Page 45 of Strictly the Worst

“Why not?”

Her question is simple yet so complicated I don’t know where to start.

“Because I’m older. A mom. I should know better.”

“You’re a woman, Tessa. A beautiful woman. And you’ve had a shit couple of years. And from what I’ve seen this guy Linc is pretty hot. Has he made it clear he’s not interested?”

I think of last night. The way he hugged me. The gentle touch of his hands as he stroked my hair.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I think he might be.”

“Of course he is.” Angela says. I can picture her rolling her eyes at me. “What guy wouldn’t be?” Then she lets out a cough. “Ignore that. What guy other than a dick with no sense wouldn’t be?”

I start to laugh. “When you put it like that…”

“Seriously, honey. You only have two nights left to have fun. What happens in Exuma stays in Exuma. Enjoy yourself. Let your hair down. Stop worrying about the future so much and enjoy things as they are.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“That’s because it is. You overthink things. And I know you’ve had to for the last few years. But that’s history. This is your new start. Just be open to things, that’s all I ask.”

The cottage door opens and Linc walks in, his face lighting up into a slow smile when he sees me.

He’s been in a meeting in the business suite. A zoom call with Europe, I think. We’ve spent most of today working. The pitch is almost ready. He made me promise that tomorrow afternoon we will go to the beach to relax for the last time before we give our presentation the following day.

“I gotta go,” I say to Angela. His eyes are still on me. I feel myself start to blush.

“Is he there?”

“Yes. And you’re on speaker.”

Linc’s smile turns into a smirk, because now he knows we were talking about him.

“Goodbye, Ange,” I say, hanging up before she can reply because I have no idea what she’ll say next. All I know is that it’ll almost certainly be embarrassing.

A moment later a message flashes up.

Spoilsport. – Angela

“How was your meeting?” I ask Linc, trying to ride out the embarrassment.

“Not as interesting as your conversation, obviously.”

I shake my head, but I can’t stop the smile from pulling at my lips. “We have two hours before dinner and then the dance party.” Which I still don’t want to go to, by the way. “Do you want to shower first or shall I?”

We arrive at the party just after nine. The Shack is a small wooden bar on the beach, and there are people everywhere, standing at the counter, drinking on the sand, hanging around the DJ who’s set up his decks on a wooden stage to the left of the bar.

We talked nonstop over dinner. He told me stories about growing up with his brothers and then asked me a hundred questions about Zoe. He knew a lot more about Manga than I thought he would. And of course he’s an encyclopedia about the Linebackers, her favorite band.

And then he held my hand as we made our way to the party.

It’s weird, but it feels like we’ve really become friends, and I like it. That’s why I’ve pushed Angela’s words to the back of my mind, never to be thought of again.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend like Linc before. But it has its advantages because he manages to sweet talk his way to the front of the bar within half a minute, and within three he’s carrying two glasses back to the two sun loungers I managed to snag us on the beach.

“There you go,” he passes me a glass, sitting down on the bed beside me, but twisting his body so his feet are on the sand in between the two of them. He clinks his plastic glass against mine. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I say, taking a sip.

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