Gaia couldn't seem to catch her breath to speak, so she shook her head, fighting to form words. "C-c-crocodile. I saw it. Huge. In the water." She couldn't stop shaking.
"Okayyyy. I'm going to get the first aid kit, so we can get you cleaned up a bit." Shou cracked open the helicopter door and spread a towel on the floor. "You just sit here on this towel, and I'll take care of you."
She did as she was bid, too exhausted to do much else. Even the disinfectant didn't sting that much, she was so out of it.
"Drink this," the pilot ordered, pushing a cup into her band-aided hand.
Obediently, Gaia emptied the cup, feeling the burn of bubbles as the liquid cascaded down her throat. The cup fell from her fingers, but somehow it came back, full again, so she drank some more. Didn't matter what, as long as she was in the safety of the helicopter. Where crocodiles couldn't reach her.
"Put this on."
Darkness engulfed Gaia until the pilot pulled the t-shirt over her head fully. She slipped numb fingers through the sleeves and pulled the hem down. It was a cheap souvenir shirt from Broome, big enough to fit two of her, and bearing an eye-wateringly bright image of a bloke on a beach with a beer in hand. She wouldn't be seen dead in it at home, but now it took away the chill she couldn't seem to shake.
When it looked like the pilot was finished with her – or he'd run out of band-aids, she wasn't sure – Gaia crawled onto the seat furthest from the door and curled up. She wasn't getting out of the helicopter until they reached civilisation, or at least the resort.
THIRTY-NINE
Jay's jubilant voice pierced Gaia's black mood. "Pencil it in, mate – I want a regular charter out here, once a week, for as long as I'm living at the resort. Can't believe I haven't been out here before."
The pilot replied, his voice too low for Gaia to discern the words.
She stretched, cautiously putting her feet down so she could slide closer to the door to hear their conversation.
"A crocodile? Fuck, yeah, there was! I didn't see it when she started screaming, so I stayed to swim for a while, but when I was done, I saw it. It was basking on the river bank, fast asleep. I thought it was a log at first, until I realised it had a tail." Jay laughed. "Dunno what she was so afraid of, though. It was only little. Maybe two metres from nose to tail. It probably would've weighed less than her, too. I could've taken it, easy."
Gaia didn't want to hear any more, but the pilot's voice intruded anyway.
"You better not try it. The police will arrest you for croc wrestling, because it gives the tourists ideas. There used to be a wildlife park in town with some real big crocodiles, but some idiot got drunk at Diver's Tavern one night and decided to get friendly with the biggest one in the park. Climbed the fence, jumped into the croc's pond and he was lucky to make it out alive when the caretaker heard the ruckus. They moved the park to Ten Mile after that. Now there's just the remains of the enclosures behind Zookeeper's in Cable Beach, and the same grumpy caretaker to keep trespassing tourists out."
Jay laughed so hard he doubled over, slapping his thigh.
The sound sent a jolt through to Gaia's core, waking her up.
"Sounds like something I'd do sober, and then get drunk afterwards. Speaking of which, you got any more beer in the esky? I wouldn't mind one as part of the inflight catering on the way back."
Gaia retreated to her corner as Jay cracked open the door. He glanced at her, before ignoring her completely as he rooted around in the cooler box behind the seat. He ducked out with his can of beer, then climbed into the co-pilot's seat. As far away from her as possible, like she had some sort of disease to be avoided at all costs. Cowardice wasn't contagious. Just...embarrassing.
When the pilot joined them, Jay jerked his head in Gaia's direction without looking at her. "Thanks for handling all the first aid and stuff. It's not really my thing."
Gaia's rock-bottom mood sank to subterranean depths. So much for sex later – Jay didn't want to touch her now.
"No worries," the pilot replied, slipping on his headset.
Jay did the same, but Gaia didn't bother with hers. She didn't want to hear anything they had to say, and she hoped the roar of the rotors would drown out her own thoughts. For the first time in her life, she wanted to drown her sorrows in a bottle. As soon as she reached civilisation.
