Читать книгу Resorting To The Truth - Lisa Dyson - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTwo months later
ALLIE MILLER SAT in her office Thursday morning and checked her calendar. A thing she hadn’t done since September had rolled into October at the end of last week. It wasn’t as though she had a lot on the calendar, unfortunately. One thing stood out, though. The advertising conference she’d registered for months ago was in two days. Which meant she probably had an email this morning telling her she could check in electronically for her flight tomorrow.
Damn. She’d forgotten all about it. She’d signed up for it back when she’d been optimistic about her financial future and still worked at DP Advertising. Before she nearly joined her former boyfriend in federal prison, thanks to his extortion scheme that she hadn’t been aware of until after the guy’s arrest. That was followed by her being unfairly let go from DP because everyone assumed she’d known about it and was somehow involved.
She sighed. The conference would be worthwhile, but she didn’t want to spend a week away from Jack. Not to mention the toll it would take on her bank account. After being blacklisted in the ad industry, she had opened her own agency and didn’t have much money to spare.
Allie made a few phone calls, ending with a call to Jack at his office at Empire Advertising, his grandfather’s successful firm.
“Hey,” she said when he answered.
“Miss me already?” His tone was teasing. “I just dropped you off.” They had settled into a routine where they stayed in her Providence, Rhode Island, high-rise apartment during the week and spent the weekends at Jack’s house in Newport. A bonus was having her newly discovered twin sister, Charlotte, right across the street from him.
She explained to Jack about the conference. “So I’ve paid for the airfare, which is nonrefundable, and the conference people told me I couldn’t get a refund at this late date. I can still cancel the hotel room because I really don’t want to go.”
“It would be a great trip to make together,” he said. “I was dealing with Granddad’s health when I heard about the conference and decided I shouldn’t be that far away from him.” His maternal grandfather, now living comfortably in an assisted-living facility in Providence, had raised Jack. His grandfather had banished Jack’s father when it was revealed that his father’s latest affair with one of his college students had precipitated the argument between Jack’s parents—an argument that led to his mother’s fatal car accident.
“How weird would it have been if we’d met at this conference instead of the wedding?” She laughed.
“We would have lost all this time together,” he reminded her. “You know, if you don’t feel you can afford it, I can help you out.”
“It’s partially the money, since I haven’t been able to snag a big-name client like John Wentworth or Raymond Foster to keep my company afloat. But truthfully, I’d miss Harvey.” She was teasing about their rescue dog, but she didn’t want to get too mushy by telling Jack she’d miss him terribly. Their relationship still felt too new to jump ahead too quickly.
“You’d miss Harvey?” The humor in his voice came through clearly.
“Sure. I’ve gotten quite attached to him.”
“Glad to hear it.” He chuckled. “Hey, what about Charlotte?”
“What about her?”
“You were looking for something to get her out of this funk. What about giving her the trip? She wouldn’t have to attend the conference, but it’s a week’s vacation on an island.”
“What about the plane ticket? I can’t put it in her name.”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “See if you can get a credit. I’ll pay for a new flight once Charlotte agrees to go.”
The idea was a good one. They’d both been troubled about Charlotte’s well-being since her mother’s letter. Charlotte was consumed with grief and anger; her therapist had been unable to help her cope. Charlotte was determined to keep searching for their biological relatives and had emailed and left messages over social media for anyone who might know or be related to their mother, Barbara Sherwood. Allie thought her motivation was because Charlotte was still angry her adoptive mother had known about Allie and never told Charlotte.
“I’ll also chip in for the hotel room,” he added. “Tell Charlotte she can relax and Allie Miller will just not show up for the conference.”
“That’s perfect!” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it herself. Her sister had been so good to her since they’d met, and this trip would be a nice way to repay her. “This is really a great idea, Jack. She’s been spending a lot of time searching for our other biological relatives, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been working much. I’m worried. Her next art show is in a few weeks and I don’t see how she’ll be ready.”
“Then make sure she accepts the trip.”
“Trust me, I’ll make sure she does.”
“You are pretty persuasive,” he teased and then changed the subject. “Why don’t we plan a road trip to Vermont this weekend? The leaves are probably almost gone, but we could find a bed-and-breakfast and do some wine tasting and eat apple everything.”
She groaned. “That sounds wonderful. You’re pretty persuasive yourself. So much better than a conference by myself. I’ll call Charlotte now.”
