CHAPTER FIVE
“Ms. Brenna, don’t you look lovely tonight,” said Julie, greeting me at the door of the open-air restaurant that sat perched on pillars, over the jewel-colored water. It was dark out now, but I’d seen the dinner club earlier during the tour and it looked like something from a corny theme resort, with lots of leafy plants and vines snaking up the outside of the structure.
And the inside is even worse. This fantasy bullcrap was getting on my last nerve. At the far end of the “room” with the thatched roof was a big stage that had a painted tropical backdrop and small tiki torches blazing to the sides.
Love the Hawaii Five-O decorations. We’re in the Atlantic, you morons. At least, I thought we were. But we definitely weren’t in the Pacific or anywhere near the fiftieth state. Our flight from Newark had only been three hours, and the climate didn’t indicate we’d gone north, east, or west. We’d gone south.
“Thank you,” I replied, running my hands down the sides of my very skimpy backless black dress with matching strappy heels. “You look very nice, too.” She had on the standard blue-and-white blouse with a khaki skirt.
“This old thing?” She shrugged and smiled. “Oh, did you get the fantasy contract I drew up?”
It had arrived via bungalow-man Rick an hour ago but looked to be the size of a phone book. If that phonebook contained the numbers for every man, woman, and child in the United States.
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll read it after dinner, but I think it’s going to take a few hours.”
“Well, any questions, I’m here for you. The hour doesn’t matter.”
“Actually, I have a question now. Are you aware that I was taken to someone else’s fantasy?”
“Oh, yes, I heard about it right before you arrived. That must’ve been some surprise.”
“A surprise? Is that what you call forty naked men with their cocks hanging out, all lined up to fuck me?”
Julie snickered. “I’m sure that was…” Her eyes registered that I was not smiling along with her. “Oh, you’re serious. I’m so sorry, Ms. Brenna. I didn’t know you were upset about it. Most of our guests would love to spy on someone else’s fantasy. The husband harem is also one of our most popular themes. It’s why we start on welcome night—the tent is booked solid every week.”
“Well, I thought it was completely offensive and vile,” I lied. Really, it was just weird to think any woman would want that many men taking turns on her, but I’d been more shocked than offended. This entire place was…bizarre.
Why did Cici even want to come here? She had a great life, and everyone adored her. Wasn’t that enough?
“Again, my apologies,” Julie said. “Hopefully, tonight will more than make up for the error. She turned and stuck her hand in the air, waving at a pack of men toward the back of the restaurant.
“Are those the fantasy guides?” I’d never seen so many handsome men—black, Asian, Latino, and even a few gingers, all wearing tuxes. In my book, this was far better than the orgy tent. I liked men who dressed well and carried themselves a certain way.
“Heavens, no,” said Julie. “These gentlemen are all staff members—personal concierges, bungalow managers, scuba instructors, trainers, and the like. We wouldn’t want to risk ruining anyone’s fantasy by having them see their guides outside of their worlds.”
As she spoke, a tall man with tanned skin and hazel eyes, who looked to be in his forties, sauntered over, bearing a charming smile. On a scale of one to ten, he was a chisel-jawed eleven.
My tongue must’ve been hanging out of my mouth because Julie leaned in and whispered, “Luke is your date for tonight, and he loves taking charge. Just the way you like it.” There was a hint of pride in Julie’s tone. I almost hated that I would have to sabotage her efforts to please me, but I had to do what I had to do. The clock was ticking, and I’d already wasted enough time tonight.
I raised a brow. “Uh, Julie?” I said in my snottiest tone. “Exactly why do I need a date?”
She froze, and her brown eyes went all deer in headlights on me. “Oh, umm. It’s customary that we have dinner dates and dance partners for our guests tonight, but I’m happy to cancel that.” She turned toward my assigned Mr. Perfect. “Luke, so sorry, but Ms. Brenna would like to dine alone tonight.”
Like a well-trained pet, Luke didn’t bat an eyelash. He simply bowed his head. “I hope you enjoy your dinner and the show.”
“Thanks.” I turned to Julie, preparing to throw another curveball. “I didn’t actually say I wanted to dine alone. I simply asked why I need a date.”
Thinking that she’d prematurely dismissed Luke, she raised her hand to call him back.
