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Chapter 33
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around our inlet paradise. Brandon spent a fair amount of it openly staring, as I remained topless in French fashion. Several times he insisted I needed help reapplying yet another coat of sunblock. I was generally happy to let him so long as I could repay the favor.
Just as we were starting to think about the hike back to Marseille, a small boat turned into the gully that formed our small corridor of paradise. It looked like a fisherman's boat, not much more than a rowboat with a motor affixed to the end: the kind we'd seen drive past the distant end of the inlet all day but never enter. In the front stood a man with a pair of binoculars. As the boat drove close, he dropped them and started waving so wildly I genuinely thought he might fall off the small boat.
"Who's that?" I asked Brandon, who was lying on his back and reading the latest Neil Gaiman novel.
He dropped the book to his chest, then propped up on his elbows and looked to the water, his hand a visor over his face.
"What the..." he muttered. Then, with more recognition: "Oh!"
The boat came as close as it could without hitting the shallow bottom of the lagoon, and the man hopped into the water with a splash.
"Christ, that's cold!" he yelped as he made his way to shore.
I frowned. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.
"There you are, man. Are you trying to outrun the law or something? I have literally been looking for you all fucking day."
My jaw dropped when I finally recognized who stood in front of us, clad hilariously in slacks rolled up to his knees and a dress shirt soaked through with sweat. It was Cory Stewart, head of public relations for Sterling Ventures and Brandon's potential campaign manager. My stomach dropped. What the hell was he doing here?
Brandon looked like he was wondering the same thing. Without even looking my direction, Brandon swiped my shirt off the ground and threw it at my bare chest. After catching several of Cory's furtive glances, I obediently pulled it on.
Now that the show was over, Cory dropped next to Brandon and took a seat on the pebbled beach while he wiped sweat off his brow. The boat driver, who couldn't have been more than sixteen, tossed out an anchor and pulled a beer out of a cooler.
"I have been going in and out of this goddamn maze all day," Cory said before taking several gulps from a water bottle. "If it wasn't for the tracker on your cell phone, I never would have been able to find you."
"You have a tracker on his cell phone?" I asked sharply.
Brandon darted me a quick, blue look. "It's a precaution. With everything that's happened with your dad, I thought it might be a good idea if someone could find me in a pinch. For safety's sake, just in case something happens. You have one too, by the way."
I gulped. Oh.
He turned a glare on Cory. "I'm pretty sure interrupting my vacation doesn't qualify. What are you doing here, Cory?" Brandon asked as he sat up completely and faced his subordinate.
Good question. I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head.
"There are things we need to discuss. You've been avoiding my calls," Cory replied with a pointed finger at his boss.
"It couldn't have waited another few days?" Brandon asked with a deep scowl that made me very glad I wasn't on its receiving end.
"Unfortunately, boss, it couldn't." Cory glanced at me as if just realizing that, apart from my breasts, I was actually there. "Maybe you should go for a swim, honey," he suggested with a smile that felt about as warm as ice water.
I quirked an eyebrow with all of the Brooklyn attitude I could muster. "Excuse me?"
Brandon placed a hand on my leg. "She's not going anywhere," he said. "Unlike you, if you don't start treating her with some respect. What the fuck, Cory?"
I swallowed, not wanting to get involved or cause trouble, even though I already really didn't like this guy. "Brandon, it's fine. I'll just pack up my stuff and start hiking back. You can catch up in a few minutes."
"You're not going anywhere," Brandon stated unequivocally, the hand on my thigh keeping me pinned to my towel.
I relaxed, and he released the pressure, although his hand stayed where it was. Considering how Cory was looking at me like a bug he wanted to squish, I was perfectly fine with a little territorial show. I was feeling a bit territorial myself.
Cory looked back and forth between the hand and his boss's face.
"All right, fine," he said. "To be frank, things are going to shit. Gary Crown just announced he's running for mayor, which means there's yet another competitor for the DNC's endorsement. They want you, of course, but they're getting tired of waiting around. The board is yelling for a decision on the IPO or else they are threatening to vote you out, and Miranda––" he glanced back at me "––you sure you want her here?"
"Spit it out," Brandon ordered. "We don't have any secrets."