* * *
CHARLOTTE SWITCHED THE phone to her other ear as she walked barefoot across her living room, through the dining room and into the kitchen. “A vacation? Now? I don’t know, Allie. I’m not really in the mood for traveling.”
“Come on,” Allie persisted. “You’ll have a great time. When was the last time you took a vacation?”
“It’s been a while,” she admitted reluctantly. Probably some time before Charlotte’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer a year and a half ago. Charlotte didn’t count the emotional weekend at the beach she’d spent with her mother after the doctors had confirmed her mom had only a few months left to live. Plenty of time for her mother to have shared what she knew about Charlotte’s twin sister.
“All the more reason you should go.”
Charlotte had never vacationed alone. What would she do? She didn’t even go to movies by herself or dine in a restaurant at a table for one. That’s what Netflix and drive-throughs were for. “Thanks anyway. I appreciate the thought.”
“Come on, Charlotte, you know you want to go. You need this. Take the time to relax and get a fresh perspective.”
Could she resist such a fabulous opportunity? “I have so much to do,” Charlotte lamented. “I’m showing again next month, and I still have three more pieces I want to add to my inventory. I haven’t even started them.”
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you had beautiful sunset vistas, as well as birds and trees and a bunch of other stuff for inspiration?”
Charlotte realized she was smiling at the thought, and her adrenaline kicked in. She was known for her pastels, but she’d been in a creative downswing from the moment of her mother’s diagnosis, stuck on charcoal as her preferred medium. The stark black with shades of gray on a white background echoed her current view of the world. Things had gotten worse after reading her mother’s letter.
“Is your computer nearby?” Allie asked. “I just sent you some pics of the private island, Sapodilla Cay, off the Florida coast.”
Charlotte reluctantly pulled up the pictures on her laptop. Unexpectedly, the myriad of colors in the tropical island sunset called to her. “I have been hoping to get back into pastels and—”
“You can have a working vacation.” Allie took Charlotte’s comment as agreement. “Pack your art supplies and your bathing suit. I’ll email you the ticket so you can check in. The flight leaves at noon tomorrow.”
Charlotte laughed. The situation was absurd. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You deserve it. You’ve been there for me. I couldn’t have gotten that Fairleigh account without your help, not to mention meeting Jack. Please let me do this for you. Let us—Jack and me—do this for you.”
Charlotte hesitated, but the pull of the ocean views nagged her. “This is really sweet of you, Allie. You’re such a thoughtful sister. I guess—”
“I told Jack I could convince you.” Allie’s voice came through loud and clear before Charlotte could actually agree. “Go do whatever you need to do to get ready.”
“Thank you, Allie.”
“You’re very welcome. That’s what sisters are for.”
The thought saddened her again—exactly the opposite of Allie’s intent. But Charlotte couldn’t help thinking how many years they’d missed as sisters, thanks to her mother.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Charlotte wanted to crawl back into bed. She’d barely slept after going over all the details of this crazy, unexpected vacation. Partly because she was determined to enjoy the experience and leave her grief and anger behind, but mainly because she was sure she should skip the trip and stay home.
She had stayed up way too late figuring out what to pack and what to wear on the plane. October in Rhode Island made a coat a necessity, but the temps in Fort Lauderdale and on the island would be too warm for more than a light jacket. Would the evenings on the island be cool this time of year because of the ocean breeze? She’d checked the weather app on her phone, but knew temperature wouldn’t tell the complete story that close to the ocean. She settled for layers since she always froze on airplanes when they reached cruising altitude.
Not that she’d done a whole lot of flying. Occasionally, she’d needed to fly to get to galleries where her art was being shown. Beyond that, she’d traveled by car and twice by train.
Once she had sorted out her wardrobe and realized how late it was, she had been terrified she’d sleep through her alarm clock. Not that she usually did, but because of that, she had woken every hour and then had finally gotten up twenty minutes before her alarm had gone off.
Charlotte was ready early, pacing in front of the window while she waited for the driver to arrive at her small, historic home. Less than a year ago, she’d used some of her considerable inheritance from her mother to buy the home she’d fallen in love with the moment she’d seen it. Having Jack as her friend and neighbor across the street was an additional perk.