“No. Wait. That’s not what I meant, Julie.” I placed my bitch hat firmly on my head. “Your eagerness is getting a little annoying. Why don’t you let me finish my sentence and tell you what I want? I do have a mouth and brain for a reason.” I rolled my eyes.
Julie blinked rapidly. “Ye-yes. Of course, Ms. Brenna.”
I felt so bad. She seemed like a genuinely nice person. Still, I had to push my sympathy aside for Cici’s sake.
“Great,” I said, readjusting my evening bag under my arm so it wouldn’t slip from my sweaty hands. “Jesus, what’s with the lack of AC around here? It’s barbaric.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s simply that most of the clientele don’t enjoy feeling like they’re cooped up inside a refrigerator. They like the warm tropic air—it’s the true island experience.”
“Well, it truly sucks. I’m fucking hot. Oh, and by the way, speaking of hot, I want to dine with Mr. Rook tonight.”
Her eyes shifted and her tanned face turned a shade paler. “Mr. Rook?”
“Yes. And before you tell me that he’s not here or that he’s busy, I already know that he always comes to the welcome dinner.”
Her mouth flapped for a moment. “Well—well, yes, he does usually show up, but Mr. Rook doesn’t—”
“Doesn’t what? Own this resort or care about his guests’ needs? Or are you afraid I’ll tell him about tonight’s little mistake?”
“Not at all, Ms. Brenna. I’m sure he already knows, but—”
“But what?”
She leaned in to whisper, “He’s not on the menu.”
I nodded slowly, ready to raise the stakes in my game of disgruntled guest. I had to do this, no matter how uncomfortable.
I lifted a brow. “Oh, I see. You think I want to fuck him. Well, I don’t. And how dare you insinuate that I’m that sort of woman. I just want to meet the man since his looks are legendary. What woman wouldn’t want to sample that eye candy during her stay?” According to the lady on the plane, Meg, Rook was extremely good looking. Meg certainly hoped to get a piece of him, which made me think of another phony complaint. “I’ll also point out that no one told me he’d be off-limits, so I feel that I’ve been ripped off. Even though I don’t want to fuck him. However, if I did, it would be like you’re charging someone to go to a Justin Bieber concert and then once they arrive to the show, you tell them that they’ll only be seeing cover bands. No Justin. That’s called fraud, Julie. And frankly, given that someone very close to me is a well-known journalist, I think the world would like to know that you’re swindling nice women out of their money.” I leaned in. “I paid for Justin. I want Justin. Got it?”
Her face contorted. “You want me to get Justin Bieber to the island?”
I blew out a breath, doubling down on crazy bitchiness and reminding myself that wasn’t me. I would never be so cruel.
“Julie, honey,” I smiled like a hungry lion about to tear into some flesh, “I get that you’re likely working here because even the third-class cruise ships rejected you, but try acting like you have a brain and we’ll get along just fine. I want to meet Mr. Rook, not some fucking teen idol.” I huffed for good measure. “Give me a fucking break.”
Julie’s face turned piping hot, lobster red. “Yes, Ms. Brenna. I will certainly do what I can.”
“I hope so, or I’ll tell everyone what a load of crap this place is.” For the record, I knew that I’d signed their little nondisclosure agreement. But they likely knew, as did I due to my background in international relations, which included some trade law, that a contract of this sort meant nothing if you weren’t able to enforce it. A place like this, operating under the radar, wouldn’t want to come out of the shadows simply to face me in a breach lawsuit, so my chips were firmly placed on Mr. Rook liking things to stay the way they were: quiet.
But don’t forget who you’re messing with, Stephanie. This man had the power not only to make his island disappear, but my sister as well.
Julie dipped her brunette head. “I promise I will do everything in my power to have Mr. Rook meet you, but please understand, he’s the boss. I can’t make him do anything.” Her tone was a plea for leniency.
Well, she’s not getting any.
“Ask me if I care.” I smiled. “Now where’s my table? I’m hungry.”
“Uh-uh, ye-yes,” she stuttered. “Right this way.”
I followed her to a small table directly in front of the stage.
“Excuse me,” I said, “but I’m not sitting here.” I eyed the little card with my name on it. “I want to sit in the back where it’s dark.”