A familiar beep roused her from her doze. That sound signified an email, her foggy mind told her, and that meant they were within range of a phone tower. As if to prove her point, the helicopter tilted sideways and Gaia caught a glimpse of buildings nestled between palm trees before all she could see was the aqua blue of the lagoon. The resort. Thank goodness.
She tapped her phone screen, hoping the email would provide a welcome distraction until her feet touched solid ground again.
Her hopes were dashed when she saw it was an urgent message from Stewart about Lorikeet Island.
Gaia was tempted to ignore it, but twenty-five years of her mother's mantra – business always comes first – squelched that idea before it had fully formed.
Sighing, she opened the email. The text was brief: he needed her written approval for mass layoffs at the mine. Every day she delayed, they'd be paying for workers they no longer needed for a closed mine.
No. Closing the mine meant losing the island.
Tears blurred her vision until she couldn't see the message from Stewart any more.
No. She couldn't cry. She hadn't shed a tear at her mother's funeral. She couldn't...
...couldn't take it any more. She was too spent after the day to do anything to stop the tears from cascading down her cheeks, a poor imitation of the falls today. And just like the falls, they kept on flowing.
"What's wrong, baby?" Jay sounded worried.
"I don't want to lose my island," she whispered. "Grandfather and Mother will never forgive me."
Jay snorted. "Baby, last time I checked, they were both too dead to care what you do with your island."
His insensitive statement was enough to push her into action. "Leave me alone," Gaia ordered, shoving the door open so she could make her escape. Her stiff muscles protested after sitting so long, but she was determined to make it to her villa before anyone else could see her cry.
Jay and the pilot were bad enough. After all, she wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for Jay. If he'd just sign the contract and hand over the resort, instead of being such a stubborn jackass...
Gaia gave an almighty sniff, lifting her head high, before marching back to the privacy of Villa Maxima.
FORTY
Xan had to dial Jay's number twice, she was so excited. This was by far the biggest deal she'd ever brokered, and it was an impressive coup even for Romance Island Resort. Her dream of organised day trips to the island would become a reality in a matter of weeks. She'd already floated the idea past the high-end resorts in Broome at Cable Beach and Roebuck Bay, and they'd been interested in offering the tours to their guests. She'd met the cruise ship operators at the travel fair, and they'd jumped at the idea, but the ships docked for less than a dozen days a year, so even if they booked out their tours on those days, it would hardly make a dent.
But having resident mine crew next door, looking to do something on their days off, but with the money to be able to afford a boat charter...Xan suppressed a squeal of delight. The resort would have a record profit this high season. All because of her.
When Jay answered his phone, she sang out, "It's done! Signed, sealed and delivered! We have a deal with Vasse Prospecting that'll cut the day trip costs in half while bringing us hundreds of new customers during rebuilding and when the mine's operational again!" Xan wanted to dance.
"So that's good news, then?" Jay asked.
"Sure is! Oh, and I ordered some new sunbeds. The new ones at the Mangrove Hotel were a big hit with guests, so I got the name of their supplier and they should already be on the way up by road train, arriving tomorrow. Can you check to make sure they're installed as soon as they arrive?
There's one for each villa, plus a few more for the new decking outside the Jungle."
"Mm-hmm." Jay didn't sound all that excited. Well, he hadn't seen them yet. Once he had, she probably wouldn't be able to get him off them.
"Sorry, am I keeping you from your latest conquest?" she snapped.
"Nah, just distracted, is all. If the news is so good, why was Gaia so upset today? She received a message on her phone and looked like someone had died. Is there anyone in her family left?"
"No, she's the last surviving Vasse, thank goodness. Maybe she broke a nail." Xan shook her head. "Who knows? Or maybe she saw the news about her in the gossip magazines. I don't read those things, so I don't know what they said, just that she's on the cover of all of them this week. Not my problem, anyway. I'm off to grab a celebratory drink. To Romance Island Resort's rosy future!"
