With one final check of my red lipstick and smoky eyeshadow, I stepped outside and gave the handle a little jiggle, making sure I’d locked the bungalow door properly. The night air was warm and thick with humidity.
Damn, it’s hot. I’d be swimming in sweat before I reached the dinner club.
I tucked my card key into my black satin evening bag and headed down the path, smoothing back a few loose strands from my ponytail.
“Oh, crap. I’m so sorry,” said a male voice from behind me.
I jumped, nearly falling off my heels.
A young blond guy, maybe twenty, wearing the island uniform, jumped out of a golf cart.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I said. “I didn’t even hear you come up.”
“I’m sorry I’m late. It’s my second day, and I got turned around.” He gestured toward the cart. “Please, get in, and I’ll have you to your dinner in two minutes.”
“I didn’t know you provide transportation. No one told me.” They really do think of everything in this stupid place.
“Can’t have you worn out before you get there. You have a big night of fun ahead.”
I slid into the passenger side. “Yeah. Sure. Fun.”
His hands shaking, he released the brake and headed down the dimly lit path, taking a right turn instead of going left toward the water in the direction of the restaurant, spa, beach, and such. I raised my finger, about to correct him, but decided to shut my trap. Let’s see where he takes me. After all, I wanted to explore more of the island.
He stayed on the narrow path that cut behind the reception building and led to a wooden bridge, the narrow one I’d seen earlier on the tour, but we hadn’t crossed. This time we were crossing it, and that was when I knew for sure he wasn’t lost. He had to think I was someone else.
The little cart rumbled across the wooden planks, and he immediately took a sharp right, bringing us up to a big wooden gate. He punched some numbers into the keypad and the gate slid open.
“So sorry. We’re almost there,” he said, his voice frantic.
“No problem. Take your time.” If he wasn’t taking me to my welcome dinner, then this had to be for the VIPs. Rook will definitely be there.
We pulled up to a big white tent with torches next to the flap-covered doorway.
“Here we are,” said the driver. “Just go inside. They’re waiting.”
“Uh…okay.” I slid out and waved as he drove off into the night.
Hearing strange loud music and laughter, I walked toward the tent and peeked inside. “Holy shit.” I snapped my head back, closing the flap. Those aren’t dinner guests. They were naked men. A lot of fucking naked men. All lying around on pillows, drinking from goblets and eating grapes.
“Is that our princess?” A man with dark skin, wide brown eyes, and long black hair, wearing a gold genie-type outfit, stood in the doorway. “We’ve been waiting for you, your highness. Your husbands are restless to feed you and please you with their bodies.”
My jaw fell open. I didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or run. “I’m sorry, but I think—”
“No. No need to apologize, princess.” He took my hand and began pulling me. “I am Ravi, your harem master for the evening. Welcome to the tent of sinful pleasures. Anything you want, you merely need to ask.”
He pulled me inside, where the men—most with long hair and deep brown skin, too—were now lining up. There had to be thirty or forty of them.
“Oh boy,” I muttered, in complete shock. “Tha-that’s a lot of penises. Big penises.” They were all hanging out like salamis in an Italian deli.
The men chuckled, crossing their buffed arms and exchanging proud nods.
“Which one would you like to sample first this evening, princess?” asked Ravi. “They are all new husbands, no repeats from last time.”
So this was for a repeat customer. “I, uh…” I could barely speak. I’d never seen anything remotely like this.
Did Cici come here? I wondered, quickly berating myself. Of course not. She was a loving, kind, one-guy type of woman.
“Does your harem not please you, princess?” Ravi asked.
“Uh, no.” I shook my head, feeling my face flush. “I think there’s been a mistake. I’m looking for the welcome dinner. My name is Stephanie Brenna.”
Ravi’s brown eyes nearly popped from his head. “Uh-oh.” He whipped a small phone from his baggy pants. “Hi, it’s Ravi. I think we’ve been brought the wrong guest.” He pulled the phone from his ear. Clearly, someone was yelling at him. “How would I know? I’ve never met her,” he snapped back.