Julie nervously nodded. “It would be my pleasure to move you, Ms. Brenna.” She snatched the name card from the table.
“And throw that fucking thing away. No one needs to know my name,” I griped.
Julie’s tightly puckered pink lips told me that I’d pushed her last button.
“As you like.” She slid the card into her pocket and turned toward the back of the room, leading me to a quiet table for one.
“Is this to your satisfaction?” she asked, her voice tight, her smile tighter.
“It’s great. Thanks.” I plopped down into my seat, acting like a bratty toddler who’d missed snack time.
“Your waiter will be Joe tonight, but if you need anything at all—”
“Just call. Yeah, I got that, Julie,” I snapped.
“Enjoy your meal.” She dipped her head and walked away.
I drew a slow breath to gather myself while my eyes turned toward the other guests arriving or milling about the room, talking. I didn’t see Meg or Emily—the two women from the plane—but I suspected I’d hear Meg before I saw her.
“Hello, I am Joe, your dedicated server this evening, Ms. Brenna. May I bring you the wine menu or get you a cocktail?”
I looked up at Joe, who was…yep, another hot man with blond hair, excess bulk in his biceps, and two powerful legs holding up his big body. Part of me truly wished this island wasn’t what I thought—a shithole that condoned murdering innocent women—because it wouldn’t be half bad having beautiful men waiting on you hand and foot all week long.
“I’ll take…” I paused, giving thought to the kind of liquor that might aid me in tonight’s horribly uncomfortable mission. “Can you bring me some lime wedges, salt, and a bottle of your best tequila. I like the aged stuff, if that helps.” For the record, I never drank tequila. Never. But a fruity cocktail wasn’t going to cut it tonight.
Joe blinked his blue eyes at me. “Errr… the entire bottle, ma’am?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll use a glass. And if you bring my drink in the next two minutes, there’ll be a smile in it for you. Possibly a foot massage, too.” I leaned back. “Because, damn, my feet hurt and you look like you have strong hands.”
Joe gave me a strange look. “I’ll be right back, Ms. Brenna.” He hurried off.
In the meantime, I returned to watching jubilated women entering the restaurant, being greeted by their Julies and then escorted by their Lukes to tables.
Everyone except her.
A lady in her eighties hobbled toward a large table with a blue and white floral arrangement to the side of the room. Though it ashamed me to admit it, I couldn’t imagine her participating in any of these highly sexual fantasies. Perhaps she asked for the romantic candlelit dinner like I did.
Ten minutes later, that woman’s table had four more guests, all elderly, none of them smiling or enjoying themselves. They had the faces of hostages or of someone attending a funeral.
What is going on? I hadn’t even noticed Joe returning with my bottle.
As for the other women, the eleven who’d flown in with me, they were too busy toasting their glasses, chatting with their handsome escorts or their “Julies,” and each other.
Why am I the only one noticing the creepy vibe of this place?
The music suddenly exploded and a burst of light flashed on the stage, followed by smoke. Men in grass skirts appeared, flexing, shaking asses, and dancing, while the women howled and cheered.
Except for the dreary table of five.
“Ms. Brenna? Your dinner, ma’am. Please let me know if anything is not to your liking.” Joe placed a plate of weird-looking stuff in front of me.
“Uh, what is this?”
“It’s the vegan, no dairy, nut, gluten, berries, egg, soy, salad, or imitation meat meal you ordered.”
I glanced down at the pile of dark and light mush and little slices of pita chips or something. “So what is it?”
“Eggplant baba ganoush, hummus, quinoa tabbouleh, and toasted brown rice flat bread.”
I grabbed a chip and sampled the eggplant goo. A few seconds of chewing had my mouth exploding with flavor.
“Wow. It tastes amazing,” I said disappointedly. I was wasting my time, trying to create a hassle with the food. In other words, I only seemed to be punishing myself.
“Can I bring you anything else, Ms. Brenna?” Joe asked.
“I’d like a steak—medium rare—and a salad.”
“Oh, did we make a mistake? I thought you were a vegetarian.”
“I’ve decided to take a vegan-free vacation and go a little wild.”
“I’ll have that steak for you right away.” He reached for my plate.
