Sienna’s heart sank to her stomach. Vivian had a headache. Or more like Sienna was the headache Vivian didn’t want to face. She suddenly felt sick. Not that she had anyone to blame but herself, and whoever thought sunrise jackal was a good idea.
“You ready?” Marie asked, walking toward her.
“Of course,” Sienna lied, her voice sunny and camera-friendly. Whoever was watching would never know that she had tried to grope Vivian’s boobs just the night before. “I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.”
Moments later, she was climbing into the back of a Land Cruiser. The ride was both beautiful and punishing. The wind whipped through her hair. Her eyes watered uncontrollably, which surprisingly hadn’t happened last time, and every bump in the dirt jolted her body so that her back smacked against the seat, rubbing right against her tender healing skin.
“The watering hole we’re going to is very special,” Themba called over his shoulder. “It’s called Inyoni Rest. The word inyoni means bird in isiZulu.”
Sienna, who was holding on to the side like her life depended on it, nodded as if she were absorbing this beautiful place instead of wondering if Vivian was going to meet them at the watering hole. Not that Sienna expected her to. It wasn’t like every date needed narration.
“It’s one of the oldest in the reserve,” Themba went on. “It’s fed by an underground spring, so even when droughts hit, there’s always water there.”
The Land Cruiser slowed just as the dense thicket of bush gave way to an open, sun-bleached clearing. At the center of it was a glimmering pool of bronze-colored water. Three elephants stood knee-deep in the shallows, spraying their flanks lazily. A family of impalas lingered in the shade nearby, and a fish eagle sat on a branch that was sticking out of the water.
Themba parked beside a wide marula tree where the crew was already set up and ready. Under the shade of the tree was a cream canvas canopy that housed a low wooden table sitting on top of a thick hand-woven reed mat. Cushions in cream and dusty rose were scattered around it, and on the table was a spread that made Sienna’s mouth water. The ride over had seemed to cure her hangover and she couldn’t wait to dive into the roasted vegetable skewers, the grilled pork chop drizzled with honey, the half-moon-shaped spinach and feta pies, and what looked like delicious bread perfectly dense for the assortment of spreads.
“Wow,” Carla said, accidentally kicking up a mini storm of sand as they approached the tent. She flipped her head back to Sienna and said, “Thanks for choosing us.”
Sienna hadn’t chosen her. The producers had. Which, truthfully, felt a little strange because shouldn’t she be the one deciding who she wanted to date? She made a mental note to ask Elise when they got back, but for now, she wasn’t going to burst Carla’s bubble. “You’re welcome,” she said. “I’m excited to get to know you better.”
Carla beamed. Then they both followed Marie, who was already settling onto the cushions. Sienna did the same. Carla too. A PA appeared like a mirage to pour sparkling water into glasses. She thanked him and then crossed her legs.
For a minute, no one said anything.
Sienna could feel Carla and Marie watching her, both a little tentative, and she knew why. She’d disappeared halfway through the party last night. She hadn’t even said goodbye.
“So,” Sienna said, resting her elbows on her knees. “I need to apologize to you both, and every other amazing woman who is out here for me.” She also had to apologize to Vivian, whom she’d pounced on like a cat. Though honestly, no amount of apologizing—not even groveling on her hands and knees—could ever make up for that.
Carla placed her glass down beside her. Marie paused mid-bite of pork chop.
“It turns out that consuming copious amounts of alcohol is not recommended,” she said, embracing the heat in her cheeks. “And believe me when I say I didn’t plan on drinking sunrise jackals like they were orange-flavored Gatorade.” She truly hadn’t. After the first glass of champagne and the conversation with Vivian, when she said she was a lesbian, it had all just gone downhill from there. “I think it’s safe to say I’ll be retiring from alcohol indefinitely.”
Carla laughed. “Don’t feel bad. We’ve all been there.”
“I agree,” Marie added. “If you want, I can recount several occasions where I got blackout drunk. That was before I had kids,” she quickly added. “Now, I get my satisfaction from eating the chocolates I hide from them when they go to bed.”
“You’d think having kids would lead you to drink,” Carla added.
Marie seemed to consider this and nodded. “You have no idea. Last month my six-year-old twins decided to fill the swimming pool with dirt and plants, because apparently, they wanted a swimming pond like a kid in their class.” She then gave an embarrassed laugh. “I promise my children aren’t delinquents.”
“Well, you can’t say they don’t have initiative,” Carla said. Then she turned to Sienna and asked, “Do you want kids one day?”
The question was so sudden, so blindingly straightforward, and about something Sienna had never actually let herself think about that she almost choked on her fizzy water. Thank goodness, Themba was walking toward them with his hand raised.
“Ladies, look there,” he said, pointing toward the watering hole.
They all turned at the same time.
Across the water, two more elephants were making their way down the slope. One was enormous, wrinkled, and had ears like great sails. The other was tiny. Barely up to her knee, with adorable flapping ears and a trunk that flailed clumsily. It was as if it’d gotten it just that morning. The baby stumbled over a rock, righted itself, and hurried to catch up.
All three gasped.
And then the elephant calf splashed into the shallow waters, and Sienna forgot all about last night. “Look at its tiny trunk!”
Chapter Eleven
Two days. That was how long Vivian had managed to avoid Sienna.
