Page 40 of Nothing to Do

“We… we do?”

“Mm hmm,” the woman said, sunglasses and floppy hat topping off her dazzling smile, twinkling even in the shade. “And they’re not here. Come on. Come. Come.”

The stranger spun on the spot, not rushed, just determined as she shook her hair down her back, disappearing inside.

Okay, had she been expected? Who was the woman and where was Zane? Surely if this was his girlfriend…

The only way to find out was to go inside and do what the woman said.

A sweet smell enticed her to traverse the portico and cross the threshold. Light. The whole place was filled with light. Glass panels far above the double, maybe triple, height space, embraced the sky. Stairs curved on either side up to a second-floor balcony. Incredible.

“This way!” the woman up ahead declared, descending a few stairs.

Still dazed, she hurried after the hostess and stopped on the huge semi-circular terrace jutting out from the building behind, just like she thought, the view was…

“Wow.”

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” the woman asked, seating herself on a double-wide lounger, curling her legs up at her side while pouring from her pitcher into two fruit rimmed glasses. “I thought our island was amazing but this…” The woman put down the pitcher and picked up the two glasses to hold one out to her. “It’s a step beyond, right?” Her smile spread. “Dyce didn’t say you were twitchy. Come sit down, I don’t bite… not youanyway. My beau would get jealous. Though for the show alone, he might buy me another ruby.”

Still sort of staggered, she went to take the glass. Be polite, courteous, listen, smile… What the hell was going on? Maybe this was where she should explain herself, yeah, this would be the time for that, but—fuck, what was that on her hand? A ring?

“Tha—wow—”

“Right?” the woman said, waggling her fingers to show off the huge ruby, then turning her hand to admire it herself. “A sign of wealth to some, passion to others.” She sucked in a breath and gestured at the lounger parallel to hers. “Come and sit down, Thea.”

After a few stuttering steps, she sat. “You know my name?”

“Of course I do,” the stranger said, blowing something from the back of her hand. “Dyce never shuts up about you.”

“I—he doesn’t?”

“No,” the hostess said, extending her legs as she rested against the back of the lounger. “Okay, so that’s not strictly true—I never shut up about you. Dyce is all, ‘don’t harass her,’ ‘leave her alone,’ blah, blah, blah. It’s my duty to know my girls, what’s so difficult to understand about that? How will we take over the world if we’re not tight? He doesn’t get it. He’s a man. Some might say your guy’s the most intelligent in our group…” The stranger angled a little toward her to whisper from the corner of her lips. “Maybe the second most intelligent, but we don’t tell Rourke that.” She corrected her posture. “Yet, somehow, he doesn’t get that women aren’t wired like men. Our men think they run the world, but what would they be without us?”

And she was… none the wiser.

“I’m sorry, I…” Was it guilt or embarrassment quaking and spiking her gut? She didn’t get it. Something was happening, clearly, this woman got it, but they weren’t on the same page.Were they even following the same book? “I don’t know who you are.”

The woman’s head swiveled ninety degrees, then tilted with a little attitude. Oh, God, had she insulted the hostess? Getting kicked out would be one thing, maybe the best possible outcome she could expect.

Could be she’d breathed out too soon, the end of the island was right there, how easy would it be for the stranger to give her a swift kick and say sayonara? In that eventuality, she’d probably never see Zane again. Ha, idiot, the guy? Her first thought was the guy? That would be the least of her worries.

The last thing she expected was for the woman to laugh out loud. Bold and proud, that laugh wasn’t offended at all.

“Oh my God, I love you,” the beauty said, putting down her glass. She swung around to set her heels on the stone and extend a straight arm. “Roxanna Kyst-Lomond…” She hummed. “I’m trying it out, what do you think?”

“Think of…?”

She shook the woman’s hand, still off-balance. Maybe it was a good thing Mrs. Kyst-Lomond didn’t let go.

“The hyphenate.”

“Oh. It’s… nice.”

“Roxanna Lomond sounds kind of weird, doesn’t it? Boring. Maybe I’m just not used to it. But if everywhere I go people call me Mrs. Kyst-Lomond, it sounds like an accusation. Like we’re back in high school. Yeah, I kissed him, a bunch of times and in a bunch of places, most of which you can’t see… when he’s clothed. Which he rarely is when we’re alone… Okay, so that part’s not high school, we’re talking triple-X there.”

“I don’t…”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause it sounds like I define myself by him. Like the only thing people will know me for is who I make outwith at bedtime.” The woman, Mrs. Kyst-Lomond’s, smile grew to a grin. “You’re absolutely none the wiser, are you?”

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