Jay laughed. "Yeah, I might go up to the pub and do the same. Good work. Thanks, Xan."
FORTY-ONE
The bottle of white wine in her fridge was empty far too quickly, and it didn't dull her feelings fast enough. Not enough alcohol, she was certain of it. If Gaia had been a bourbon drinker, or if she'd liked any spirits, she'd have ordered a bottle to be delivered direct to her villa. Room service must have something appropriate for getting drunk, she grumbled to herself as she picked up the phone.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't have any cocktails on the room service menu," the waiter on the other end said once she'd explained what she wanted. "What with the heat and the distance from the bar to your villa, they don't travel well. If you give me a list of your preferred cocktails, I can send a bartender over with the ingredients and he can make those for you in the privacy of your villa."
"Do that then," Gaia snapped.
"The earliest I can get an extra bartender to the island is next week, ma'am. It being the wet season and all, we only have the one barman and he's stuck in the Jungle all week."
"Then send someone to pick him up." Why did things have to be so hard?
The waiter laughed, which turned quickly into a cough. "Lots of people try, ma'am, but I understand Marcel's happily married. If you want cocktails tonight, your best bet is to head up to the hotel and see the Jungle for yourself. That's the hotel bar, ma'am."
Getting drunk in a public bar. Morrigan would turn over in her grave at the thought of her daughter doing something so disgraceful. But Mother would disapprove even more when Gaia lost Lorikeet Island. What was one night in a bar?
Gaia glanced down at her clothes. She'd changed out of the hideous t-shirt, and the ripped, stained clothes she'd worn underneath were in the rubbish, where they belonged. She looked presentable enough in her current outfit – more items from that resort collection she'd never had an excuse to wear until now. Her tears had long since dried and ice had taken care of the tell-tale puffiness that would proclaim to the world that Gaia Vasse had been crying. No one deserved to know her feelings. When she entered the bar tonight, her frigid façade would be unbreachable.
She strapped on her sandals and sallied forth into the night, relishing the way the humidity caressed her skin. Had it always done that, or was it just something in the air tonight?
Gaia was surprised to find the hotel bar almost empty. A couple sat at a corner table, completely engrossed in one another, and the only other person she could see was the cheery bartender. She wove between the potted palms until she found a table that was surrounded by enough jungle to hide her from the other bar patrons. Sinking into the cane chair, she almost jumped right back out again when she discovered the bartender right next to her.
He didn't look the slightest bit fazed. "What can I get you?"
"The cocktail menu."
He reached across the table and laid a laminated card in front of her. "There you are. Which one would you like?"
No one in the whole damn Kimberley understood her. "All of them. The whole menu."
He laughed like he thought she was joking.
She wasn't.
His laughter died, but a professional smile remained. "Any particular order, or a favourite you want to start with?"
Gaia stared unseeingly at the menu before her. "Just go down the list, and keep them coming."
"And you, sir?"
"A cold beer. And don't you dare put an umbrella or a straw in it." Jay slid into the seat across from Gaia. "You are not drinking your way through the whole cocktail menu."
"I'm a grown woman. I can drink whatever I want," she retorted.
Jay laughed. "Sure, right up until you get so drunk Marcel won't serve you any more. Medical evacuation for alcohol poisoning isn't pretty, and it's hardly responsible service of alcohol, which Marcel prides himself on."
If she ignored him, would he leave?
She kept her silence until the drinks arrived – the first cocktail on the menu was something called a fluffy duck, she found, which smelled of rum and coconut and all things tropical. Everything she usually loved about her rare holidays, but not this time.
"Better get us some food to go with this. Whatever you got, mate. This one's a lightweight. A couple of glasses of champagne the other night and she was on her ear," Jay told the barman, who nodded and hurried off to obey Jay's orders.
