‘I’m a man of many talents.’
‘Get on with it.’
‘That land just so happens to be for sale. And I know for a fact that islanders don’t want some monolith built there. Imagine all that vegetation gone, all that biodiversity demolished. Ecologists study the flora and fauna unique to this island. Marine biologists study the coral reefs and on it goes with all of us doing our bit to protect and preserve our environment and making sure that tourism that admittedly pays for our livelihood doesn’t cause further degradation. Yet here we have Xavier, wanting to line his pockets any way he knows how.’
‘I thought it was two suits looking at the land?’
‘It was and then they met with Xavier afterwards.’
‘So who are they?’
‘Likely investors. I’m sure Xavier alone doesn’t have the capital but with some money behind him, he’d be able to pull it off.’
‘And you think he’d do that?’
‘Why wouldn’t he?’
Michel’s concerns are understandable. The rainforest he’s talking about is visible from here. According to the guidebooks I’ve flicked through in the Barefoot Bookshop it’s thick and lush and teeming with wildlife. It’s also what makes the Last Chance Resort feel like a hidden paradise, bookended by so much verdant greenery and birdsong. I gaze out the tinted window and instead imagine a resort there, blocking not only the view, but taking away the pristine nature of this island.
‘He’d ruin his own resort if he built there.’
‘Not if his plan is to sell this one and upgrade.’
‘Is that his plan?’
So much for letting my troubles float away in blissful harmony. Now I’m concerned about the ecological effects of building on the island and how razing the beautiful land will destroy the homes of all that precious flora and fauna.
‘It’s not like he’s going to ask permission, is it? It’ll all be done on the sly until it’s too late for us to protest.’
‘Can you even protest, if the land is legitimately for sale?’
‘Probably not. It’s privately owned.’
That is a depressing thought. The masseuse moves from my shoulders to my back, working her nimble hands in a deep-tissue massage that is sorely needed. Michel miraculously falls silent as he gets the same treatment. Not for long though. Soon, he’s letting out a series of rather disturbing moans as if he’s enjoying it a little too much. It’s hard to tune out, but I do by focusing on the meditation music and my masseuse’s magic fingers. Would Xavier really sell the Last Chance Resort? And why do I care? I blank my mind and give in to the sensation of the massage, and soon Michel’s soft snores float between us. Men, eh? Can switch off just like that.
26
Another busy week passes. I’ve mostly settled into my routine and I’m almost able to forget the reason I escaped to the island. Of course, that’s when I get the email from Tia’s legal team. Not just from a single solitary lawyer. It’s signed off by an entire legal team. Yikes. I hold my breath as I read, dizzy by the time I come to the end of it, and confused to boot.
I figure out the time difference and call Lily.
‘Hey, hey, don’t tell me. It’s a balmy thirty-two degrees and you’re going swimming with your tortoise friend before you fall into a day bed at the bookshop and read a book. Honestly, I’m so jealous it hurts.’
I laugh. ‘Well, yeah, Turt Vonnegut would be cute to swim with, but he sleeps most of the time. This might sound crazy but he looks so sad, like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or maybe he’s just an old man who is set in his ways and I can respect that. It’s balmy all right – the humidity’s enough to curl your hair as well as your toes, I’m not even joking.’
‘I could handle that after another summer’s day in London where bloody rain is forecast. So much for sunshine, eh? Send me another pic of old man Turt. I love his little face. How is it going with all those hotties you’re surrounded by? Xavier, the hot hotelier with a chip on his shoulder and a smouldering smile, the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Michel, the incorrigible flirt who flies choppers over the rippling blue blanket of the Indian Ocean… And is there anyone else I should know about?’
I haven’t confided in Lily about my attraction to Xavier. While she’s the non-committal type in her own relationships, she’s always hoping I’ll find my happy ever after. And Xavier isn’t exactly my ideal man so there’s no point mentioning it. It’s just some weird pull he has, probably over everyone. He’s shockingly handsome, and that is a red flag. He’s probably never had to develop his personality because of his looks, and that says it all.
I cagily sidestep her question. ‘Have you taken up reading romance novels, Lily?’ It’s unlike her to speak so whimsically.
‘Yeah, after I readBang, Bang!I kind of got the taste for it.’
I gasp. ‘You likedBang, Bang!?’ If Lily’s a fan, maybe I am completely off base with my suspicions. I may as well admit to defamation and offer the legal team all my worldly goods which amount to one fabulously curated romance novel collection and a range of IKEA Billy bookshelves and be done with it.
‘No, no, I didn’t. I see exactly what you mean about the clunky robotic writing, the plot that goes nowhere. When I finished it, I wanted to compare it to another cowboy romance, for comparison purposes, and that’s where my addiction started. Cowboy romance is a vibe!’
‘Okayyyy?’
