Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“You win.”
I say it so quietly he doesn’t hear it the first time.
“What?” he asks sadly.
I say it again, enunciating the words slowly, wearily. “You. Win.”
Suddenly, he lets go of me and steps back so he can pull the string for the overhead light, the one I couldn’t reach earlier. A shallow glow penetrates the space enough that, if I turn, he’ll see my tears. Cole’s done a lot of things to me—testing every boundary humanly possible—but he’s never made me cry before today.
I hug myself and stay facing the supply shelves, wishing he would just leave already.
“Is that what you think I want? To upset you like this? Paige.”
“Oh sure, it’s what you want. Gloating rights. The ability to send me packing once and for all. I’m sure you and Todd had a good laugh about it at my expense after I left. I can’t even look at you. You’re just like him.”
His shadow steps closer, and I brace myself, eyes closed, but he doesn’t touch me.
“I’m not firing you, Paige. No one is firing you.”
God, he sounds like he means it with every fiber of his being. I don’t hear any sarcasm, only conviction. But what does it matter? He could stare me right in the eyes and tell me whatever he wants. I won’t believe him; I know he’s a liar.
“The thing with Todd—” he continues.
The fact that he’s going to try to do this, talk me out of hearing what I heard, is enough to reignite my anger. “Please, for the love of god, just go away.”
His phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s something of dire importance, I suppose, because the second he silences it, it starts ringing again.
“This day,” he growls under his breath. “This fucking day.”
I heave a shuddery sigh and realize how close I am to crying harder. I’m balancing on a precipice, trying to keep my composure in front of him. Quiet tears slip down my cheeks, but so far, that’s all. I’d like to keep it that way.
The door to the supply closet opens suddenly. Light from the hall pours in, but I don’t turn around.
“Oh! I’m sorry—” It’s the housekeeper who needed the toilet paper for her cart. She’s back, apparently. “I just . . . I forgot to get some coffee refills a second ago, but I’ll—”
The door slams closed again. I have no doubt Cole gave her a withering look that sent her running for the hills.
“Paige,” he tries again.
But I don’t look at him, and he goes silent. Maybe his lies are all used up. Maybe he realizes that I’m at my limit for today. Evil tendencies aside, even Cole must recognize that at a certain point enough is enough. I’m a dead horse.
His phone rings again, and with a curse, he turns for the door, whips it open, and walks out.
The only thing on anyone’s mind the rest of the afternoon and evening is the hurricane barreling our way—dubbed Hurricane Dominic by the people who get that privilege. Too bad they didn’t name it Cole. A missed opportunity, if you ask me.
While the sky is still sunny and cloudless, the impending drop in atmospheric pressure has already started to make people loopy. I lead a sunset yoga class after more surf lessons, and the guests whisper among themselves the whole time.
“Should we leave?”
“The resort would let us know if it was really that bad, right?”
“I’ve been looking forward to this trip for the last six months. It’s going to take a little more than hurricane winds to get me off this island.”
It’s actually nice that everyone’s so preoccupied. No one pays any attention to my puffy face or bloodshot eyes. I’m nothing but background noise. The fact that my voice breaks every now and then as I lead the guests from one pose to another is completely overlooked.
Even the staff members are in a tizzy. Worry over the storm has surpassed the rumors about the layoffs. Annabelle is old news. Every group I pass in the hall, in the break room, outside on the beach—they’re all speculating on how bad it’s going to get and what Todd’s going to do about it.
I’ve skirted around these conversations easily enough. I’ve kept to myself, skipping lunch in favor of wallowing for thirty minutes alone in my dorm. I almost called in sick the remainder of the afternoon, but I didn’t want to give Cole the satisfaction. Instead, I peeled myself off my bed, avoided looking in any mirrors or shiny objects, and forced myself back out into the ugly world.
As if everything isn’t bad enough, all day I’ve been bracing myself for what to say to Camila and Lara once I bump into them. I know they were counting on me to gather intel from Cole about the layoffs, but I can’t tell them the truth. I can’t. It’s too nasty and gnarly to bring back to the surface. My emotions are so raw, my feelings so hurt, I don’t even think I could get the full story out without crumbling into a sobbing mess.