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"I'll have one," he told the bartender.
"Brave man," she said, saluting him with her glass. Jack stirred his drink.
"How's Lawrence?"
"He's well." Schuyler wondered if Jack knew about his father wanting to adopt her. She didn't want to bring up such an awkward subject.
"Do you still believe they've returned?" Jack asked, meaning the Silver Bloods.
"I have to," Schuyler said simply. "It's the only explanation for Dylan--for what happened to Cordelia."
Jack looked down at his glass and shook it so the ice cubes clattered. "The Committee doesn't believe it. The crisis in Rome was abated, Lucifer was destroyed by Michael himself. There's no way they could come back."
"I know." She looked down at the dregs of her drink. "But I think The Committee is wrong."
Jack looked as if he was about to reply, but a hoarse voice called from the other side of the bar, where a raucous drinking game was underway.
"Schuyler! Jack! We need two more oars for Viking Master, c'mon!"
The next day, the whole team trekked to a hidden nature reserve on an isolated side of the island. The crew had set up makeup tents to shield the models from the heat. Bliss emerged from her cabana wearing a zebra-striped bikini with cowrie shells on its string ties, a transparent silk caftan, and jeweled thong sandals.
"Where're the parrots?" Jonas asked behind the camera.
The shot called for Bliss to hold two large, brilliantly plumed Scarlet Macaws on each arm, in homage to the ones Talitha had owned.
The animal trainer released the birds, but neither coop- erated with any of his commands. One perched on Bliss's head while the other flew around her, squawking loudly.
The trainer was finally able to free Bliss from the bird's clutches, and Jonas compromised by staging the shot with Bliss underneath a tree, next to the birds.
"Thank God that's over with," Bliss groused as she walked carefully in the tall grass back to the haven of the makeup tent.
Schuyler was called next. She was wearing a black Gucci maillot, a one-piece that could only be described as two strips of fabric down the front, culminating in a tiny V at the bottom. The stylist had taped the fabric to her chest, but she still couldn't help but feel way too naked.
"I'm going for a Blue Lagoon type of thing here," Jonas explained. "I want hot. Smoldering. Sexy. But innocent."
Schuyler eased into the cold pool underneath the waterfall.
"Ready?" Jack Force asked from the other side of the pond.
She nodded. She had known they were going to be part- nered for the photo, but the sight of Jack's toned, athletic body, in his low-waisted Vilbrequin board shorts, was making her blush.
Especially when Jonas admonished them to stand closer together. "Didn't you hear me? It's Blue Lagoon! You're obsessed with each other! Try to show it! Jack, put your hand on her thigh. Schuyler, arch your back, move so that your body is next to his. There. That's more like it."
"Sorry," Jack said, as he drew Schuyler closer.
"All part of a hard day's work, I guess," Schuyler said, trying not to let him know how much his presence affected her.
The camera snapped.
"Next!" Jonas yelled.
That night, when Jonas took out the entire crew for dinner at an outdoor restaurant, Bliss found herself seated next to Morgan, the seriously cute photo assistant. Morgan had been paying her a lot of attention all weekend. He was a sophomore at RISD, nineteen, and had an arsenal of bad jokes that kept Bliss giggling despite herself. He poured her drink after drink, not realizing that Bliss was immune to alcohol's effects.
Bliss leaned back on her wicker chair and draped her feet over his lap. After months of winter in New York, she felt free here, with the cool ocean breeze blowing through her hair, no parents to nag her, and even better--no nightmares since she'd arrived on the island.
"Wanna take a walk?" he suggested.
Bliss nodded. A "walk on the beach" sounded pretty suspicious. Wasn't that just a nice way to say "Wanna hook up?"
