Page 131 of Falling Overboard

He was already aggravated for several reasons, which included the fact that Bisou had stolen the fish he had put out for dinner, the guests had required gluten-free and paleo food, and the primary guest, Myron, had said to “surprise” him for dinner.

“Surprise me” was basically a code phrase for “make what I normally eat but plate it to look different.” Which meant that Andre was going to have to try to figure it out on his own with no guidance from Myron.

“Lucky, your favorite guest is having a fit,” Thomas called out, observing the monitors.

“What now?” I asked, exasperated. “Is she not having any success luring children into her gingerbread house?”

“Don’t know. She’s melting down so much that some teenager is going to have to warn the United Nations about it.”

“I’d offer to go up and slap some sense into her,” Georgia interjected, “but I don’t want to get gold digger on my hands.”

I couldn’t even encourage her to be nice, especially when I wasn’t being nice myself. Amber had been upset about everything, and she berated me and my staff constantly.

“You’re not going to tell me to behave?” Georgia asked me, clearly surprised.

“How can I? I’m not saying I hate her, but if she was on fire, I’d grab some marshmallows.”

“It would be very bad if she was on fire and somebody had to put her out. Her kind melts when they get wet,” she said with a nod. “That girl is living proof that money can’t buy happiness.”

“Yeah, but I’ll bet it makes misery a lot easier to deal with,” Thomas said, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

With a deep sigh I went up to see what Her Royal Suckiness wanted now.

Amber had pulled linens off the table, sending thousands of dollars’ worth of china and crystal onto the floor. Myron was on his phone, ignoring his girlfriend’s outburst. The other men, whom Georgia referred to as the Ambassadors of Audacity, were across the room, laughing while they watched the scene play out.

Such a mess. I made a wish that Amber would have to walk on a carpet of Legos barefoot for a month. “What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Clean this mess up!” She flounced into the main salon and sat down on one of the couches.

I retrieved a dustpan and brush and began carefully sweeping up broken glass. Brock wandered over, followed by his fellow cretins.

“Lucky, have I ever told you how much I like your uniform?” He leered at me and I was suddenly aware of how short it was. He added, “I’d like it even better on my bedroom floor.”

Ew, ew, ew. I knew that I should say nothing because any verbal interaction might be seen as encouraging this kind of behavior. I continued to clean.

But he kept going. “So are you free tonight or are you going to cost me?”

His buddies laughed at that one and I tried to let their words go in one ear and out the other.

“It looks like you’re really on top of things,” he continued. “Can I be one of the things you’re on top of?”

Brock’s goons laughed again. I glanced over at Myron, wondering if he was going to do something about his employees, but he was glued to his phone.

I wasn’t a psychic, but my guess was that they were going to have a big lawsuit at some point in the future.

“Where’s that sexy Georgia?” one of them asked. “I bet she’ll play with us.”

Had they taken a special seminar on being gross? Brock came closer to me and leaned down, putting his hand on my shoulder. I wanted to tell him to act like his hairline and take a step back.

Hunter walked into the room, looking furious. He glowered from the doorway and it had the effect of making the other men go quiet. Brock immediately moved away from me.

“I’ll be back with the broom,” I said as I stood up. “Everyone please stay clear of this area.”

I took Hunter by the arm and led him out of the room. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked in a sharp tone when we were out of earshot of the guests.

“That guy was touching you.”

“I’m aware. You can’t come in and intimidate the guests. Not when we’re depending on their tip. I can take care of myself.”

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