Chapter Five
Donovan
“Youreallyneedtochange your cancellation policy,” I grumble to Spencer, pacing the pavilion behind the Red Earth office. As it currently stands, people can cancel up to twenty-four hours in advance, which is usually after the equipment is packed and food has been purchased. And if they don’t show up without cancelling, they’re only liable for half the cost of the trip and we have to refund the other half. Which means we’re better off waiting than leaving without Jed and Joe Masters.
The last two guests to arrive for today’s trip.
They’re over an hour late, and we’ve had nothing but a hurried phone call telling us they’re on their way.
“I know.” Spencer doesn’t look up from the checklist that he’s gone through at least four times already. Sometimes his thoroughness can be annoying, but never when it’s making sure we have everything we need for a trip. I never have to wonder if we restocked the first aid kits or have enough allergen-friendly food for those who need it.
But I’m ready to hit the road, and Tweedle-Jed and Tweedle-Joe are the first ones being added to my blacklist for the week. Well, second andthird, since one of the other guests hinted that I could share a tent with him. His implied offer came complete with an exaggerated blink that Ithinkwas supposed to be a wink.
Brody really needs to work on his game. And maybe figure out that he’ssobarking up the wrong tree, unless he wants to accidentally get hit in the head with an oar. I’m still on edge after my Derek encounter the other day, so I’m hoping this interaction with Brody is the only one like it on this trip.
The rest of the guests seem okay, though I’m not holding my breath that none of the other guys shoot their shot before the end of the week. There’s a bunch of old college friends taking up half the trip, all of them in their early forties and paired off with significant others, but the other half of the group seems to be made up of strangers who all signed up as part of some sort of single-and-mingle website called WanderLove.
Brody got here through that group and certainly isn’t wasting his money, flirting with all of the available women as well as Farah and me.
The dating website is a good reminder of why I avoid social media whenever possible. You never know what sort of crazy scams you’ll run into, and matchmaking through a public profile sounds questionable at best. Though, I’m tempted to look up the site when we get back, just to satisfy my curiosity. I overheard one of the gals say that the person behind WanderLove nailed her personality just by looking at her social media profile, and she can’t wait to see who she’ll be paired with.
Apparently their soulmates won’t be revealed until the end of the trip. Diabolical.
“Okay, but we seriously need to go,” I say, nudging my elbow into Spencer’s arm. “Thiago is falling asleep.”
Actually, I think the river guide isalreadyasleep, stretched out on top of the four-boat stack on the trailer. The guy can sleep anywhere, but he’s also prone to sleepwalking. Seems like a bad combination when he’s dozing twenty feet in the air.
Farah and Mason finished tying down the rest of the gear almost an hour ago, and it looks like the guests are getting restless, eager to climb on the bus and get this trip started.
I’m right there with them. I’m always happier when I’m on the river and away from the rest of the world.
Spencer grunts, finally hanging his checklist on the wall and taking in the sixteen people standing around the yard. He spoke to all of them as they arrived and got all the necessary paperwork signed, so his worried expression is entirely due to our missing guests. “They said they were on their way,” he mutters.
“They were told to arrive by seven or potentially be left behind,” I remind him. “It’s almost eight thirty.”
“Hi there,” a feminine voice says behind us.
Spencer and I both jump. He’s easy to startle, but Irecognizethat voice.Please tell me I’m wrong.
But no, when I turn around, it’s Janie Young standing there, the corner of her phone pressed to her chin as she studies us. I don’t think she recognizes me beneath my hat, or she would be scowling at me like she did the whole time in Chuck’s shop.
“Uh.” She glances between Spencer and me. “My boss is inside? There’s some kind of paperwork he needs to sign, right? And he wants to talk to the owner before he comes out with everyone. Oh, and he’s so sorry we’re late!”
This is a nightmare. I’m still asleep in the loft and having a strange heat-induced dream where Derek Riley is somehow Jed Masters and is coming down the Colorado River with me for a week. That’s the only plausible explanation because none of this is making any sense as I follow my very confused cousin inside the office to find a movie star sulking in the corner, an LA Thunder hat—different from the last one—pulled low over his brow. How many of those does he have? Andwhy?
“Derek Riley,” I say, unable to hide my shock.
His head snaps up, eyes wide. “Donovan.”
“Uh.” Spencer looks at Derek. Looks at me. Looks at Derek. “You’re…”
Derek grimaces, looking grumpier now than he did a second ago. “Yeah. I’m… I booked two spots under Jed Masters for the Cataract Canyon trip leaving today. For me and my friend.” He jerks his head towards the front door. Spencer usually keeps it open during business hours, but right now it’s closed, a hulking shadow standing just outside it and blocking the light from spilling through the window from the morning sun. That must be Hunter.
“Uh.” Spencer looks more confused than starstruck, but I’m pretty sure he’s reeling from this sudden shift in reality. I dig my elbow into his ribs, and he coughs, thankfully coming back to life. “Mr. Riley. You’re taking one of my trips?”
“I hope to,” Derek replies. “But I can’t unless everyone else on the trip signs an NDA saying they won’t tell anyone I was here.”
Is he kidding? No, he’s not, since Janie hurries forward and hands Spencer a piece of paper.
