Help? With what?
I touched my hair self-consciously. Normally I wore my dark hair pulled back in a tidy bun for work, so I hadn’t bothered to have it cut in a while. Did I look that pathetic? Was I in desperate need of a beauty intervention?
That made me think about Deanne’s YouTube channel, where she uploaded a new beauty video each week. Another wave of sadness threatened to engulf me, but I shoved it away before it could take hold. I couldn’t think about what had happened to my boss. Or what would happen if Pharma-Douche found me. I was here to have fun and relax, and let Scully and Mulder do their jobs.
Portia said the whole town was talking about a promotional gimmick by the resort. What had I gotten myself into?
Just then the ferry sounded its horn again, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Three long, mournful blasts that said we were a big-ass ship and would run over anything that didn’t get out of our way.
Visibility was so poor now that I could barely see George’s carrier at my feet. Mist swirled in front of my face, and when I inhaled, I tasted a little cinnamon on the back of my tongue. We were sailing through that heavy fog bank now.
I glanced around. Where were all the others who’d been out on the deck with me a few minutes ago? Were they still out here somewhere, but the thick fog was making it impossible to see them? They probably had more sense than me and had gone back inside already.
I grabbed George’s carrier and my suitcase, then stumbled blindly toward the doors. Almost immediately, I bashed my shin against something metallic and said a filthy curse under my breath. It really hurt.
Someone in the fog chuckled. “Looks like you’ve got yourhands full,” a very masculine voice said. “Let me help you, darlin’.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. It wasn’t my habit to use such vile language out loud like that. Just in my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Watch out for the—” A strong hand gripped my elbow, jerking me to the right, and I gave a little yelp. George hissed inside his carrier, ticked at being jostled. The man practically frog-marched me through the fog—a little presumptuous, but I went with it anyway, letting him guide me this way and that. Better than bashing my other shin, I supposed.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out what he looked like. I could tell that he was tall and muscular, though, with broad shoulders. And he smelled good. Fresh and cedar-ish with earthy top notes.
“Is the fog always this thick?” I asked.
“It’s part of the island’s charm,” he said from behind.
I wouldn’t exactly call it charming, but maybe that was what locals told themselves so it didn’t seem quite so oppressive.
“Here we are.” His shoulder brushed mine as he reached out and grabbed a door handle I was just now seeing. I got another faint whiff of his cologne. “After you.”
A wall of warmth hit me as the door opened, and I sighed with relief. I should’ve come inside earlier.
Stepping into the passenger area, I tugged hard on my rolling suitcase to get it over the threshold, remembering how it had gotten stuck on the way out.
Before I could turn to thank my tall, mysterious, incredible-smelling escort, the three girls with the cat-eye contacts shrieked in unison and jostled past me, converging like hungry vultures on fresh roadkill. And they weren’t the only ones. Others quickly joined the stampede. Although I held tight to George’s carrier, I lost the grip on my suitcase handle, and it toppled over. As I bent to retrieve it, I came veryclose to getting impaled when a woman’s high heel brushed my hand.
Straightening back up, I saw that the man was now surrounded by what appeared to be adoring fans. Was he someone famous? He had to be. No wonder he struck me as slightly pushy. He was used to being fawned over and barking orders to his people.
I wish I had “people.” I’d tell them to take my things and fetch me something to eat.
As I backed away from the crowd, I tried to get a better look to see if I recognized him, but all I caught were glimpses of dark hair and the flash of a movie-star smile.
I wandered around for a few minutes, looking for a window seat, and finally found one at the other end of the ferry. Although, honestly, what was the point? There was nothing to see through the windows except that impossibly thick, gray fog. I sure hoped the ferry captain was experienced and knew what he was doing. A boat could get lost out here. Was there such a thing as a Bermuda Triangle in the Pacific Ocean?
Two nuns were seated in the next booth over and appeared to be having a fairly heated argument. Although I’d never heard nuns arguing before, and I was dying to know why, I thought it would be rude to eavesdrop.
I put on my headphones and ate the yogurt I’d bought from a vending machine, saving the last bite for George. As he licked the plastic spoon, I told him what a good kitty he was. I was glad to see he hadn’t lost his appetite.
When he was done, I propped my feet on the top of his carrier, zoned out to some classic rock, and worked on the crossword puzzle I’d started on the plane. Besides online quizzes, which I was no longer doing—thank you very much—I loved crosswords. But not the New York Times one. Ugh. Way too hard.
As I worked on the puzzle, I decided I was going to make themost of my time on the island, despite being snookered into thinking it was going to be a tropical vacation. By the time it was over and I went back home, hopefully Scully and Mulder will have wrapped up the case against Pharma-Douche, and I could go back to my regular life. But would I even have a job if the company’s CEO was in jail? Whatever. I’d worry about that later.
I’d be perfectly fine here, as long as it wasn’t one of those freaky, hedonistic resorts where people ran around naked looking to hook up. Based on the few interactions I’d had with other passengers, I didn’t see any evidence of that.
I glanced at the nuns, who were no longer arguing. One was holding open a tin of mints as the other plucked out several. A peace offering, perhaps.
I was deep in thought, listening to an old Van Halen song and trying to come up with a nine-letter word forlycanthrope weakness, when I was suddenly blinded by brilliant sunlight streaming through the windows.
