Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Gigi snatches it from my grip and digs in. “My lips are sealed.” With her mouth full, she asks, “So, what’s new?”
Normally, I would spare her worries about the business, but today, I need Gigi’s nonjudgmental ear as I unload on her and confess my sins.
“Gosh, Dave too.” Gigi picks away at her scone. “But sounds like this director of whatever is helping you out.”
“More like helping himself out, so he can win brownie points with the big boss.”
“You’re splitting hairs, Sloane. He gets what he wants, you get what you want. Just take the win. Lord knows we need it against these big companies comin’ in and changin’ everything.”
“I haven’t won yet. We’ll see how many people I’m down next week. And, even if Ronan keeps his side of the deal, who says they won’t quit on me, anyway?” Are they unhappy at the Sea Witch, or is this a greener-grass situation? The case of the big and shiny distraction.
“It wouldn’t be the first time we lost staffers during high season. I remember back in, oh, what was it now?” She frowns at the ceiling. “Had to be ’02. Sandy was still around. You were a wee thing.” She smiles as she reminisces, the mention of my mother stirring foggy memories. “Anyway, Bill Deckers started a business just like ours. That bastard poached my captains and half my beach workers. Paid them a dollar more an hour.” She harrumphs. “All these years later and Sea Witch is still going strong. Where is Bill Decker?”
“Didn’t he die?”
“Well, yes, but before that, he was runnin’ from creditors. Don’t you worry. You’ll manage just fine.”
“Frank put up a Help Wanted sign in the window. I don’t know how long it’ll take to replace all three captains. Until then, I guess it’s me and Frank filling the gaps.” I still captain the tiki boats every now and again when we’re desperate.
“Lord help those poor people.” Gigi hoots with laughter. “I love Frank, but keep him on the shore.”
“I’ll be scheduling myself a lot,” I agree. One reviewer counted the times Frank smiled during their trip to Starfish Island—twice, and once it was because a patron fell off his chair.
I already feel better, just talking it out with Gigi, even if there’s no solution to be found at the end of the conversation. But Gigi has always had a way to make the biggest disappointments feel minor in the grand scheme of life.
Speaking of big disappointments …
“Cody came into the shop.”
“Oh yeah? What’d that scheming cockroach want?”
Gigi never liked Cody, but she kept her mouth shut until after we broke up. She said she had learned her lesson with my mother, after getting into a row over a man from Texas my mother claimed she loved. Angry, Mom ran off with the guy, only to show up back home two months later, heartbroken and pregnant. He had wanted her to get rid of it.
Of me.
To this day, I have no idea who my father is, and no interest in finding out.
“A reference letter for his time running the Sea Witch so he can work for Wolf.”
She snorts. “The only thing that boy ever ran was his damn mouth.”
“I told him he’s not getting anything from me. If he wants to work for Wolf, he’ll have to lie his way in.”
“If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s lying.”
“Yeah. Well, I warned Ronan about him, so we’ll see if Cody can sweet-talk his way into a job.”
Gigi studies me as she chews. “This hotel fella … any interest there?”
I falter on my answer. “I mean, there was until I found out who he worked for.” Not to mention the fact that he rejected me after I kissed him.
“And now you’re suddenly not interested? What should his job matter?” She scoffs. “It’s not like he’s dealing drugs. It’s a perfectly respectable occupation.”
“But he’s also a liar. Check this out.” I dig out my phone and open my photo album to the picture I saved last night.
“Oh dear, this isn’t what I think it is.” Gigi tsks. “You promised me you’d delete the Henry Wolf file.”
“I did, I swear! But something about Ronan seemed familiar, and I couldn’t figure out what. Then he told me Henry personally hired him, and it triggered something, so I found the pictures again.” I hold up my phone to show her a magazine photo of Henry Wolf alongside his groomsmen. I’d seen wedding pictures before during one of my hate-stalking sessions—they weren’t hard to find, splashed all over the internet—but they were nothing more than a group of obscenely attractive people celebrating a man who was destroying our peace. “This is Ronan.” His dark hair is cropped short—nearly a buzz cut—and he’s less muscular, but there’s no doubt it’s him.
Gigi hums. “That boy’s face sure has been blessed.”