Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
And I’m finding it out tonight.
I look around the courtyard. No sign of Brett yet. He should be back soon. Sienna is most likely in the air, or maybe she’s landed. And Rachel…
Damn.
Where the hell are Ginger and Rachel?
Where the hell is Brett?
I take a bite of the green mush that Emily and Misty cooked. Everything tastes like mud to me at the moment, so I’ll probably abstain from the vote. I’d like to vote for Emily, but I sure as hell don’t want to vote for Misty.
I’m seated across from Sebastian and next to June. Seb and June are carrying on a conversation across the table, and June attempts to include me on a few occasions but finally seems to give up. I finish my callaloo, and a staff member removes my plate.
Chef Pierre once again clinks his glass and introduces Chef Desi to talk about the grilled lobster and jerk chicken. Damn. I was supposed to grill the lobster, but I was talking to Evangeline in her suite. Looks like it got done without me. Not that it matters one way or the other.
Desi is jovial as ever as he talks about his famous jerk chicken, making several off-color jokes about jerking that are apparently hilarious to everyone at the table except for me.
Once we’re served, the sommelier introduces the wine pairing—an old vine Zinfandel that will complement the jerk chicken. “We’ll be pouring more of the sauvignon blanc,” he says, “for those of you who prefer white wine with your lobster.”
I prefer a couple fingers of bourbon, but what the fuck? When a staffer comes around with both bottles, I choose the red. A lusty Zin is as close to whiskey as I’m going to get with this meal. I swirl it in my glass and inhale the spicy aroma. Then I take a bite of the jerk chicken.
Yowza! That scotch bonnet is hotter than fuck. Katie mentioned that it was in the greens, but not in this amount.
I’m not the only one who reacts. Next to me, June gulps her water.
“I told you it isn’t for the faint of heart,” Desi laughs. “That’s why we offered grilled lobster for those of you who can’t take the heat.”
“I’m not sure it’s hot enough,” Seb offers, raising his glass. “This is the best thing I’ve tasted so far tonight.”
Yeah. This is the guy who used to douse everything in horseradish. I’m sure he’s loving it. I take another bite, trying to concentrate on the flavor. I didn’t taste the appetizer or the greens, largely because I’m in a foul mood, but I have to admit, it’s impossible for this dish to taste like anything but spicy jerk chicken.
And once I get used to the heat? It’s fucking magnificent. The lobster pales in comparison.
June turns to me and grabs my arm. “Do you think we have a chance at winning?”
“As much as anyone else.”
“I think so,” she says. “Once you get past the spiciness, it’s so good! Plus, the lobster is so moist and buttery. I think we might make it! And I know who I’m choosing…” She smiles.
She already alluded that she’d choose me. Fine. She’s a sweet girl, and that kiss we shared earlier was nice.
I could get to know her better. Show her I can be as fun and exciting as Sebastian or Brett. Hell, who am I kidding?
“We have to win first,” I say.
“We don’t have to win.” She trails a finger over my forearm. “We could still have a date.”
I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. “We will, June. We’ll have a date. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her blue eyes brighten. She sure is pretty, and she’s still wearing that ruffly yellow thing. Is it shorts? Is it a skirt? A jumpsuit? All I know is that it’s sexy as hell.
So why am I forcing myself not to look at Emily and her pale blond hair? And why do I feel like I’m getting kicked in the gut every time I see her flirt with Alex?
“Now that you’re getting used to the heat,” Desi says, his loud voice interrupting the murmurs of conversation at the table, “what do you think of the jerk?”
“I like River just fine!” Sebastian roars with laughter at his joke.
Seb has been ribbing me for years. It’s his way. He used to rib Alex and Jake even more. Sometimes even Brett. We’ve all been the butt of his jokes, and we usually let it slide off our backs.
Tonight, though, it pecks at my neck like that angry crow that’s been hounding me since things started to go south here.
I tense up, and I’m ready to stand up and grab him across the table when—
“Hey, everyone!” A loud voice booms through the air. “Did you really think you could have a party without me?”