Page 25 of The Awful Truth

“Yes, ma’am,” Travis answered. “Just like most things, the very best in the world comes from the U.S. of A.”

She took a whiff, only to be surprised by her stomach growling.

“Eat up and feel better, doctor,” Travis told her. He picked up a mug of coffee. “Now, what were we talking about? Oh right, my favorite topic. Huntin’. I was just about to ask Winslow here if he ever had done any trophy huntin’.”

Miguel snorted at the idea. Winslow shook his head. “Not really, no. I went on a few quail hunts as a young man, but I’m afraid it wasn’t my thing.”

Miguel leaned forward. “He’s being modest. Winslow was a regular at shooting weekends at Balmoral for many years.”

Travis sniffed. “Is that so, Winslow? You any good?”

“Not at all. They only invited me to make the other men look good.”

“Well, in that case, you’re my favorite kind of huntin’ companion.” He glanced at Antonia, who was doing her best to eat her meal delicately despite the overwhelming urge to inhale it. “You like that, Doc? It’s nice, isn’t it?”

She nodded. Her mouth was full, and she covered it with the cloth napkin as she answered. “Delicious.”

“It hits the spot,” he agreed. Looking at Winslow and Miguel, he said, “This here is what I call one of the many blessings of signing on with my network. You’ll be glad you hitched your star to my wagon.”

Mercy smiled brightly at Miguel. “You really will be happy. When my husband takes you under his wing, it’s for life.”

Miguel beamed at her. “Yes, it’s going to be amazing. It already is.” He fanned out his hand. “I mean, just look at where we are right now. If you had told me as a six-year-old boy living in a tiny, cramped bungalow in Miami that I would end up on a yacht on the Adriatic, I never would have believed it.”

“Isn’t life wonderful that way?” Mercy said, smiling at him. “I had a similar upbringing, I think.” She put her hand on Travis’s. “And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t thank my lucky stars that this man came along.”

“That’s only cause I’m sinfully rich.”

Mercy rolled her eyes. “You would’ve taken good care of me even if we didn’t have two beans to rub together.”

“Pennies,” Travis told her.

“What?” she asked.

His lips curled up in disgust. “Pennies, not beans.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she said, “Oh, right. I always get that one wrong.”

“Yes, you do,” Travis told her. “Now, out here on the ocean there’s nowhere to go on a proper hunt, but what we can do is go spearfishin’, so we’ll still get to shoot things. Ted, you up for that this week?”

“I’m up for anything, Travis.”

Travis let a slow smile spread across his face and turned to Miguel. “There’s nothing better than shootin’ things. Well, ‘cept for screwing, of course. I’ve done it all over the world. Africa, South America, Alaska, Europe.”

Winslow, who didn’t look the least bit impressed, said, “Shooting or screwing?”

Travis narrowed his eyes a little, but he laughed anyway. “Both, but I was talking about the first one. My den at home is full of things I’ve killed.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Not all of them legal. But that’s maybe the best part of being rich. We don’t have to follow the same rules as everyone else, now do we?”

Antonia stiffened but kept her eyes on her food. Travis was quite likely a psychopath and would remain so long after they filmed the final episode of their show. Insulting him right now wouldn’t cure him. It would just guarantee a bad outcome for her, Ted, and their staff.

Mercy let out a laugh that Antonia interpreted as forced. “Oh, you!” She turned to the rest of them. “He’s only joking. He had permits for every one of those animals.” Rolling her eyes playfully, she added, “I swear in another life Travis would have loved to play a Bond villain.”

Picking up his coffee mug, Travis said, “And my wife would have made a killing in PR. She’s always making me sound like a better man.”

“That’s because you are a better man,” Mercy answered.

Sniffing, he said, “Some days I’m better than others.” Travis turned to look at Indira, who was cutting up a star fruit. “Indira, where is Oliver at? I want him to arrange for some fishin’.”

She smiled politely at her boss. “He is taking care of some things below deck, but I will tell him.”