Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
I walk away from Ariel’s door, only to jerk when another door opens.
Misty peeks out into the hall.
Misty...who admitted she’s into River—according to Sienna, anyway—and who claimed one of the men had already made his choice the first night.
What a bloody liar.
I recoil at the sight of her in her pink tank top and denim shorts. What did she do to River on their date last night? Whatever it was, it catapulted him into my bed for some hot and ferocious sex. Certainly not complaining about that.
Something makes me walk closer, however, and I give her a good look. Her eyes are puffy and her nose red. Has she been crying?
“Are you all right?” I ask. “You look upset. Did something happen?”
Misty sniffles and gives a laugh—sort of. “What always does, I guess. I screw things up and end up alone. I don’t know why I thought this would be different.”
I cock my head. Is Misty actually showing a touch of humanity? If so, maybe I can get her to spill a bit of the truth.
I give her a smile. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so awful. Do you need to talk?”
Misty sniffs and lifts her eyebrows. “That would be nice. I could use a friend here. And a cup of coffee.”
To have a friend you must first be one.
Wisdom from my grandmother, and I’m tempted to say the words to Misty, but I bite back the snotty response.
Instead, I nod. “Of course. I could use a cup of coffee as well. Let’s go into your room and we’ll order a pot.”
“I thought English people drank tea,” she says.
I resist an eyeroll. “I’ve grown accustomed to a good strong cup of java in the morning. ”
I walk into her room and close the door. I have to stop my jaw from dropping. Colorful dresses spill out of an open Louis Vuitton suitcase. Some are draped over the furniture. Half a dozen pairs of designer shoes, from glittering Louboutins to sleek Jimmy Choos, are strewn haphazardly across the plush carpet. Beautiful fashion and she treats it like refuse.
Misty apparently brought her own designer wardrobe. Evangeline outfitted us well, but there’s got to be a hundred thousand dollars of clothing in this sitting room alone.
Tell me you’re a rich girl without telling me you’re a rich girl...
Misty walks to the intercom and presses the button.
“Yes, Ms. Holmes?”
“Please send a pot of strong black coffee to my room. Two cups. Plus a yogurt and granola parfait with strawberries.” She turns to me. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“No, thank you.” Then I change my mind. If I want Misty to talk, I need to lean into this. Share a meal with her. “Wait. I’ll have fresh fruit and scrambled egg whites, please.”
Misty places the order and then shuts off the intercom.
I look around the room. Where to sit? Finally, I move a Carolina Herrera red silk sheath from the davenport and take a seat.
Misty sits next to me, directly on top of a little black Chanel dress.
I hold back a gasp.
If someone treated my designs this way I’d have a bloody heart attack.
Misty immediately turns to me. “Do you have brothers and sisters, Emily? Any siblings?”
Odd question. I was expecting her to want to talk about what’s going on here on the island.
“I’ve one half-sister from my father. My parents divorced when I was in secondary school.”
Misty’s eyes go wide. Interesting... So I continue.
“I don’t know her well. I’m not as close to my family as I’d prefer to be. Why do you ask? What brought you here?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, and just when I’m thinking this will lead to nothing—
“I came because I wanted to meet someone special.” She sighs. “Plus, I wanted to meet the rest of you women as well. I grew up as an only child. Sure, I had money, a nanny, a whole staff to take care of me, but I always felt alone.”
I’m oddly touched. I grew up as an only child as well before my parents split. I’m a bit of a loner, so I didn’t mind it so much, but I always had friends. Then I narrow my gaze. I can’t forget who I’m dealing with. I don’t trust Misty Holmes.
“You seem to have made friends,” Misty continues. “You and Ariel have hit it off.”
I shrug. “It’s second-nature to me to nurture women who seem overwhelmed. Ariel reminds me of a lot of the women I work with.”
“Models?”
“Some, yes. Beauty sometimes comes at a price.”
Misty tilts her head. “I used to want to be a model,” she says wistfully. “I wanted something to make people care about me.”
“Beauty won’t make people care about you, love. And by the way, you are beautiful. I doubt you’d be here if you weren’t.”
She smiles weakly and sniffles again. “Ariel is so lucky. She’s beautiful and sweet. There’s something about her that makes people care.”