“Uh, I’ll head back on my own. I know the way.” I stepped outside, eager to escape the awkward penis playground and see what else I’d find on this side of the bridge. Hopefully Rook’s place.
I left behind the tent of grumbling sex toys, unsure if I should be terrified, turned on, or laughing myself to death. Definitely terrified. If I hated being touched, I couldn’t imagine forty of them coming at me.
Halfway to the gate, it popped open and my driver appeared.
“Ms. Brenna! I am so sorry. I didn’t know and then…” He let out a breath and hopped from the cart, helping me inside. “I’ll have you to the welcome dinner in a moment. A thousand apologies for the mix-up,” he said dejectedly.
I was about to say it wasn’t a problem, but then I really couldn’t pass up this opportunity to complain, now could I? Because I wasn’t here to make nice.
“Mr. Rook will hear about this,” I said flatly.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m very sorry, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old.”
“Oh, oh. Sorry, miss. I’m so sorry.” We rolled across the tiny bridge, heading toward the restaurant. “It’s just that I’m new, and Mr. Rook is so…” His voice faded off.
“So what?” I asked.
“He’s very particular. He wants everything perfect, and I’m afraid I haven’t given that to you tonight.”
I started to feel bad. “Is he going to fire you?”
The driver was silent for several moments. “I, uh, don’t want you to worry. You’re here to enjoy your time.” We pulled up to the little walkway leading to the restaurant.
I slid out, wanting to assure him I wouldn’t make a stink, but I had to be hard. I had to think of my sister.
“Thanks for the ride.” I turned and headed inside. “Goodnight.”
Now, to make some noise. But would Rook come to quiet me?
CHAPTER FIVE
“Ms. Brenna, don’t you look lovely tonight,” said Julie, greeting me at the door of the open-air restaurant that sat perched on pillars, over the jewel-colored water. It was dark out now, but I’d seen the dinner club earlier during the tour and it looked like something from a corny theme resort, with lots of leafy plants and vines snaking up the outside of the structure.
And the inside is even worse. This fantasy bullcrap was getting on my last nerve. At the far end of the “room” with the thatched roof was a big stage that had a painted tropical backdrop and small tiki torches blazing to the sides.
Love the Hawaii Five-O decorations. We’re in the Atlantic, you morons. At least, I thought we were. But we definitely weren’t in the Pacific or anywhere near the fiftieth state. Our flight from Newark had only been three hours, and the climate didn’t indicate we’d gone north, east, or west. We’d gone south.
“Thank you,” I replied, running my hands down the sides of my very skimpy backless black dress with matching strappy heels. “You look very nice, too.” She had on the standard blue-and-white blouse with a khaki skirt.
“This old thing?” She shrugged and smiled. “Oh, did you get the fantasy contract I drew up?”
It had arrived via bungalow-man Rick an hour ago but looked to be the size of a phone book. If that phonebook contained the numbers for every man, woman, and child in the United States.
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll read it after dinner, but I think it’s
going to take a few hours.”
“Well, any questions, I’m here for you. The hour doesn’t matter.”
“Actually, I have a question now. Are you aware that I was taken to someone else’s fantasy?”
“Oh, yes, I heard about it right before you arrived. That must’ve been some surprise.”
“A surprise? Is that what you call forty naked men with their cocks hanging out, all lined up to fuck me?”
Julie snickered. “I’m sure that was…” Her eyes registered that I was not smiling along with her. “Oh, you’re serious. I’m so sorry, Ms. Brenna. I didn’t know you were upset about it. Most of our guests would love to spy on someone else’s fantasy. The husband harem is also one of our most popular themes. It’s why we start on welcome night—the tent is booked solid every week.”
“Well, I thought it was completely offensive and vile,” I lied. Really, it was just weird to think any woman would want that many men taking turns on her, but I’d been more shocked than offended. This entire place was…bizarre.
Why did Cici even want to come here? She had a great life, and everyone adored her. Wasn’t that enough?
