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“She needed a ride to work.” Kenna braces her elbows on the rail, looking out over the sea. “I’m under no delusions that she actually likes me. But I believe in keeping your enemies close.”
“Enemies?”
Her gaze flicks to me, then back to the water. “Nobody should ever treat a friend like she did you.”
This conversation is a revelation a minute. “I don’t know why she did it. I assume Rhett will figure it out, eventually.”
“Figure what out?”
“That there was no way I could have intentionally made a mistake like that. I don’t have the experience or authority.”
“But you had him sign all the requisitions.”
“I brought Rhett a lot of things to sign as his assistant.”
“He tossed you right out. Everyone was talking about it.”
“I was there.” Now it’s my gaze that stays on the water.
“He must have believed you were at fault.”
“Doesn’t make it true.”
We sit there a while longer, the waves smashing against the side of the ship. Behind us, the “Chicken Dance” is playing andpeople must be participating because I hear theclap-clap-clap-clappart.
“You’re missing all the fun,” I tell Kenna.
She whirls around, back against the rail. “I’m not a ‘Chicken Dance’ kind of girl.”
I am, and Viola is. But I can’t go out there.
“Are you going to tell Viola I’m here? Or Rhett?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so. I probably wouldn’t last long in a torture situation.”
This makes me laugh. I didn’t realize Kenna had such a dry sense of humor.
“Just remember if they handcuff you with duct tape, lift your arms and bring them down fast.”
She snorts. “Noted.”
I long to turn around and look at the crowd, but I resist. I could get Kenna in trouble, too.
“You probably shouldn’t stand with me for long,” I say. “It might get noticed.”
“Are you going to hide the whole time?”
My gaze follows a sea gull winging over the water. “No. But I’m delaying the reveal. Maybe on the island tomorrow.”
“He’s going to be incredibly pissed.”
“I know. I’m looking forward to it.”
Kenna pushes away from the rail. “Good luck, Bailey.”
I remain in position as long as I can stand it. A conga line song plays. I want to be out there, drinking rum runners and whooping it up.
But not yet. I follow my instinct at all times, and it’s saying to hang back, hold on a little longer.
