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“I don’t like your file,” he warns. “The employment agency is generally much more thorough. I don’t know why it should be different for you.”
I don’t say a word.
“But you’re here,” he allows. “And we do need more hands on deck.”
“Because of what happened to Chris?”
“What do you mean? What’d you hear?” He sits up so suddenly, I recoil into my chair. Third time the mention of Chris has led to a less than clear response.
“Umm, twisted ankle, requires medical attention,” I try out.
“Oh, that. Of course, accidents happen.” Vaughn sits back, stares at me. He has just lied to me. I know it. He knows it. And yet his expression remains cool, calm, and collected. All that talk of openness and honesty, and now this…
More pinpricks of unease. What the hell is going on?
“MacManus and his people will be arriving in just a few days,” Vaughn states. “Your duties include general care and cleaning of his lodge, with random moments of being completely and totally at his beck and call. You got a problem with that?”
“Umm, no.”
“Whatever you’ve heard about our billionaire boss, or think you know, let it go. He’s not as arrogant as they say, he’s worse. So stay the fuck out of his way, do your job, and everything will be fine. Got it?”
“Okay.”
“His entourage includes his teenage ward, Lea—”
I open my mouth, then snap it shut, realizing any questions now would be too much, too soon.
“—his personal chef, and his private secretary,” Vaughn continues. “They have their own quarters next to his. You’ll be in charge of that setup as well.”
“Gotcha.”
“You can go now.”
Now my jaw does hang open. I haven’t been so rattled and caught off guard in… forever. Slowly, I rise to standing, my gaze still locked on his, trying to figure him out. Friend or foe? Ally or enemy? I honestly have no idea.
He lied to me. I lied to him.
But which one of our lies will prove more dangerous in the end?
“Thank you,” I say at last.
“For what?”
“I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll both find out.”
I leave him sitting behind his desk with a scowl on his face.
I want to think of it as a triumph.
But mostly I think I’m in way over my head.
CHAPTER 9
THE REST OF MY AFTERNOON passes in a jet-lagged blur. Plane departs. Cheering and waving from the Pomaikai crew as they send off their mysteriously injured comrade, Chris.
I find my way back to my cabin, where I send crabs fleeing in all directions. As my new orange property mates scuttle frantically to safety beneath my unit, I feel my first twinge of compassion. As nervous as I am about crustacean life-forms, they are clearly more terrified of me.
That lasts as long as it takes me to walk inside and discover the ginormous wolf spider is now perched on the ceiling beam right above the pile of clothes from my suitcase. I stare at the arachnid, swear I can feel all eight eyes staring back. It’s not a great sensation.