“Again, my apologies,” Julie said. “Hopefully, tonight will more than make up for the error. She turned and stuck her hand in the air, waving at a pack of men toward the back of the restaurant.
“Are those the fantasy guides?” I’d never seen so many handsome men—black, Asian, Latino, and even a few gingers, all wearing tuxes. In my book, this was far better than the orgy tent. I liked men who dressed well and carried themselves a certain way.
“Heavens, no,” said Julie. “These gentlemen are all staff members—personal concierges, bungalow managers, scuba instructors, trainers, and the like. We wouldn’t want to risk ruining anyone’s fantasy by having them see their guides outside of their worlds.”
As she spoke, a tall man with tanned skin and hazel eyes, who looked to be in his forties, sauntered over, bearing a charming smile. On a scale of one to ten, he was a chisel-jawed eleven.
My tongue must’ve been hanging out of my mouth because Julie leaned in and whispered, “Luke is your date for tonight, and he loves taking charge. Just the way you like it.” There was a hint of pride in Julie’s tone. I almost hated that I would have to sabotage her efforts to please me, but I had to do what I had to do. The clock was ticking, and I’d already wasted enough time tonight.
I raised a brow. “Uh, Julie?” I said in my snottiest tone. “Exactly why do I need a date?”
She froze, and her brown eyes went all deer in headlights on me. “Oh, umm. It’s customary that we have dinner dates and dance partners for our guests tonight, but I’m happy to cancel that.” She turned toward my assigned Mr. Perfect. “Luke, so sorry, but Ms. Brenna would like to dine alone tonight.”
Like a well-trained pet, Luke didn’t bat an eyelash. He simply bowed his head. “I hope you enjoy your dinner and the show.”
“Thanks.” I turned to Julie, preparing to throw another curveball. “I didn’t actually say I wanted to dine alone. I simply asked why I need a date.”
Thinking that she’d prematurely dismissed Luke, she raised her hand to call him back.
“No. Wait. That’s not what I meant, Julie.” I placed my bitch hat firmly on my head. “Your eagerness is getting a little annoying. Why don’t you let me finish my sentence and tell you what I want? I do have a mouth and brain for a reason.” I rolled my eyes.
Julie blinked rapidly. “Ye-yes. Of course, Ms. Brenna.”
I felt so bad. She seemed like a genuinely nice person. Still, I had to push my sympathy aside for Cici’s sake.
“Great,” I said, readjusting my evening bag under my arm so it wouldn’t slip from my sweaty hands. “Jesus, what’s with the lack of AC around here? It’s barbaric.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s simply that most of the clientele don’t enjoy feeling like they’re cooped up inside a refrigerator. They like the warm tropic air—it’s the true island experience.”
“Well, it truly sucks. I’m fucking hot. Oh, and by the way, speaking of hot, I want to dine with Mr. Rook tonight.”
Her eyes shifted and her tanned face turned a shade paler. “Mr. Rook?”
“Yes. And before you tell me that he’s not here or that he’s busy, I already know that he always comes to the welcome dinner.”
Her mouth flapped for a moment. “Well—well, yes, he does usually show up, but Mr. Rook doesn’t—”
“Doesn’t what? Own this resort or care about his guests’ needs? Or are you afraid I’ll tell him about tonight’s little mistake?”
“Not at all, Ms. Brenna. I’m sure he already knows, but—”
“But what?”
She leaned in to whisper, “He’s not on the menu.”
I nodded slowly, ready to raise the stakes in my game of disgruntled guest. I had to do this, no matter how uncomfortable.