“No, leave it. I’ll have it as my appetizer.” I’d never had anything so delicious.
Damn this place.
He scurried off, and I sighed. More and more, I began to realize that I might simply have to engage with Rook the old-fashioned way, by throwing myself at him, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to find anything major to complain about. Even their garbanzo mush is good. And I hated garbanzos.
The rest of the show flew by, as did dinner—yes, the steak was amazing, too. So soft and juicy that I didn’t even need my steak knife. But as the evening grew late, I began feeling more anxious, shifting around in my seat, constantly glancing at the entrance.
Where is Rook? Not that I knew what he looked like, but I imagined the employees would make a fuss when he showed up.
I refilled my tequila glass for a third time and threw back a shot. The heat in my chest and the numbness in my mind felt like a welcome change from my aches and sadness.
“Hey, Stephanie! That was some show! Right, woman?” Meg appeared at my side in a red and black tiger-striped spandex dress, apparently on her way back from the restroom next to the kitchen.
“Yeah. It was really great,” I said, trying to be polite. Honestly, I’d barely watched. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the door and those five women. What if something bad was happening to them?
“So you wanna come with us tomorrow?” Meg asked, but I hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
“Sorry?”
“Snorkeling? Wanna come? A bunch of us are going in the morning,” Meg said.
“Oh. That. I, uh…I have to review my fantasy contract and then I have my date.”
“How exciting!” Meg squealed. “You’ll have to tell us all how it went, okay? Mine isn’t until Thursday, and I can’t wait because the man I chose is so incredibly…”
She went on and on about his muscles or something while my eyes floated back to the five women. One had left the table.
My gaze darted around the room, and I spotted her in the corner, talking to a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing a black suit or tux—couldn’t quite see. With his back to me, his face wasn’t visible either, but the elderly woman, who wore a light green dress and had short silver hair, was waving her frantic hands all over the place. She seemed very upset.
I rose from my seat, debating if I should intervene. Frankly, I couldn’t help feeling paranoid given what had happened to Cici.
Just then, the tall well-built man took her hand and turned around, providing a full view of his face.
My breath whooshed from my lungs, and my knees nearly lost their firmness. I’d never seen a man that beautiful.
It’s Mr. Rook. It has to be. And I simply couldn’t look away. Every part of me needed to soak up the gorgeous, imposing man in the tuxedo. His thick, wavy black hair. His full, succulent lips. The masculine planes of his angular jaw with a sexy-as-hell five o’clock shadow. The man’s face and powerful-looking body flipped a switch deep inside, triggering a lust that shamed me, given why I was here.
Then, I noticed his stunning eyes. Predatory and coldblooded, they appeared nearly translucent with a tinge of steel gray or a pale, pale blue. He was too far away to know for sure, but he was close enough to frighten the hell out of me. Was he the man I’d seen from the airplane window?
Regardless, no man should be so attractive. Or so emotionless. No wonder his employees didn’t want to piss him off. I didn’t either. In fact, I wanted to leave the room, the island, and this hemisphere—anywhere far, far away from him and his ruthless, elegant beauty, and cutthroat vibe. Sadly, however, I could do little more than remain standing with my strappy black heels glued to the floor as he glided that towering frame across the room and led the old woman back to her seat.
With his help, she lowered her frail body into her chair, and Mr. Rook kissed the top of her hand. She nodded at him almost like an admission of acceptance.
Acceptance of what?
With my shaking hand, I took a sip of tequila, only vaguely aware of Meg still standing next to me, speaking—something about meeting up later with the group for a swim.
“Sure. Yeah. Sounds great.” I nodded absentmindedly, retaking my seat.
“See you there!” She pranced away.
Meanwhile, my eyes shifted around the room of loud, happy guests eating and drinking. Two women sprang from their places at different tables, leaving their dates, and then quickly took the other’s seat, like some bizarre game of date-night Chinese fire drill.
Why is no one else noticing Mr. Rook? Could they not see him? Or maybe I was imagining this stunning man who seemed like a feral beast cloaked in the body of a gentleman.
I took another sip of tequila, eyeing Mr. Rook as he made his way around the table of five women, taking his time to kiss their hands and say a few words, like he was giving last rites.
