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It’s not like there’s anything unclear about the news.
The information is worded in a friendly tone and couldn’t be more straightforward.
Lunch downstairs before heading to the island, where billions of dollars are poured into an expensive real estate project.
My lips are parched, and the air barely rolls into my lungs.
The past forty-eight hours have been a rollercoaster, and the idea that I’m here on business has been completely removed from my mind.
Although Kai had mentioned this trip last night.
Kai. Kai… My heart clenches every time I think about him.
I move away from the door and go back to the closet. The more time I spend dressing, the worse my mood gets.
By the time I coat my lashes with a dark shade of brown mascara and check my appearance in the mirror, a frown sits on my face.
I wear a tan sleeveless dress tailored to my silhouette, a narrow belt, and heels. It’s simple and elegant, and it gives me an alluring look which is not exactly what I aim for.
Just before I’m about to exit my hotel room, I remember Alejandro’s scarf. I tie it loosely around my neck.
The colors, saturated shades of red, tan, and brown, pair well with my dress. I put my sunglasses on and step outside before walking to the restaurant.
No more asking about them at the concierge desk, checking the front for expensive cars, peeking into the gym, or swinging my gaze to the pool.
I arrive on time, and to my surprise, everybody is here, except for… Yeah. Them.
No sign of Francisco, Alejandro and Kai Walker.
His father glances in my direction but quickly moves his focus to the woman next to him.
I don’t spend much time on him either.
Theodore Sloane studies me a little longer, his eyes glinting with a knowing smile. I have no idea where that comes from, but it turns my stomach.
The food is delicious but barely makes it past my throat.
I nibble on a piece of fish before delighting myself with a strawberry shortcake.
Coffee concludes the meal before we rise to our feet and walk outside.
Several limousines wait for us. It’s strange to be part of the group, but I try getting used to it.
I had hoped they were waiting outside. That’s not the case.
I’d ask someone about their whereabouts, Marietta perhaps, but what difference would it make?
I’m doing it despite being an exercise in futility, proving to myself that no matter how much I want to pull away from them, I’m more tethered to them than ever.
Marietta doesn’t know much. They received the information like everybody else and didn’t show up.
I noticed that.
She thinks they’ll be there. Right. I doubt it.
I travel with a small group of people that doesn’t include Ted Sloane and Robert Walker, and later I chat with Marietta on the deck of a luxury yacht.
It’s smaller than Roman’s boat. And, um, speaking of that… No matter how much I drag my gaze across the water, I can’t find Roman’s yacht.
