Page 7 of The Forbidden Fling

Diana had been once before. Almost two decades ago, with Jason, to celebrate their daughter’s birthday. They’d spent most of the week arguing after Jason had gotten a horrific sunburn. He’d spent the rest of his time sulking under a parasol, complaining about the lack of English beer at the hotel. “A long time ago,” she said, relaxing into her seat. “How did the storm ruin your plans?”

“I was supposed to be getting the boat across to the island,” Faye said, fingernails picking at the beer label. “But all the crossings were cancelled.”

The island?

She wondered what had attracted Faye to a course designed to ‘reset your life’. Though put together, her nervous energy didn’t go unnoticed. But she was young, smart—if her sudoku abilities rang true—and brave enough to make the journey alone. What was she concealing?

“I suppose we’ll be sharing the crossing tomorrow, then,” Diana said.

“You’re going too?” Faye eyed her, her voice dripping with scepticism. “To Sandy Springs?”

“Correct.”

Faye opened her mouth like she wanted to say more but clamped it shut.

“What is it?” Diana prompted, her eyebrow quirking.

Faye traced the beer label, picking at a folded edge. “Nothing. I’m just…surprised. Surprised that someone wearing a pantsuit like that would be interested in a self-help course on a remote island.” She bit her lip. “Not that I’m judging you. I try not to do that. Sorry. I’m rambling. It must be all the beer.” She shot Diana a goofy grin, angling the bottle so she could read the “non-alcoholic” half-peeled label on the front.

Diana couldn’t help but return the smile, finding her awkward bumbling charming. Plus, she was pretty sure there was a compliment hidden in there. Truthfully, parts of Diana’s life had wandered astray—her relationship with her daughter, her love life—but her collection of pantsuits had never let her down. She smoothed her fingers over the material as if to say thanks. “The human mind favours categorising as a survival method. So I suppose we can’t help but form opinions of others based on initial judgements. We’d exhaust ourselves otherwise.” She let her gaze fall on Faye. “Though it’s important to remember first impressions can be deceiving.”

Intriguing, even, she added silently. Like the way Faye couldn’t look at her for longer than a few seconds.

“It’s not just humans,” Faye said, drawing circles in the condensation on the table. “There’s so much of the animal world that gets overlooked or put into boxes. Everyone thinks birds are stupid ’cos they have such tiny brains, but they can count. Pigeons can do as much maths as monkeys.”

“Really?”

Faye nodded, meeting Diana’s gaze for the first time in a while. Heat lingered. An invitation. A warning. Then she glanced away. “Chickens, too. Did you know there are about thirty-four billion chickens in the world? That’s, like, four to every human. It’s a shame so many are killed every year. I kinda wish they’d evolve to better defend themselves.”

Diana considered this. “So, chickens with big bear claws?”

Faye laughed, and Diana found herself leaning closer.

“Yeah. Or shark teeth. Or venomous feathers.”

“Interesting.” Diana’s mouth curled as she pictured wild, giant chickens chasing Selena around the faculty lounge, nipping at her skirt.

“I considered breeding my own species of super chickens to release into the wild, but I don’t think I’d have time to perfect it until I’m retired.” Faye sipped her beer. “I’d also be worried they might hurt each other by accident.”

Diana chuckled, a little lost for words. There was something about the passionate look in Faye’s blue eyes, like she really believed she could save all the chickens in the world, that made her pause. A lightness she hadn’t touched in years.

A loud cheer broke out from the other side of the room. Raul and the other two men applauded the Jason lookalike as he emptied two bags of pretzels into his mouth. He pumped his fists in the air, but when his overfilled hamster cheeks reddened, the celebrations turned to panic.

The chair clattered to the floor, drinks spilling over the table. His eyes jumped around the room, his hands grasping his throat.

“I think he’s choking,” Raul said, slapping the man on the back.

In a blink, Faye appeared at Raul’s side. She wrapped her arms around the portly man and pulled inwards in three quick successions. On the last squeeze, the dislodged piece of pretzel sailed through the air and skidded across the wooden floor in a trail of saliva. The men cheered like the man had won World’s Biggest Moron, slapping him on the back and chattering in Portuguese.

Diana rose to join the commotion, her brain still trying to piece the event together. Raul thanked Faye profusely, throwing in curses and crossing his chest, while the other men crowded around the choker, offering him a drink of beer to soothe his throat.

Honestly. Diana tried not to scold them like naughty schoolchildren.

“Is everyone alright?” she asked, trying to bring the anxious energy in the room down a notch.

Raul placed his hands on Faye’s shoulders, his relief obvious. “Sim. Sim. But only because of you. Thank you. Obrigado.” He slapped the man on the back again, earning a grunt from him. “Daniel, seu porco ganancioso, eh?”

Faye laughed, but her hands were shaking. When her eyes landed on Diana’s, she explained, “He called him a greedy pig.”