I lifted a brow. “Oh, I see. You think I want to fuck him. Well, I don’t. And how dare you insinuate that I’m that sort of woman. I just want to meet the man since his looks are legendary. What woman wouldn’t want to sample that eye candy during her stay?” According to the lady on the plane, Meg, Rook was extremely good looking. Meg certainly hoped to get a piece of him, which made me think of another phony complaint. “I’ll also point out that no one told me he’d be off-limits, so I feel that I’ve been ripped off. Even though I don’t want to fuck him. However, if I did, it would be like you’re charging someone to go to a Justin Bieber concert and then once they arrive to the show, you tell them that they’ll only be seeing cover bands. No Justin. That’s called fraud, Julie. And frankly, given that someone very close to me is a well-known journalist, I think the world would like to know that you’re swindling nice women out of their money.” I leaned in. “I paid for Justin. I want Justin. Got it?”
Her face contorted. “You want me to get Justin Bieber to the island?”
I blew out a breath, doubling down on crazy bitchiness and reminding myself that wasn’t me. I would never be so cruel.
“Julie, honey,” I smiled like a hungry lion about to tear into some flesh, “I get that you’re likely working here because even the third-class cruise ships rejected you, but try acting like you have a brain and we’ll get along just fine. I want to meet Mr. Rook, not some fucking teen idol.” I huffed for good measure. “Give me a fucking break.”
Julie’s face turned piping hot, lobster red. “Yes, Ms. Brenna. I will certainly do what I can.”
“I hope so, or I’ll tell everyone what a load of crap this place is.” For the record, I knew that I’d signed their little nondisclosure agreement. But they likely knew, as did I due to my background in international relations, which included some trade law, that a contract of this sort meant nothing if you weren’t able to enforce it. A place like this, operating under the radar, wouldn’t want to come out of the shadows simply to face me in a breach lawsuit, so my chips were firmly placed on Mr. Rook liking things to stay the way they were: quiet.
But don’t forget who you’re messing with, Stephanie. This man had the power not only to make his island disappear, but my sister as well.
Julie dipped her brunette head. “I promise I will do everything in my power to have Mr. Rook meet you, but please understand, he’s the boss. I can’t make him do anything.” Her tone was a plea for leniency.
Well, she’s not getting any.
“Ask me if I care.” I smiled. “Now where’s my table? I’m hungry.”
“Uh-uh, ye-yes,” she stuttered. “Right this way.”
I followed her to a small table directly in front of the stage.
“Excuse me,” I said, “but I’m not sitting here.” I eyed the little card with my name on it. “I want to sit in the back where it’s dark.”
Julie nervously nodded. “It would be my pleasure to move you, Ms. Brenna.” She snatched the name card from the table.
“And throw that fucking thing away. No one needs to know my name,” I g
riped.
Julie’s tightly puckered pink lips told me that I’d pushed her last button.
“As you like.” She slid the card into her pocket and turned toward the back of the room, leading me to a quiet table for one.
“Is this to your satisfaction?” she asked, her voice tight, her smile tighter.
“It’s great. Thanks.” I plopped down into my seat, acting like a bratty toddler who’d missed snack time.
“Your waiter will be Joe tonight, but if you need anything at all—”
“Just call. Yeah, I got that, Julie,” I snapped.
“Enjoy your meal.” She dipped her head and walked away.
I drew a slow breath to gather myself while my eyes turned toward the other guests arriving or milling about the room, talking. I didn’t see Meg or Emily—the two women from the plane—but I suspected I’d hear Meg before I saw her.
“Hello, I am Joe, your dedicated server this evening, Ms. Brenna. May I bring you the wine menu or get you a cocktail?”
I looked up at Joe, who was…yep, another hot man with blond hair, excess bulk in his biceps, and two powerful legs holding up his big body. Part of me truly wished this island wasn’t what I thought—a shithole that condoned murdering innocent women—because it wouldn’t be half bad having beautiful men waiting on you hand and foot all week long.
“I’ll take…” I paused, giving thought to the kind of liquor that might aid me in tonight’s horribly uncomfortable mission. “Can you bring me some lime wedges, salt, and a bottle of your best tequila. I like the aged stuff, if that helps.” For the record, I never drank tequila. Never. But a fruity cocktail wasn’t going to cut it tonight.
Joe blinked his blue eyes at me. “Errr… the entire bottle, ma’am?”
Mr. Rook Page 4