Allie had offered to drive Charlotte to the airport, but she’d declined. Allie and Jack had done enough by sending her on this trip. There was no need for either of them to drive forty-five minutes from Providence to Newport on a workday, and then drive Charlotte another forty-five minutes back to the Providence airport.
Allie had forwarded the e-ticket to Charlotte, as well as a detailed itinerary for the trip. She’d need to figure out what it had cost them so she could repay them the entire amount. Allie had offered the trip as a gift, but Charlotte planned to foot the bill herself. Allie wasn’t financially stable yet, so Charlotte didn’t want her sister, or Jack, to spend money on her. Between her inheritance from her mother and her successful art career, Charlotte was financially comfortable.
She checked her watch. The car was now ten minutes late. The longer she had to wait for her driver, the more she had second thoughts about the trip. It wasn’t too late to back out.
But if she backed out, she’d have to explain to Allie and Jack why. She racked her brain but couldn’t come up with a viable reason. Telling them she didn’t feel like it wasn’t going to work.
She reviewed her mental list for about the tenth time. Tickets, casual summer clothes that had been packed away for the winter, sunglasses, phone and charger, sunscreen, as well as her e-reader with several novels she hadn’t had time to read. Her carry-on was filled with her art supplies to prevent loss or damage in transit. She was also careful to make sure there was nothing in her carry-on that might be confiscated by airport security.
She was about to call the car company to make sure she hadn’t given them the wrong time when a black town car pulled up to the curb. Charlotte stepped out the front door onto the porch to wave to the driver. Her suitcase and carry-on were already on the porch and she started down the steps with them to the sidewalk.
“Morning, Miss Harrington. I’ll take those.” The driver came around the car. His hat shadowed his face as he took her bags.
“Good morning. I just need to lock my door.” She smiled, slung her purse over her shoulder and locked the front door behind her.
This was going to happen. She nearly missed a step in her excitement, and she grabbed on to the wooden railing to steady herself.
Before she knew it, she was seated in a window seat on the airplane, on her way to Fort Lauderdale where she’d take a ferry to Sapodilla Cay.
For someone pretty cautious, she discovered that since there was no turning back, she was actually excited about this new adventure.
* * *
SAM BRITON STOOD on the private island’s dock next to the gleaming fifty-six-foot yacht named For My Grandkids. The Blaise Enterprises logo was prominently displayed just below it on the stern.
“You sure you’re good until Ben gets back?” John Blaise, Sam’s former father-in-law slash longtime boss, yelled from the top deck of the yacht. “I can stay if you need me.”
“I think we can manage,” Sam replied. “This conference coming in isn’t very large, about a hundred people. Between Ben’s new assistant, Katie, and me, we should be able to handle them.”
Sam’s day had begun with the resignation of his conference manager due to his mother’s illness in Liverpool, England. That was followed by a water leak in room 315 that had seeped into rooms 215 and 115. On top of that, one of the two elevators was down; a part was expected to be shipped overnight. Although, on this island, overnight shipping was hit or miss.
“I like what you told Ben about taking a leave of absence and moving his parents here. I knew you would handle the manager position like a pro.” John grinned, the deep lines in his tanned face defined, and gestured up the boardwalk. “Here come the kids.” Sam’s children, Emma and Oliver, walked side by side, rolling their suitcases and wearing backpacks. John slipped around the corner to hide from them.
As soon as they got close enough, Sam wagged a finger at them while working desperately to hide his grin. “I expect you both to behave and don’t take advantage of your grandfather.”
“Oh, Daddy.” At twelve going on twenty, Emma had recently decided she’d outgrown her father’s sense of humor.
He slumped his shoulders dramatically and tugged on her funky striped hat. “Oh, Emma.”
She huffed as she adjusted her hat.
“Papa promised we could go bowling when we get to port.” Nine-year-old Oliver could barely contain his excitement. “He said there’s a new place in town since the last time we stayed with him. They have lanes with bumpers, too, so I don’t keep throwing glutter balls.”
“Gutter balls,” Sam corrected. “Just don’t bug Papa about going. If Papa says he’s too tired or wants to do something else, then no fussing. Got it?”
Both kids nodded in agreement. He had no doubt they’d have a great time. John had been widowed for almost ten years and he needed time with his grandchildren as much as they needed time with him. If not for John’s help and support, Sam never could have concentrated on being a single dad while rising to the level of resort manager.
