Page 64 of The VIP Package

Laughing, she turns back to me. “How old is McFly?”

“Approaching twenty-five.” I watch Camille’s face as she quickly does math. “I acquired him as a wedding gift for my late wife.”

“That’s sweet,” she says without missing a beat. “Brigitte named him?”

“Yes.” I wait for the pinch in my chest, but it doesn’t come. It’s calming, in a way, to hear Camille say her name. “He goes back and forth between here and my own private island.”

“He flies?”

“As opposed to taking a water taxi?” I shouldn’t be glib. “I’ve occasionally traveled with him on the yacht.”

“Rough life, bird.” Camille makes kissy noises and McFly does a happy dance across a low branch. “How long do parrots live?”

“This breed can live fifty years or more.” I clear my throat. “Not terribly common as pets. He was intended to spend a lifetime with us.”

I wince at my own careless words. Picturing Brigitte, I don’t think of“us”anymore.

Camille doesn’t seem bothered. “That’s a really romantic gesture.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I considered rehoming him after she passed. It felt wrong to keep him locked in a cage.”

She surveys the grounds and all the lush foliage around us. “He’s got free run of the place now.”

“Yes,” I acknowledge, as McFly flaps his wings. “I researched where Yellow-Billed Parrots come from. Then I bought a small island chain and brought him here. Hired a bird expert to help orient him back to the wild. I built my home and then the resort, and McFly seemed happier here, so this is where he’s stayed.”

Camille stares at me, stone-faced. “Let me get this straight: you felt guilty that the bird you purchased for your wife as a wedding gift might feel lonely or trapped in a cage, so you bought an entire fucking island?—”

“Two islands,” I correct, not sure why that matters.

“Two islands.” Camille shakes her head. “Then moved here and built a home and a sex resort just to give the bird his freedom?”

It sounds absurd when she puts it that way. “A business decision. Did I mention Crystal Bliss is quite profitable?”

“You did.” She rolls her eyes. “You also mentioned that you don’t have feelings.” She shoots a glance at the bird. “Tell that to McFly.”

Hearing his name, McFly squawks again.“Orgasm!”he shouts.

“That’s one of his favorites,” I mutter.

“Can you blame him?”

Footsteps on the path behind us pull our attention back toward the beach. Two muscular consorts saunter our way, each with a backpack slung over his shoulder. The moment they see us, they freeze.

“Mr. Holyfield.” That’s a former Marine named Logan. He’s worked here for several years now. “Nice to see you, sir.”

“Gentlemen.” I turn to Camille, since introductions are in order. “Dr. Camille Plier, meet Logan Wilder and Zane Phillips. Two of the finest consorts employed at Crystal Bliss Retreat.”

She takes a step forward and puts out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” As she shakes Zane’s hand, a smile stretches over her face. “Zane, as in the man who taught McFly an entire glossary of sexual terms?”

He chuckles, scrubbing a hand on his chin. “Guilty, I suppose.” He looks at me. “Didn’t realize you were aware of that, sir.”

“Yes, well.” I clear my throat. “Camille has been a guest of the resort for the past week. She’s been unable to return home, due to the pilots’ strike.”

I watch the men take in that detail. Confusion and surprise play over their faces. Logan’s brow furrows as he puzzles it out. “Sorry if I’m forgetting, sir—were some consorts asked to remain behind for the break?”

Zane looks worried. “I would have stayed if I’d known. I didn’t realize?—”

“No need.” I’m tempted to capture Camille’s hand again, but that feels performative. I settle for shifting closer, brushing her arm with my own. “Camille has been perfectly well cared-for in her time with the Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club.”

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