Page 33 of Troubles in Paradise
Say no!Cash thinks.
“Sure,” Tilda says.
The drive home is tense. Cash isn’t sure what to say. He and Tilda have been together a couple of weeks. They haven’t saidI love you;they aren’t even close to that. They’re still in the gaga-infatuation stage, which was, admittedly, rushed along a bit by Cash’s circumstances. But he likes Tilda. A lot. They’re exclusive. They’reliving together.So what will happen while Tilda’s gone? Is Cash going to just stay in her villa as she’s gallivanting around the Caribbean with another guy?
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” Tilda says, which is rather ingenious of her because Cash is not feeling cool at all. “If it puts your mind at ease, I’m not attracted to Dunk—like, not even a little bit. He’s too intense.”
Intense. She’s making this sound like a flaw, but is it?
“Whoishe?” Cash asks. “How does he have the money to buy anisland?He’s my age. Do his parents have jack?”
“He hasn’t mentioned parents,” Tilda says. “He was born in Australia, moved to the States when he was twelve…”
“Twelve?” Cash says. “Wow, he really milks that accent.”
“I believe accents develop when you learn to talk,” Tilda says. “Why are you being ungenerous?”
“I’m not,” Cash says, though he is.
“Dunk is self-made, he’s built and sold a couple of companies, and now he does real estate down here. He has a palatial home out in the East End. It’s bigger than my parents’ place—six buildings, including a pool house, two guesthouses, a gym, a theater, the whole enchilada. But as far as I know, it’s just him and Olive.”
“So he’s single?” Cash says. “No girlfriend? Aren’t guys like him required to run around with the supermodels from Fyre Festival?”
Tilda doesn’t laugh.
“Is he…gay?” Cash asks. If Dunk is gay, Cash can relax. Somewhat.
“No idea,” Tilda says. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in him. I’m interested in you.”
Cash finds little comfort in these words. It sounds like Tilda has been to the villa in the East End. When did that happen and why didn’t she tell him? And how to explain the makeup and sexy outfit? She didn’t get all dolled up for her parents.
“Did you notice he didn’t eat his dinner?” Cash says. “Not one bite. He asked Jena all those questions and then he didn’t even touch it. He told me he was taking it home for his dog. That short rib cost forty-five bucks. Who does that?” Out of all the uncomfortable moments at dinner, the worst was when Jena dropped off the check and Dunk and Granger fought over it. It felt like a test of manhood, one that Cash couldn’t even pretend to compete in. He’d just looked on with Tilda and Lauren while Dunk and Granger threw down their credit cards, which were radioactively glowing with money.
“He fasts,” Tilda says. “I mean, he drinks, obviously, but he goes for days at a time without solid food.”
“What?” Cash says. He thinks about living in the East End, which is within shouting distance of Lime Out, and denying himself the pleasure of a rum rib taco.
“It’s a willpower thing.”
“He sounds like a sociopath,” Cash says. “Be careful while you’re away, please.”
“I’ll text and call and we’ll FaceTime every morning and every night, and when I get back, we’ll skinny-dip at Hawksnest and go to the pig roast at Miss Lucy’s and get drunk one night at Skinny Legs and do all the things we haven’t done as a couple yet.”
“I’ll miss you,” Cash says. Tilda is a beacon for him, and a buoy. They have gotten so close so fast, he can’t imagine a week without her.
“Awww,” she says. “You’re sweet.”
Cash perks up a little. “The project sounds amazing. I’m honored your parents are including me.”
“They would do anything to make me happy,” Tilda says.
Cash doesn’t love the implication of this statement—that Cash’s involvement on Lovango is due solely to his relationship with Tilda. If Tilda comes home from St. Lisa or St. Roger and announces that she’s fallen in love with Dunk, Cash will be heartbroken, but will he be out of luck on the project as well?
Yes. If the whole mess with Cash’s father has done nothing else, it has prepared him for the worst.
Baker
Every now and then, when Baker is sitting by the pool at the Westin watching Floyd play with Aidan/Nicholas/Parker/Dylan/Maddie/Eli—it’s a revolving cast of best friends for the day when you live at a hotel—he wonders if things are really as bad as they seem. The room—garden-facing with two queen beds and a balcony that is off-limits to Floyd—is five hundred bucks plus tax plus resort fee plus service charge, which is obviously a lot. But if Baker can ignore his mounting bill, he’s able to appreciate the fine weather and all the amenities on offer—the pool, an excellent gym, daily housekeeping, the playground, kayaks and paddleboards, a private beach featuring a water trampoline, and a plethora of organized kid-centric activities, like movie nights and ice cream socials. Temporarily, anyway, Baker and Floyd are living the life.