Of course, it helped that John owned the Grand Peacock chain of resorts, as well as Sapodilla Cay, but Sam had pushed himself harder than he’d thought possible to qualify for the position. He never wanted anyone to say he didn’t deserve it.
John popped up from his hiding place on the boat and joined them on the dock.
“Papa!” Both kids ran into his waiting arms, Emma obviously forgetting she thought she was too old to be picked up by her grandfather.
The advantage of being a grandparent compared to a mere dad.
Sam grinned and spoke to John. “Thanks so much for taking them. Monica will be back very late Monday night, so either Monday evening or Tuesday morning would work for you to bring them back.” The resort, plus a few touristy shops and sparse housing, took up most of the island, so there was no school for his kids to attend. Finding Monica to tutor Emma and Oliver, as well as a few offspring of resort employees, had been sheer luck.
“I’m glad she’s working out.” John pushed his nearly white hair back from his forehead where the wind had blown it.
“She’s been a lifesaver. She doesn’t even mind hanging around in our suite until late at night when I have to be somewhere.”
“I hope she’s having a good time with her parents.” John rubbed his unshaven cheek. “You said it’s their thirtieth wedding anniversary?”
“Yeah. She asked for the long weekend off months ago. What were the odds that Ben’s parents would need him at the same time?”
“The headaches of running a resort.” John waved to the kids, who’d drifted to the far end of the dock. They were pointing to something in the clear water, probably some sort of sea creature.
When they were within earshot he said, “How about handing me those suitcases, Oliver.” John stowed their identical blue and pink suitcases as his grandson passed them onto the yacht.
Many years ago, John and his late wife, Rita, purchased the easy-to-maneuver boat, not wanting to give up their ability to travel by sea as they aged. They never thought death would separate them long before they expected.
Barely a few minutes later, Sam hugged his kids until they squealed, and then waved goodbye from the dock. Heading back to the resort along the boardwalk that spanned the sandy white beach, his heart constricted. He missed them and their lovable quirks already.
He checked his watch as he entered the open-air lobby. Their guests should begin arriving in less than two hours. Enough time for a final review of the week’s activities with Katie and a much-needed hit of caffeine.
* * *
“GOOD AFTERNOON, FOLKS. This is Captain Jonas here.” Charlotte opened her eyes and strained to hear the pilot as the entire plane quieted to listen. They’d pulled away from the gate ten minutes ago and then stopped with no explanation before now. From her window seat, she didn’t see any other planes taking off, either. Maybe her flight would be canceled and she could go home. Her heart beat faster until the captain continued speaking.
“There’s a storm hanging out just west of the airport, and no one’s taking off. As soon as we get clearance, I’ll be back to let you know. Until then, sit back and relax.”
“Easy for you to say,” Charlotte mumbled. The noise level rose as passengers complained. She reached under the seat in front of her to pull out her itinerary from her purse. Her flight was supposed to arrive in Fort Lauderdale at three, which gave her two hours before the ferry to Sapodilla Cay left at five. Taking into consideration that she needed to go to baggage claim and then take a taxi for the short drive to Port Everglades, this plane better take off quickly. She’d never been on a trip like this before and had no idea if there would be a security checkpoint that might be backed up.
The older woman sitting in the middle seat next to Charlotte tsked as she continued to crochet something pale pink and tiny. She glanced at Charlotte. “Never fails. I’m always on the flight that’s delayed.” The woman’s bright green eyes were prominant in an oval face lined with faint wrinkles. She peered at Charlotte, waiting for a response.
“You fly often?” she asked politely. She wasn’t in the habit of conversing with strangers, but she reminded herself of her vow to have fun and leave her worries behind.
“Oh yes. Several times a year.” The woman continued crocheting as she spoke, her hands moving rhythmically. “My grandkids live in Rhode Island. I’ve been living in south Florida for about ten years.” She glanced at her hands, then back at Charlotte.
Charlotte checked the sky through her small window. “Looks like it’s clearing over that way.”
When the woman didn’t comment, Charlotte stuffed her itinerary back into her purse, shoved it under the seat in front of her and leaned her head back. Her eyes drifted shut. She hoped her seat neighbor would take the hint.
“Allie?” A woman’s loud voice came from the aisle nearby.
