Page 16 of Strictly the Worst

“And he’s given us a list of the things he’d like you to include in your presentation. So I’ve booked you for some of our trips. Now William will take you down to your accommodation.” She smiles widely. “With an ocean view, of course.”

William has already taken our cases and loaded them up on the white golf cart with Gold Resorts emblazoned on the sides. He leads us out, and Salinger climbs into the front seat next to him, while I slide into the back.

He keeps up a steady chat about the resort. He used to work for another hotel, but since this one opened last year, he’s been happier than ever. He tells us he saw the resort being built a couple of years ago and assures us that we’re going to love the stilted cottage that we’ve been upgraded to.

“Cottages,” I correct.

He turns to look at me. “No,” he says. “Cottage. For the both of you.”

I look over at Linc, expecting him to laugh. But he looks as confused as I am. I widen my eyes at him and he shrugs, then turns to look at William.

“There’s been some miscommunication,” he says. “We need separate beds. We’re not a couple.”

William stops the cart and turns to look at us both. “The cottage sleeps four. There are separate beds. One in the bedroom and a sofa bed in the living room.” He grins. “Unfortunately there’s only one bathroom.”

Linc turns around and our eyes meet. He lifts a brow and I shrug. There’s not much we can do about it now. The receptionist told us they were fully booked, and it’s not like we have to share a bed or anything.

Maybe it’ll even be useful, having a shared space to work in.

“It’s fine,” I say, my voice tight.

It’s Salinger’s turn to shrug, but he looks distinctly uncomfortable. “All good,” he tells William, who nods and continues the drive to the cottage.

The warm breeze lifts my hair as I climb out and look around.

Our accommodation is a low wooden cottage on stilts, built right along the beach, nestled among palm trees. It’s far enough from the other cottages to make you feel like you’re in your own private piece of paradise. My first thought is how much Zoe would love it, and I feel a little pang in my chest because I’m missing her already.

I can’t remember the last time I was away from her for this long.

“You okay?” Linc asks and I realize he’s already taken a few steps toward the cottage while I’ve been staring out, my head full of thoughts. I blink them away. If we get this contract my bonus will be enough for me to pay for the rest of the renovations in the apartment and take Zoe away during her school vacation.

“I’m fine. Sorry.”

William is already carrying our cases up the stairs. Linc follows him up and I trail behind, with my hat on again, suddenly feeling apprehensive. This man is big and built and the cottage is small.

The thought of sharing it with him – even for a few days – makes me feel strange. Just as I reach the bottom of the steps a tiny bird flies down and lands on the rail in front of me. It has a purple neck and a brown body with a long, thin beak. It turns to look at me as though sizing me up.

“Look at this,” I whisper to Salinger. He turns around and a smile plays on his lips as the little bird starts to hop up the rail like it’s walking up the stairs.

I hate the way I react to his smile. Like I’m one of his Hampshire PR girls.

“That’s a Bahama Woodstar,” William tells us. “A male, because he has that coloring.”

“He’s a little show off,” I say as he flutters is little wings. “Why is it always the men that have the brightest coloring?”

“Because we have to find a way to get the girl,” Linc says dryly.

I clear my throat, and the noise makes the tiny bird fly off. He disappears into the trees right as William opens the door to the bungalow and steps to the side so we can walk in.

The next five minutes are taken up with a tour of the cottage. He proudly tells us about the history of the resort, how he has lived in Exuma for the last fifty years, having relocated here with his family from Nassau where the tourist industry exploded. There’s a control pad by the door for the blinds and lights that he explains to us. Then he takes us into the bathroom and explains how the rainfall shower, complete with light effects, works, then shows us to the bedroom.

It feels very crowded with the three of us in here.

I try not to look at Linc. Instead I shift my feet. It’s his turn to clear his throat until I finally let my gaze rise up.

“You have dinner reservations at the beach restaurant at seven-thirty,” William tells us, after he’s shown us the sofa bed and explained that the maid service can make it up each night. “We will pick you up at seven-fifteen.”

“How far is the restaurant?” I ask him.

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