray after the successful execution of a meal…to thank the food gods.” I nod knowingly, then continue to ramble on, even though none of them are buying it. “It's sort of a cross between a Buddhist Zen thing and a voodoo prayer of thanks. Anyway, enjoy the rest of your stay, ladies. The beach bar is that way,” I say, gesturing with my hand to the far right before I realize that I have just now confirmed that I was indeed eavesdropping.
Both women stare at me for a moment looking horrified before Fidel says, “I was heading that way myself. Why don’t I show you?”
And that’s how it’s done, folks. That’s how you make a complete arse of yourself in three easy steps.
* * *
It's early the next morning and I'm hurrying along the path to the restaurant under a large hat and a pair of oversized sunglasses that I hope will help me remain incognito. There's a lot of activity over near the pier, and I know that the crew is getting set for their day on the water. Perfect. This means none of them will notice me.
Lowering the brim of my hat, I step up my pace. Once I'm in the safety of the kitchen, I can stay there until these people leave this evening.
“Emma!” Kennedy's voice calls out from behind me.
Damn. Foiled again.
I pause slightly and then continue on, hoping she won't know that I heard her.
“Emma Banks! I know you heard me.”
Son of a…
I stop and spin slowly on my heel, wincing as I turn to face her. Standing perfectly still, I watch as she strides toward me, looking every bit the high-powered television producer that she is. I kind of (read: definitely) want to karate chop her in her smug throat and yet, for the sake of the resort, I know I have to resist the urge.
When she reaches me, she lowers her voice. “I don't quite know how to say this, but yesterday… Well, Veronica and I may have said a few things that, if someone happened to overhear and take them out of context, it could be disastrous.”
“Oh, you mean when I was praying? I may have heard bits and pieces, but I promise not enough to put any of it into any type of context.”
“You heard what I said about Pierce, didn't you?” she asks, taking her sunglasses off so she can get a good look at me.
“May have, yes. But I promise, it was unintentional.”
“Yes, I'm sure it was. To be honest, I can’t afford to have anything we said get back to him. I didn’t mean any of it, you understand. We were just blowing off steam, but it could have a major impact on my career if he found out.”
“Mum’s the word, I promise.”
“Thanks, Emma,” she says, letting her shoulders drop a bit. “And I’m sorry if we said anything that hurt your feelings. I was just in a bad mood yesterday with the jetlag and the stress of running this entire production.”