Charlotte didn’t open her eyes, instead regulated her breathing and tried to block out the commotion around her.
“Allie!” The woman was insistent.
The older woman nudged Charlotte with her elbow and said in a whisper, “I think that woman is speaking to you, dear.”
Charlotte’s eyes popped open to see a plump, fifty-something woman with an unruly mop of dark, curly hair and black-rimmed glasses.
“I didn’t know you were on this flight.” The woman’s speech was quick, her silver hoop earrings bouncing randomly. “I’m surprised you’re coming to the conference after the way things turned out at DP. You know, when you left.” She used finger quotes for “left” and never seemed to stop talking long enough to inhale.
“You have me confused with my twin sister, Allie,” Charlotte told her. “My name is Charlotte.”
The woman pointed a finger at her and grinned wickedly. “That’s a good one, Allie. I’m not sure how many people will believe you suddenly have a twin sister, but it’s a nice try. I have to warn you, there are a lot of people at DP who think you knew about Jimmy’s extortion plan. I’m really surprised you’re going to the conference.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to explain about finding Allie fairly recently, but she couldn’t get a word in.
“Too bad we’re not sitting next to each other.” The woman turned her head quickly to look at the surrounding passengers and lowered her voice. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about who’s going to be at the conference. Rumor has it he’s looking to change advertising firms.” She put her finger to her lips. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” The woman pointed to the front of the plane. “I’m up there on the aisle. I hate sitting anywhere else.” She leaned in the row, nearly resting her ample breasts on the man in the aisle seat, to whisper, “You know how my bladder is, and I hate asking people to move. Oh, speaking of that, I need to use the facilities before they make us buckle up. So good to see you. I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing since you left DP. Check you later.” She waved and moved down the aisle before Charlotte could say another word.
The woman obviously knew Allie from her previous job. Charlotte hadn’t considered that people attending the advertising conference might mistake her for Allie. She should have, though, since they were identical twins. From their dark, chin-length hair to their matching feet with high insteps.
“I have to ask,” the older woman next to her said. “Is your name Charlotte or Allie?”
“It’s Charlotte. She didn’t give me a chance to explain. My twin sister backed out of the conference and gave me the hotel room and travel arrangements to use as a vacation.”
The woman nodded. “Sounds like you should do some investigating into this ‘special guest’ that’s coming. I’m guessing your sister might be sorry she missed him.”
The seat belt reminder dinged, and the passengers hurried to their seats to buckle up. Charlotte considered her seatmate’s suggestion as the plane’s engines revved.
“This is your captain again. Looks like things are moving. We’re number eight for takeoff. Shouldn’t be long now.”
That seemed like a long way back in line, but Charlotte wasn’t an expert.
Her mind wandered to what the talkative woman had said about someone important attending the conference. She should definitely call Allie as soon as she was able.
* * *
CHARLOTTE’S ROOM WAS beyond beautiful, as well as being the largest hotel room she’d ever stayed in. The furnishings were luxurious, while the room was light and airy. She crossed the hardwood floor to peer out at the ocean, drawn by the gentle breeze coming from the wall of open floor-to-ceiling French doors. The water was calm, and much to her amazement, she discovered how far out to sea she could still discern the white sandy bottom far from shore.
The first thing she did was call Allie. Her sister had already left her office for the day and her cell phone went right to voice mail. Charlotte left messages both places, but she would have to try again later.
She was about to unpack when she spotted a flyer on the bed. It was an invitation to the welcome reception the desk clerk had mentioned when she’d checked in. He’d said it was for all guests, not just conference attendees.
She checked the clock. The reception had already begun. As much as she wanted to hibernate in her room, she remembered one of the reasons she was here—to push herself beyond her comfort zone. “It sounds like fun.” She spoke aloud as if trying to convince herself.
Charlotte hurried to the bathroom and brushed her teeth and her hair, touched up her makeup and applied lip gloss. She pulled a few things from her luggage, disappointed she hadn’t yet unpacked. Didn’t matter, this was vacation. A little food and a drink actually sounded like heaven.
She donned a long, flowing skirt and a matching floral peasant top. She retrieved her flat tan sandals from the outside pocket of her suitcase and struggled to buckle them in her haste.
She locked her laptop and purse in the room’s safe. There was no need to carry a purse when she had a pocket in her skirt to keep her room key.
