“Oh, she’s not in here,” the woman said, cheekily.
With their stolen moment interrupted, the couple left the room, and Gabby snuck out of the closet. She breathed a sigh of relief. The download was complete. She grabbed the USB drive, tucked in the desk chair, and made for the door.
Halfway there, footsteps padded down the hall. “Gia!” someone called.
Oh fuck. She was found out. She moved toward the closet, but the person was just outside the door. They would see her getting into the closet, which would be even weirder than lurking in the office.
“It’s dinner!” Jasmine called, her Australian accent giving her away. Gabby froze in fear for a moment. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was she going to do? Markus wasn’t here—no kissing in a closet excuse. No…
In a flash of brilliance, it came to her. She did a deep squat in the too-tight pants, and the sound of splitting seams and rending fabric met her ears. She had done it.
She owed this excuse to frozen pizza, boxed wine, Starbucks, and the Taco Bell drive-thru. Taco Bell had officially just saved her life.
A second after Gabby’s pants completely split, Jasmine opened the door. “Gia, what are you doing in here?” She scanned the roomas if to see what was stolen, clearly sure that Gabby was up to something.
Gabby felt herself blush and said, “I was seeing if there was anything I could do with these.” She turned to show Jasmine the split ass of her pants.
Jasmine blurted out a laugh. “Ohmygod. Really?” She shook her head. “Come with me.”
Gabby relaxed. Bumbling ineptitude was on her side once again, and the USB was tucked safely in her pocket.
When they sat down to dinner, Markus squeezed Gabby’s leg and whispered in her ear, his breath tickling the nape of her neck, “Nice work, Agent.”
His hot breath and the whisper of a kiss momentarily transported Gabby. She glowed with happiness at the praise from Markus and the anticipation. She wouldn’t mind sharing that bed tonight, as long as he never found out that she was spying on him. Or maybe that was just the business? It was only her second mission.
With a questioning look, he asked, “Is that outfit—?”
Jasmine saw the look on his face and said, “Do you like? I was dying to have Gia try out my refined loungewear collection.”
Sweatpants. She was wearing sweatpants, and they felt so good. “I love them so much, Jasmine. I’ve never felt more at home in a pair of elegant pants.” This might be the one souvenir she would bring back.
“You don’t find them too casual?”
“Not at all.” Gabby smiled. For the first time since she’d been on the island, she felt like herself.
After dinner and dessert, Naomi called across the table, “Sheridan, when are you going to do readings for everyone here?”
G said, “Naomi’s a genius. You know it was her idea to bring Sheridan to the resort?”
That was news to Gabby. She glanced at Naomi, who was taking a sip of her mocktail.
“I’m such a big fan ofUncommon Sense. How about a reading, Sheridan?” Naomi asked again.
Sheridan politely declined, but G stepped in. “I can do you one better. I have something special for you all.”
Gabby’s heart sank. Couldn’t they all just go to bed?
She and Markus exchanged an annoyed look. But if the guy you’re spying on invites you to stay “for something special,” you can’t sayno.
2100 hours, past bedtime, Jasmine and Genesis’s screening room
Genesis was a movie star first, cult leader second, at least based on his screening room. It wasn’t just a theater; it was a small planetarium. The seats reclined to almost horizontal, and the screen extended onto the ceiling. The walls were draped in velvet, and the air clouded with incense. It might have been a floral incense, but a cloud of smoke never reads as floral. It reads as opium den.
“Are we going to watch a movie?” Gabby whispered to Markus.
He shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Something was off about the vibes, like they were sliding fast into real cult territory. Gabby imagined a sacrifice, ritual sex, partner swapping—every yoga cult on HBO did that stuff. Gabby glanced at Markus for reassurance.
