Page 89 of Raine Out (Grand Slam 2)

Roman’s face relaxes a little bit as he looks at Jimmy. “Thank you, Jimmy. Any more notes come directly to me. You can go back to work now. The rest of you, follow me. We need to talk about this in private.”

“I seriously need food first,” Raine says, looking at the restaurant. “I’m about to pass out.”

Roman grabs a front-desk clerk. “Bring three full breakfasts from the buffet to my office as soon as possible. It’s a rush.”

I grab a banana from the drink table and push Raine behind Roman as he leads us into his office. Two waiters follow quickly with three heaping plates of food and a pot of coffee.

Roman looks at Raine—his face frozen in a scowl. “Who left the notes?”

“We don’t know,” she says, inhaling a few pieces of bacon from her plate. “Some woman who’s been in and out of your resort with a guy. Apparently the guy’s here now. Can we look at your security cameras from the valet area?”

“They’re not functional yet,” Roman growls. “This damn island only has one decent electrician and that’s being generous.”

“Okay, then we need to put a plant at the valet stand for when the guy comes back for his car,” she says, pointing to the keys that Butch is holding.

“I’ll do it.” I grab the keys from Butch. “Just give me a uniform or whatever.”

Butch snatches them back. “You’re too famous. Someone will recognize you. And I’m not going to pass for a porter.”

“No, you will not,” Roman says, doing a quick scan of Butch’s tattoo-filled arms. He nods at Raine. “And Mighty Mouse here couldn’t see over most dashboards, so let’s just have Jimmy do it.”

“Rude,” Raine says, pointing at Roman as she takes a long drink of her coffee. “And Jimmy can’t do it. He’s too hyper.”

“I’ve got the right person,” I say, dialing Ant on my phone. “Hey. Where are you? Well, get your ass out of bed. I need you. Meet me in the office right behind the check-in desk in the lobby. There’s a Cuban flag on the door. Get down here fast or I’m sending you back a day early.”

“Who’d you call?” Raine says, looking up at me.

“My wedding guest. He’s a buddy of mine from Miami. He’s barely twenty-one and he’s as chill as they come. He’ll be perfect.”

There’s a knock on the door. Butch opens it to reveal a very hungover-looking Antonio—wearing only boxer shorts and a T-shirt.

“Good Lord, Ant,” I say, pulling him in the door. “You had time to put on pants and maybe run a brush through your hair.”

“You said you would send me back early if I didn’t get down here quick,” he says. “I don’t want to go back. I love it here so much.”

“Antonio?” Roman says, standing up.

“Oh, hey,” Antonio says, running his hand through his hair. “Mr. Garcia. What are you doing here?”

“This is my resort. I own it,” Roman laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I came with him,” he says, pointing at me.

“How do you two know each other?” I ask, looking at Ant.

“I work for Mr. Garcia in Miami,” he says. “I landscape his hotel and his house. Sophie introduced me to him.”

“Speaking of Sophie,” Roman says, “someone left her an unkind note with one of our porters. We’re trying to figure out who it was. We might need you to go undercover as a valet for a few hours. Do you think you could do that?”

“Sure, I’ll do anything for you, but if it was a hate note, it probably came from Caroline Roa—”

“What?” I look over at him. “Why would Caroline leave Sophie a note?”

“Man, she hates Sophie—like rage hate. She’s always talking smack about her back in Miami.”

“Really?” I say, my face tightening. “Like serious stuff?”

“Not like physical threats or anything,” he says, “but she’s obsessed with Sophie. She’s jealous as hell of Sophie and Seb’s relationship. She talks about how annoying they are all the time to her sister.”

“I believe that,” I say, nodding, “but she’s a lot of talk. I can’t imagine her actually trying to break up their relationship.”

“I can,” Ant says. “She’s always trying to create some drama. And leaving a note is just her style. She’s a big coward underneath all that mouth.”

“Yeah, but the woman who left the note has been seen leaving the resort with a man,” I say, “and it’s not Manny.”

Ant accepts the pancakes that Raine pushes across the table to him. “Maybe it’s the guy she’s having an affair with. I thought I saw him here yesterday.”

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