No, Steph. You’re being paranoid. But was I? The silver-haired women looked worried or upset. I have to say something.
Slowly, I willed my body to rise again and my feet to cross the room. I came up behind Mr. Rook as he leaned his commanding frame over one of the petite women, speaking loudly into her ear.
“Everything will be fine, Mrs. Montgomery,” he bellowed. “Remember what we talked about.” His deep, velvety voice cut through the air and hummed inside my ears. It was the sort of smooth, menacing tone one would expect from a man like that.
The woman nodded and faced forward, avoiding eye contact with him.
He continued, “If you need help sleeping tonight, call Mrs. Day. She will take care of you.”
“Thank you,” she belted out. I guessed she was hard of hearing.
The other women noticed me standing behind Rook, and one cleared her throat, gesturing with her eyes for him to turn around.
He did.
Ohmygod. Every muscle in my body locked up except for my frantic heart.
“Hello.” His nearly translucent eyes punched right through me. I’d never seen anything like them, so ethereal.
“He-hello,” I muttered.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Brenna.”
“Yo-you know my name?” I stuttered.
His lips, framed by midnight black stubble—same color as his hair—twitched for a moment before curling up on one side. “I make it a point to know who’s on my island. One can never be too careful.”
I swallowed my nerves, trying to ignore his magnificence, the cut of his jawline, the straight nose, and the high cheekbones. How was it possible to feel entranced and literally mortified of a man all at the same time?
“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “The world is filled with dangerous people.”
He laughed, and the sound of his booming voice carried across the room just as music began to play. It was an old song, like maybe Billie Holiday or something, but the instrumental version.
“Dangerous, indeed.” He held out his hand, and I glanced at it, feeling confused.
“You want to dance?”
“This is normally what one does when music plays at a dinner party, is it not?” Amusement sparkled in his eyes.
“Act-actually, I only came over to introduce myself and…” I glanced at the table of women, who now scowled. Not at Rook, but at me.
Whatthehell? They clearly didn’t appreciate my presence, but why?
“And?” Rook urged me to finish my sentence, his tone full of arrogance.
I turned my attention back to his striking face and those mesmerizing eyes. I could swear he saw right through me, into my soul. Could he see that somewhere deep inside, I was hurting and I wanted to make him pay?
“And I’m not a fan of dancing.” I lifted my chin, determined not to shrink away from him.
“Neither am I, which will make us excellent partners.”
I didn’t want to dance. Mainly because I hated being touched, but also because I wanted to leave and catch my breath. I suddenly felt drunk, but it wasn’t entirely due to the tequila. This man’s presence had an intoxicating effect. I felt it right down to my toes and the tightness in my lungs.
“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your lovely dates,” I argued, glancing at the women, whose scowls turned to polite smiles the moment Rook turned his gorgeous head in their direction.
“Oh, I’m sure these lovely ladies can get along fine without me for a few minutes. Isn’t that right, ladies?” he said.
“Of course, Mr. Rook,” said the woman in the light green dress who’d been frantic only moments earlier. The woman’s hand slid to the pendant around her neck. It was a red butterfly or something. I then noticed they all wore the same necklace, like they were all part of the same club.
I stared at her face, searching her light green eyes for any indication of what the hell was up with this strange situation. Then it dawned on me. These women must be the VIPs. Rick had said that they received Mr. Rook’s personal attention.
Hmm. Maybe they’re upset because something went wrong with their fantasies. And maybe they’re glaring because they don’t want to share Mr. Rook.
But Jesus. Their frowning faces and uneasy glances gave me the distinct impression that there was more to it. Either way, they didn’t want me here.
“Ms. Brenna.” Rook cleared his throat. “I’m waiting.”
I glanced at his expectant hand.
Goddammit. I hated physical contact. I hated the sensation of not being in control of my own body when the panic set in. Still, what was I going to do? Say no? I was here for a reason, and that required me to get closer to this man.
Hesitantly, I took it and bit back a wince; however, the uncomfortable feeling I’d anticipated didn’t come. His hand felt warm and soothing.
“Very good,” he said, sounding irritated, pulling me away from the other women. “Now let’s you and I have a little chat.”
“A chat? About what?” The soothing sensation of his grip disintegrated.
“You,” he growled. “I want to talk about you.”