Page 83 of Troubles in Paradise
“My first trimester was like that,” Ayers says. “But every week since then, I’ve felt healthier and stronger.”
“Baker says you’re staying in your place after the baby is born.”
“I am,” Ayers says. “Baker will be nearby. My parents too. But yeah, I want to live on my own for a while longer.” She leans in. “You had a baby by yourself, didn’t you?”
“Allby myself,” Ellen says. “Sperm donor.”
“It wasn’t Baker, was it?” Ayers asks.
Ellen hoots. “No! Ahhh, that would have made this a very awkward conversation.”
“He’s a good father,” Ayers says.
“He’s a good person,” Ellen says. As she squints at the surreal view of the water and the green islands beyond, her vision blurs. Sunscreen in her eyes, maybe. “That’s why we all came down here. I mean, yeah, we wanted a Caribbean vacation away from our kids”—she laughs—“but we came to see Baker. He was our best friend at home. He was always helping us out, and not in a douchey, mansplaining way; in a genuine, caring way. He would clean our gutters, change the oil in our cars, bring us homemade lasagnas when we were having a tough week. He went with us to the Houston Ballet every year to seeThe Nutcracker.He took our kids to the park when the four of us wanted to go to yoga together; he gave us solid investment advice; he came to pick us up when we were out on a bad blind date; he gossiped with us, sent us songs he thought we would like, asked us for advice when he was having trouble in his own marriage. He listened. He was there. All together, the four of us have dated—and married—a lot of guys, and we’ve all agreed that each of us is looking for her own Baker Steele. He’s the gold standard.” She swallows. “Diamond. Platinum. What I’m trying to get at is, you have a treasure. And what I’m also trying to say is, please don’t hurt him.” Ellen closes her mouth before she can add,Or we’ll come back down here and haunt you.
Ayers puts her hand on top of Ellen’s. “I won’t,” she says. “And thank you for telling me all that, but I assure you, I know what I have. I know how lucky I am.”
Ellen studies Ayers for a second.Do I believe her?
Yes.
“Good,” Ellen says. “Now, please dish on the St. John school wives.”
WhenTreasure Islandpulls into Cruz Bay at the end of the day, Ellen is happy, satisfied, and drunk. She’s so drunk that when they get back to Caneel Bay, it takes her a minute to make sense of the paper that has been slipped under her door. The words are blurry. Maybe it’s not the rum; maybe she needs reading glasses.
“What does this say?” Ellen asks, handing the paper to Debbie.
“They’re evacuating the hotel tomorrow,” Debbie says. “There’s a hurricane coming.”
Tilda
La Tapa closes at the end of August, which seems like a natural time for Tilda to give her notice. Her future is on Lovango.
She thinks maybe the staff will plan a party or an outing for drinks on her last night—this is what normally happens when someone moves on—but when Tilda finishes her last shift, no celebration is mentioned, so she hands in her uniform, hugs Chef, and leaves.
It’s not that the staff members don’t likeher;it’s that they don’t like Dunk. He’s developed the (admittedly, obnoxious) habit of waiting for Tilda across the street by the Tap and Still, vaping and glaring at the restaurant in a menacing way. Clover, the hostess, said she felt threatened; Skip wanted to punch his lights out. Ayers seemed indifferent, though Tilda knows that Ayers dislikes Dunk on principle because of Cash. Chef invited Dunk in for dinner but Dunk turned her down because Dunk doesn’t eat. He has espresso in the morning, fruit juice at lunch, and either vegetable juice or broth at dinner. He drinks wine and Maker’s Mark. Tilda isn’t sure how he’s still alive. There isn’t an ounce of fat on his body; he’s as lean and supple as a lizard.
If Tilda were being honest with herself, she would admit that Dunk’s fasting bothers her. First of all, it’s embarrassing that he can’t socialize over meals the way other people do. No wonder he’s essentially without friends and living like a hermit in the East End. Second, he makes Tilda feel bad when she eats. He stares at her with thinly veiled disgust when she bites into the Uncle Peep turkey sandwich from Sam and Jack’s or when she asks him to stop at Scoops so she can get a cup of their salted peanut butter ice cream. Tilda is naturally slender, so she can eat whatever she wants and not gain an ounce, but Dunk makes her feel gluttonous and weak.
