Into the pool.
The cold water was as refreshing against my hot, perspiring skin as it was shocking, and for a minute, I might have passed out. When I opened my eyes, the surface of the water was getting farther and farther away as I kept sinking deeper down.
I could have been at the bottom of the pool for a minute or an hour before someone was pulling me up. As I resurfaced, I gasped in air even as my body was like a noodle in the arms of my rescuer, who was swimming with me to the side of the pool. A few hands reached out to help pull me out, and I was lifted and then lying on the cool stone that surrounded the pool.
“Is she breathing?” I heard someone ask.
I opened my eyes again, but something black like a caterpillar clung to one, and I panicked trying to pull it away. I looked in my hand at the thing, taking longer than it should have to realize it was one of my false lashes that I’d glued on for today’s show. I was pretty sure the other one was stuck to my left cheekbone.
“She’s breathing. She’s going to be okay but I think she needs to get some shade and water.”
The voice was familiar. I focused on the face and the blue-gray eyes staring down at me with concern. It was Mike the bartender. The guy who, from the water dripping down his face and neck, I would venture a guess had been my rescuer.
There was some discussion, and after a minute, Mike was hefting me in his arms and carrying me a few feet over to where a golf cart was waiting. Somewhere in the sounds and noise around me, I had a chance to look over to the corner cabana, where Brennan was not only still lounging in his chair while the masseuse worked on his shoulders but he’d been joined by two supermodel figures sitting next to him and applying suntan lotion on each other.
In defeat, I sank into the seat and closed my eyes.
I could say with little doubt that the first mission in Operation Billionaire was a complete and utter bust.
5
It was after seven later that night, and I was nursing my wounds and my hurt pride on the small patio area outside Penny’s place while slugging down a super-sized glass of ice water and a nasty-tasting electrolyte shake Penny had insisted on making me.
Things could have gone better.
“Lesson number one. Do not let me get near a swimming pool again,” I said and grimaced after downing the last drink.
Holly came out to join us, a glass of pineapple juice in her hand, having sworn off drinking for at least the next twenty-four hours. “I feel terrible I missed your text about bringing you water.”
“It’s not your fault I took a swan dive in the pool. I should have been better prepared.”
Penny burst out in laughter. “I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed, but seriously? I wish I’d been there to see it.”
Holly joined her, although she seemed more apologetic about finding it so humorous. Now that I was thinking and seeing clearly, I could see the humor in the situation. Even if I wasn’t ready to laugh at myself quite yet.
“I can’t believe Mr. BJ couldn’t even bother to pause his massage long enough to make sure you weren’t dead,” Holly mused. “What a weenie.”
I had to agree with her on that end. Billionaire or not, the guy was a world-class weenie. Clearly too self-involved to worry about anyone or anything else other than his own comfort.
Now, I wasn’t looking for some Mr. Mother Teresa here, but someone with a fingertip full of compassion would be a bonus. Zing or not.
“I think we can definitely cross Brennan Junior off the list. Did you find anything out about Grayson?” I asked Penny.
“Janine at the concierge desk confirmed that he went for a helicopter tour around the island early this morning and then scheduled a round of golf for the afternoon. He has a reservation at this new hibachi restaurant tonight at nine then is renting a yacht to do some snorkeling tomorrow. And before you ask, there’s no way we’re going to get into that restaurant tonight. It has, like, a three-month waiting list.”
I was stumped. How the heck was I going to get any access to this man if he only went out on prebooked exclusive tours? But I counted myself as a fairly intelligent—and driven—person, and if I applied myself, I could figure something out.
“I’m starved. You guys want to grab dinner?” Penny asked. “They’re serving a buffet out on the garden patio.”
I was still pretty drained after today’s near-drowning, and the prospect of spending the next couple of hours styling my hair and applying makeup didn’t sound particularly appealing.
“It’s pretty casual. Shorts and flip-flops appropriate,” she said, making the prospect more tantalizing. “And it’s all you can eat.”
“Sold,” I said.
“I guess I could eat,” Holly said.
After running back in, we got dressed and out the door in record time, much easier to do since I didn’t have to do the deluxe glamour prep work. Instead, I opted to let my hair air dry and, other than my regular regime of moisturizer, left my face devoid of any makeup except my cherry-flavored lip gloss. I threw on my flip-flops and a comfortable cotton red-floral halter dress that fluttered around my ankles and called it good.
Casual or not, the location for our dinner out on the grass under the open sky was still breathtaking with its ocean view and a sky steeped in purples and blues thanks to the sun sinking below the ocean line. I checked the corner of my mouth for drool as I grabbed a plate and meandered through the three counters filled with food. I piled melon, rolls, grilled meats, and fresh seafood on my plate, eyeing the fresh salad bar in the corner but deciding it would only fill me up and stop me from eating the good stuff, and I passed it by.
Finally satisfied with my plate, I joined Holly and Penny. I could almost feel the ocean mist on my face, we were so close to the water. From the sounds of beating drums and applause, I was betting there were hula dancers and musicians on the other side of the garden hedge.
“I have to admit, Penny, you’ve really got a great setup here. You’re living in paradise.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. The perks slightly outweigh the stress of working under Arthur Howell.”
“Arthur who?” Holly asked.
While I stuffed myself with some kind of fruit I couldn’t identify in between bites of mahi-mahi, Penny explained how there were directors over all the departments like Housekeeping and Food Services, and Arthur Howell was the director over the front desk, who Penny reported to in her position as a front desk shift manager. Apparently, he was an absolute tyrant, especially since Penny hadn’t been his first choice for the job, but he’d been overruled by the resort’s assistant general manager, who’d met Penny when she was working at a Marriott in LA.
It appeared to be Arthur’s mission to berate Penny enough that she’d quit, which was why my friend had seemed so tired and stressed out when we arrived. We’d only been here for twenty-four hours, but I could already see some of that spark and humor back in her eyes.
“If I know you and how you work, Arthur is afraid you’re going to replace him.”
“From your lips…” she muttered.
My phone vibrated, announcing an incoming call, and I glanced down at the caller ID before silencing it.
“Whose call are you skipping?” Penny asked.