Gross. This is not what I signed up for. I sit next to him, unsure of what to do. What Iwantto do is go sit somewhere else, but I pat his back instead. “You’ll be okay. Just get it out.”
Nora gives me a look that is both sympathetic and disgusted at the same time. Seems about right for the situation.
The next twenty minutes are the slowest of my life, although I’m sure for Vincent they’re far worse. Nora and Justin continue to flirt while I’m periodically handed the bucket to empty over the side—which is pretty much the last thing I thought I’d be doing today. By the time we reach the island, every inch of Vincent’s visible skin has taken on a sickly green pallor. Justin cuts the engine, and the boat glides up to the wooden dock that juts out from a beach with sand so white, it looks like icing sugar. He jumps out and ties the rope to the dock, then holds his hand out to help us off.
Vincent doesn’t move a muscle. He just moans.
“Come on,” I tell him. “You’ll feel one hundred percent better when you get off the boat.”
“I can’t,” he groans, shaking his head.
“We have to,” I say.
“I’m too weak. I need to go lie down.”
“You can lie down here for a few minutes,” I say, desperate not to spend the entire day alone with someone who hates everything about me.
Abandoning proper grammar, Vincent says, “I go back now.” He reaches for Nora’s hand. “I trust you. Take as much video as you can, okay?”
Nora’s eyes grow wide. “I…I don’t know your criteria for whether or not Eden will work.”
“Jungle, fruit, edible plants, must look uninhabited.”
We exchange a look, and I can tell she’s about as excited about doing this with me as I am her.
“Justin, take me back now. I must get to my room so I can lie down in the dark for the rest of the day,” Vincent tells him.
Justin looks at Nora. “I can take him back. You guys’ll need a couple of hours here anyway, right?”
She nods, even though she’s chewing on her bottom lip. “Go ahead. We’ll go do what we need to and meet you back here at, say, two o’clock?”
“No later than that though, okay?” he says. “We’re supposed to get a wicked storm around dinnertime, and I’d like to make sure we’re all safely back home long before that happens.”
Vincent groans loudly, which prompts Justin to untie the rope. He tosses it in the boat and gives Nora a flirty wink. “I better get going. Good luck, you two.”
He hops in the boat and it rocks, causing Vincent to lurch forward dramatically and retch. Justin fires up the motor and salutes me. “Thanks for being on bucket duty! See you in a while!”
And then he’s gone, leaving Nora and me alone together on a deserted island.
Wonderful. This day is turning out exactly how I hoped it would.
17
When It Rains, It Pours
Nora
“Should we set off, then?”I ask, stunned this is happening.
He nods once, and we start along the beach toward the path that will take us into the jungle and up the mountain. Neither of us says a word, which suits me fine. I have nothing to say to a man who would treat someone the way he treated Paz. Especially not after he tried to get that awful Carolina Armas to plead his case for him.
You can own what you did, you big jerk. I am not going to let you off the hook, as I’m sure everyone else in your disgustingly privileged life has done.
Even though Paz didn’t turn out to be who I hoped he was, my heart still goes out to him. As disappointed as I am that he uses that stunning line on every woman he sees, I can’t blame him for trying to seek happiness wherever he goes. After all, the poor guy has been through so much.
Anyway, the point is I’m too annoyed to enjoy the gentle waves lapping against the shore or the way the sun warms my skin. I don’t care that I’ve always wanted to see the Island of Eden, and I’m getting a chance to explore it. And Icertainlywon’t revel in the fact that I’m not spending the day following a demanding showrunner around, because if said person were here, he’d provide the perfect buffer between Mr. High and Mighty and myself, even if Vincent is one of the most irritating people I’ve met.
I’m going to get this over with so I can get the hell back to the resort and away from him, hopefully forever, but more realistically, for the rest of the day. In a few short hours, I’ll be back at my flat doing laundry and watchingBridgertonwith the windows open so I can smell the rain. It’ll be a perfect Theo Rojas-free evening. I may even get rid of those crunchy plants.