Tilda thinks back on her brief time with Cash, remembering how excellent it was to have someone to eat with. She and Cash planned every meal like it was their last whether they were cooking at home or eating out. It was sensual, Tilda thinks. Sexy.
Dunk’s fasting isn’t the only thing that’s chafing at Tilda. There are also the accusations from Swan Seeley. Swan claims Dunk insulted her and touched her inappropriately during their marketing meeting, a meeting Tilda was supposed to attend until Dunk announced that he’d forgotten Olive’s lunch at home, which was all the way back in Hansen Bay. Unlike Dunk, Olive ate like royalty—prime rib, lamb chops, chicken Kiev. It was twisted. Dunk asked Tilda if she would take the skiff back to Cruz Bay and buy two pounds of ground beef at Starfish Market for Olive. Tilda agreed even though by all rights it should have been Tilda meeting with Swan while Dunk ran the stupid errand. This was Tilda’s resort—well, okay, her parents’ resort. Dunk owned the land, and he and Granger and Lauren had come to some kind of agreement about a partnership, but Tilda didn’t think that meant Dunk’s presence was more important than her own at a marketing meeting. Still, she went to the market because she had a difficult time saying no to Dunk. And that’s when the thing with Swan either happened or didn’t. According to Swan, Dunk had said he’d hired her because she was “hot,” “a dime” (Tilda abhors both of these terms), and then he’d touched Swan’s back, massaged her shoulders, and brushed up against her behind.
Tilda had shocked herself by coming to Dunk’s defense even though she knew that massaging a woman’s shoulders and brushing up against her behind were two of Dunk’s signature moves. He’d used both of these moves on Tilda! Tilda is a firm believer in the #MeToo movement;she always,alwaysbelieves the woman—except, apparently, when the perpetrator is her own boyfriend. She was stunned by Swan’s accusations—and hurt, too, of course. Why would Dunk go after Swan when he had Tilda? After Swan was safely on the skiff heading back to Cruz Bay, Tilda marched into the trailer and said, “What just happened with Swan, Dunk?”
Dunk had been poring over the designs for the T-shirts. He didn’t even look up. “I was giving her a pat on the back, a good-on-ya, and she spit the dummy.”
“Spit the dummy” was something Dunk said all the time; it had something to do with a baby losing his pacifier. “So you weren’t inappropriate?” Tilda said.
Dunk inhaled on his vape pen—that thing drove Tilda crazy—and on the exhale said, “I was trying to give the woman a bloodycompliment.” Then he held his arms open. “Come here, mate.” And like a fool, she went.
Swan e-mailed Granger and Lauren to tell them she didn’t feel comfortable working with Duncan or Tilda. She wanted to be paid for the time she’d spent on it so far, and thanks for the opportunity, but she was leaving the project. Tilda’s parents had called from their business trip in Cape Town to ask for a full explanation, and when Tilda told them what had purportedly happened, they were livid. Especially Lauren. She said, “I’m calling Swan now to get her back. Your father will have a chat with Dunk. Is he trying to get us hit with a lawsuit?”
Lauren did persuade Swan to come back, but Swan said she would report to Lauren only. Not Dunk. And not Tilda.
Where do things stand with the Lovango resort? Well, that’s the good news: Everything is moving swiftly and smoothly along with an anticipated opening date of April 1, right before Easter. The desalinization plant is nearly finished; the pool has been dug; the foundations of the cottages are in; the beach has been cleared. All the permitting is in place, and Granger and Lauren are in the process of buying boats that will transport guests from both Red Hook in St. Thomas and Cruz Bay in St. John to the resort. The restaurant is framed out, and only the week before, the granite was delivered for the bar. Lauren and Tilda FaceTime every day to discuss the design details—light fixtures, fabrics, paint colors. They both loved Swan’s ideas for merchandise.
The Lovango Resort and Beach Club. It’s going to be real. Tilda almost can’t believe it.