"I can handle my liquor just fine, thank you. And I'll eat when I'm damn well ready, not because you say so." Gaia took a deep pull from her straw. The potent cocktail made her eyes water, but she blinked the tears away. She refused to show any more weakness in front of Jay.
"Who said the food's for you? If I'm going to have to carry your drunk arse back to your house, I'll need to keep my strength up."
His grin clawed at her misery. "Go away."
He didn't seem to have heard her. "You know, the tables over the other side have a better view of the stars. They're pretty spectacular out here."
Like the waterfalls and the mountains and everything else that made her feel far too insignificant for her liking? "No thanks. I don't like stars."
Jay laughed. "How can anyone not like stars? Brilliant balls of gas, burning far away with nuclear power we can barely imagine, but just pinpricks in our sky here. I love to stand out on the beach and just watch the whole Milky Way. Someone told me the local Aboriginal people here call it the Big Emu. When I've had enough to drink, I can almost see it. You gotta kind of blur your eyes, lie back and look up. Makes you really feel one with the universe and all that shit. Being a star myself and all."
Jay meandered on, telling her stories about his life as a rock star. The roadies, the concerts, the other bands, the things that went on behind the scenes that most people never heard about, along with the times the press did hear about stuff that they blew out of all proportion.
"So many times they called me a rock god in the news, and most of the time it's all bullshit, but there's only one...nah, maybe two bits of the job where they're right. The first is when you're recording an album. At first, it's all kinda dark, void, formless, barely an idea of what will become. And there's the sound engineer telling you to make music, so out of nothing, you say to yourself, 'Let there be music,' and there it is. By the time you're finished, you've created something entirely new, and it's good."
Gaia finished her second...or was it her third? She couldn't remember. Anyway, she drank the last of her whatever-number fluffy duck, then snorted as she realised why Jay's words were so familiar, even if he'd bastardised the quote.
"What?" Jay demanded.
"Sounds like something out of the Book of Genesis. I didn't think someone like you would know anything about the Bible."
Jay stiffened. "What, you think only rich snobs like you get to go to private religious schools? I got news for you, baby. I went to a private Catholic school, and so did my sister. The whole band did."
Gaia's eyes widened in surprise. She almost missed the table with her empty glass, but corrected in time. "I just thought...you went to a public school or something. The way you call me a snob, like it's some sort of insult to take pride in yours
elf, and your family, and – "
Jay snorted. "I take pride in myself and my fucking family, but I'm not up myself like you, baby. I know who I am, which is more than I can say for you. Your family and your teachers have puffed you up so much with your own self-importance, they forgot to tell you that you have to be yourself first. You're not your family or your money or your fucking island. Who you are is about what you do. What you create, what you protect, what you make of your life. What other people will remember you for. If you don't do anything, you're nothing."
Tears sprang to her eyes. Gaia blinked and blinked, but somehow she lost the battle. She ducked her head to hide her wet cheeks from Jay.
She was nothing. She couldn't even protect her family's island. Nothing.
"Go away!" she ordered.
"What's wrong, baby?"
Those words again. Spoken in a low voice, filled with concern. No one cared about her. No one.
Gaia raised her head, expecting to see Jay's maddening grin, but the man wore a frown. She met his eyes, wondering at his questioning look. Yes, questioning – not calculating, like most men were when they sensed weakness.
Jay didn't want anything from her. That was the difference. Every other man she'd been with wanted to possess her or get her to give them something. He sat across from her because he wanted to be here, and all he wanted was the answer to his question.
She'd made enough of a fool of herself in front of him today.
Gaia shoved her chair away from the table and rose. All the ducks swimming in the rum in her bloodstream flew into her head, blinding her with their fluffiness.
Strong arms caught her before her wobbly knees threw her onto the floor. "Time to get you home, baby."
Civilisation. Where the world didn't make her feel so small. "I want to go home." But her legs weren't working properly. Too much running. Crocodiles and now ducks. "Where wildlife won't attack me."
The Rock Star and the Billionaire Page 11