Then she thought of Olivia, and of all the chances she hadn’t taken to help her friend.
She took a breath.“Do you have something for the person who was supposed to help you?”
Hanna went very still.“What did you say?”
“The information you were gathering.Do you still have it?”
“Who are you?”Hanna’s voice was sharp now, all the tears gone.“You’re not Canadian tourists, are you?Did my father send you?”
“No.Not your father.”
“Then who?—”
Before Marielle could answer, the door swung open with a blast of cooler air.
Poppy stumbled in, smelling of booze.She dropped her towel on the bench without inhibition, plunked her naked body down beside it, and let out a loud sigh.
“Oh my God, you guys have the right idea.I am so stressed out.”She stretched her arms over her head, oblivious to or uncaring about Marielle and Hanna’s frozen postures.“Brad’s been in the worst mood since last night.He and Idris got into it about some business thing.Something about shipping routes?I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”
She ladled water over the stones with abandon, sending up a huge cloud of steam.
“There’s some deal that’s supposed to happen somewhere, but now Brad’s saying it’s not gonna work …” She waved her hand dismissively.“It’s all very boring and very stressful and I told Brad, I said, ‘babe, this is supposed to be a vacation,’ but he’s all wound up about money and his dad and?—”
She finally seemed to notice their silence.
“Wait, am I interrupting something?”She looked between them, her eyes unfocused.“Girl talk?”
“No, it’s fine,” Marielle managed.
“Good, because I am dying to ask you”—Poppy pointed at Marielle—“where did you get that white halter dress you wore yesterday?It was gorgeous, and it’ll totally show off my tan.”
Marielle answered on autopilot, her mind racing.Shipping routes.Customs.The Vice President’s son involved.
Poppy kept talking, her words tumbling over each other as she rambled about fashion and parties and some producer who wanted her for a movie.Marielle made appropriately interested noises while watching Hanna out of the corner of her eye.
Hanna had closed down completely, her face a careful mask.She stood after a few minutes, mumbling something about needing to shower.
“Wait—” Marielle started.
But Hanna was already gone, the door swinging shut behind her.
“Is she okay?”Poppy asked, finally noticing.“She seemed upset.”
“I think she’s just tired,” Marielle said.
“Yeah, Idris works her pretty hard.”Poppy giggled at her own innuendo.“I mean, he’s super intense about everything.Like, control freak intense.Brad says he gets it from his dad.Apparently the whole family is like that.”
Marielle wanted to follow Hanna, to finish their conversation, but Poppy was still talking.
“—and I told Brad, I said, ‘if you’re gonna be partners with these people, at least make sure the yacht comes with the deal, because this thing is amazing?—‘”
“Wait.”Marielle cut her off.“It’s more than one deal.Brad and Idris are going to be business partners?”
“Mmm, not exactly.”Poppy leaned forward conspiratorially, even though they were alone.“Apparently there’s this whole thing with shell companies and, like, moving money around?I don’t really get it.Maybe Brad’s dad wants to invest in something, and Idris’s dad has the connections, and Hanna’s dad is, like, the banker or whatever?It’s very complicated and very boring.”
“The Vice President?”
Something in Marielle’s voice must have cut through Poppy’s drunken haze and tipped her off that she was saying more than she should.