Before going out the door, she slipped on her little white shrug with three-quarter sleeves. Even on the hottest summer days, most Newport evenings were cool enough to demand a light sweater or jacket, and this island in October was probably similar in climate.
Charlotte took the beautiful staircase rather than wait for the elevator. She’d noticed on her way up to her room that one elevator was out of service and she’d already taken several minutes getting herself presentable to attend the reception.
Partially hidden behind a palm tree in the lobby, Charlotte took in the gathering. The sight of food and a bar made her stomach growl. She thought she was being inconspicuous when she crossed the lobby to join the party.
“Hey, Allie!” one of the women in the crowd called out.
Just as she’d suspected, other people here knew Allie. Charlotte picked up a plate and reached for the vegetable tongs.
“Allie,” said a man directly behind her. “We were all wondering if you’d be here.”
Charlotte nearly dropped the tongs. She peered over her shoulder at the tall man with light brown hair, neatly trimmed facial hair and hazel eyes, who was probably in his mid-to late-twenties. She didn’t know him, didn’t know what to say. “I’m not—”
“I haven’t seen you since you left DP.” He lowered his voice. “You must be excited about our special guest.”
Did all these DP people talk constantly, not allowing anyone to say a word?
Charlotte merely nodded while she put a few carrots and broccoli florets on her plate and added a small puddle of white dipping sauce. What would it hurt if a few people thought she was Allie? Probably easier than explaining constantly. Every time she told someone about finding her sister, it reopened wounds that were still raw after reading her mother’s letter.
Everyone seemed to be ecstatic about someone special attending the conference. The more she heard, the more she was concerned that Allie wasn’t here.
Not wanting to seem rude, Charlotte turned to face the man whose name she didn’t know. “Yes, I’m very excited about our special—”
“Hi, Allie. Hi, Jared.” A woman joined them before Charlotte could finish her sentence. Great. Another person who thought she was her sister. The petite woman with whitish-blond hair was about the same age as the man Charlotte now knew was named Jared. The woman held an almost empty glass of white wine in her hand.
“Hey, Veronica,” Jared greeted her.
“Hi.” Charlotte pretended to survey the room, figuring she’d just go along with everyone thinking she was Allie for the night. During the day, they’d be at their conference and she’d be luxuriating in the sun on the beach. She’d probably never run into them again. “This is quite a crowd.”
Veronica nodded as she downed the last of her wine and set the glass on a tray with other used dishes.
Charlotte had nothing to talk about with these two. She knew nothing about them and very little about advertising. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and dunked her broccoli into the dip on her plate before taking a bite.
“I’m going to take advantage of the open bar,” Jared said. “Can I get either of you ladies anything?”
That sounded like an excellent idea, even if it meant she wasn’t ditching either of them. Better to talk to people who thought she was her sister than stand around awkwardly by herself. “I’ll come with you and see what they have.” Charlotte checked out what others were drinking. A few had little umbrellas in what looked like fruity drinks.
She pointed to someone walking past the bar and told the bartender, “I’ll have one of those.”
“Ooh, me, too!” Veronica had followed them and now she clapped her hands like a five-year-old who’d been promised ice cream. She nudged Charlotte with an elbow. “By the way, love your hair like this. It must be so much easier than curling it.”
“Um, thanks.” She touched her hair. She and Allie had their dark brown hair styled in almost identical chin-length bobs when they’d met. Allie liked hers curled most of the time, but Charlotte couldn’t be bothered since she worked from home and rarely had a need to get dressed up.
There was a lapse in the conversation. A perfect time for Charlotte to tell Jared and Veronica who she was.
Before she could open her mouth, their attention was drawn to a man ringing a brass bell.
* * *
SAM STOOD NEAR the food table and rang the bell to get everyone’s attention. When they quieted and turned in his direction, he put his glass in the air and looked at the expectant faces in the crowd. “I’m the resort manager, Sam Briton, and I’d like to welcome you all to the Grand Peacock Resort on Sapodilla Cay. I hope you’re all having a good time?” The group cheered, and he took a sip of his club soda.
He was about to begin his usual speech about the resort when the people parted. There was a face he recognized. Not a face he ever expected to see. Not one he ever wanted to see again.
Allie Miller.
Or, as he referred to the lying tramp from his past who’d attached herself to a boyfriend with no morals, Alley Cat.
