The hallway is silent for so long I begin to think the twins have left, but finally Rachel’s voice comes again. “Give her a chance. We all have to work together.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess we do.” Ashley’s response sounds weighted and resigned.
There’s a flutter of creaks and clicks from the hallway as the twins disperse into their separate rooms, and I silently close my own door, backpedaling to collapse back down on the bed.
So Ashley already doesn’t like me. I’m not really surprised. I don’t fit in here, with these glamorous, gorgeous influencers. What’s worse is that she’s already pinpointed me as inauthentic, even from our brief introduction. If she can see through me that easily, why can’t the others? Why did Viv even hire me? Maybe everyone will brush it off as first-day jitters, but I have to convincingly adopt my bookstagram personafastif I want to make it here.
Plinking drips of water interrupt my train of thought. They are steady, rhythmic. Coming from the bathroom. I slowly sit up again, the towel damp around my body.
I must have left the shower on. Sighing, I ease to my feet and step from the soft carpet to the slick tile, spotted with puddles.
The foggy glass door of the shower swings open, but when I touch the handle, it’s already twisted all the way to the right. No water falling to the floor here. The dripping isn’t coming from the faucet of the sink either.
Pausing in the center of the small bathroom, I cock my head, listening.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Where’s it coming from?” I say out loud, spinning around the bathroom, looking for sources of the leak.
There’s nothing.
I suddenly feel exposed, in nothing but a towel, even though the door to my room is shut and locked. A shiver caresses my skin, spitting goose bumps along my forearms. The drips begin to come faster, a frantic energy to their melody now.
A pipe. That must be it. One of the pipes is leaking. I’ll tell Viv, and it’ll get fixed.
I turn away from the shower stall, glancing at the mirror, which is clouded by steam. I don’t want to linger, looking at the hint of my reflection; I don’t want to be reminded of the incident in the bathroom before. But as my eyes glide across the misty surface, a dark shape lurches up behind me like a whale breaching in fog.
The drips stop. The scent of salt overpowers the tiny space, invading my senses.
The fibers of the towel dig into my palms as I clutch it tightly around my body. I whirl around, but the shower is empty, its door is closed. When I glance back at the mirror, the reflective surface is becoming clearer as the steam slowly dissipates from the room. My cheeks are stained pink, and my pixie cut is a damp, tousled mess. But there’s nothing else.
No shape. No face. No dripping. It no longer smells like salt, only perfumed soap and lotion.
“It’s fine,” I insist, nodding to my reflection. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Chapter 6
Fiona knocks on my door at five o’clock as I’m brushing on mascara.
“You look cute,” she says, taking in my black shorts and rainbow crocheted top.
I don’t feel cute. I feel stressed out. I can’t stop thinking about all the loose ends back in Wisconsin or the fact that I barely have enough clothes to get me through the weekend or the conversation I overheard between the twins. Or the weird shit I’ve seen since getting on this boat. But I won’t tell her any of that.
“I think there’s a pipe leaking in my bathroom somewhere,” I say instead.
“Oh, that’s annoying,” Fiona says. “Tell Viv. She’ll have the engineer come out and take a look.”
I try to smile at Fiona, but I taste bile in the back of my throat.There have been some odd occurrences, yes, but what if I’m just being paranoid again? I don’t want Viv to regret hiring me. I’ll keep the “pipe” to myself for now.
Fiona doesn’t notice my nerves; she grabs my hand and leads me to the main level. I stop at the top of the stairs, goggling out at the living room and kitchen, now packed with undulating bodies.
“Surprise!” Fiona chimes in my ear. “We wanted to give you a legit welcome! No better way than with a party, right?”
The space is filled with people. Ridiculously hot people. I spot the twins standing near the kitchen island, margaritas in their hands, and Viv flitting around, glowing as if she has her own spotlight.
“Oh my God, I’m not dressed right for this,” I say, panicking as Fiona pushes at my shoulder.
“What are you talking about? This is totally your style. Sorry, I stalked your page a bit while you were getting settled. Those shorts match your botanical tattoos perfectly.”
