The Lion's Den(46)

But as I step into the bathroom and turn to pull the door closed behind me, I see her stuff them in her purse. Here I was feeling bad for the girl that she didn’t get to design a ridiculously expensive bikini today, when clearly she’s had a far more interesting afternoon than I have.

At eight sharp, Amythest and I make our way up the spiral staircase to join the others for hors d’oeuvres on the main deck, but when we reach the landing, we’re diverted by a commotion in Summer and John’s room. Summer’s voice rises above another female voice, both upset, while Claire, Wendy, and Brittani hover in the doorway, looking on. Peering over their shoulders, I see Summer at the foot of the bed, the emerald necklace John gave her dangling from her fist. Rhonda’s arm is around Summer, and Julie has a steadying hand on the back of a tearful Emmanuelle.

“Apparently Emmanuelle tried to steal Summer’s necklace,” Brittani explains under her breath.

Julie and Emmanuelle confer in French too quickly and quietly for me to catch the exact words, but I can tell that Emmanuelle is vehemently denying the charge.

“I saw you put it in your pocket!” Summer maintains.

I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder and turn to see Vinny, with John on his heels. We step aside, and the two men enter the room. Summer clings to John. “Oh, thank God you’re here. I caught her”—she points at Emmanuelle—“trying to steal the beautiful necklace you gave me.”

“It’s not true!” Emmanuelle protests. “I put the necklace in the box.” She indicates Summer’s gold jewelry box. “That is all. I promise.”

“Liar,” Summer snaps.

John looks between the two women, weary.

“Emmanuelle is an honest person,” Julie pipes up. “I have worked with her for three years and never had trouble. I believe it is a simple misunderstanding.”

“You’re just covering for her,” Summer accuses. “We should call the police.”

“Okay,” John says. “Emmanuelle, Julie, come to my office.” He turns his attention to Summer. “Our guests have just arrived. Please take your friends and go entertain them until I return. And not a word about this. Understand?”

She nods. John and Vinny exit with Julie and Emmanuelle trailing behind like scolded dogs. Rhonda hugs Summer as the rest of us pile into the room and gather around her.

“Are you okay?” Wendy rubs Summer’s back as Rhonda and Brittani hug her.

Summer nods, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “I just feel so violated, you know?”

Am I the only one who remembers that just yesterday Summer told us all she was going to get this girl fired? I can’t understand why she’s even bothering to pretend now that John’s left the room. I contort my face into a mask of sympathy to match the others, but I don’t for a second believe that Emmanuelle was trying to steal her gaudy necklace. Summer’s wanted Emmanuelle off the boat since dinner the first night and has doubtless been stalking her since, waiting for the right moment to strike. The poor girl never had a chance.

Over Rhonda’s shoulder, Summer catches my eye and winks. Then, in a flash, the tears return.





(one year ago)

Los Angeles



On a suffocating Tuesday afternoon in late August, I lay prostrate on my couch sipping an iced coffee and half watching Arctic Worlds in an effort to cool down. Even with the curtains closed against the sun and the window unit in my bedroom chugging away, the heat remained thick as fleece.

Hunter stood at the window, peering through the drapes at the outside world. “There goes another one,” he announced as a man jogged by. “Shirt off. My God, look at that six-pack! That’s five so far today. Eight if you count the short ones.”

“This is why you should move back from New York and take the empty apartment on the first floor. It would be like old times.” Hunter had moved to New York for a part in a musical eight months ago and was now recording an album there as well, so I no longer got to see nearly as much of him as I’d have liked.

“But I get to stay for free on your couch,” he reasoned. “And this way you have a place to stay in New York, too. It’s like we’re bicoastal. Oh. My. God. Another one!”

“It’s the hiking trail at the end of the street. It draws them like flies.”

“We should get a baby pool and sit in the front yard,” he suggested.

“So you can out-six-pack them with your rock-hard abs?” I giggled.

“Yes.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up to sitting. “We have to get out of this apartment. I’m dying.”

I groaned as he peered through the slit in the curtains.

“Speaking of dying, your plants don’t look so good, either,” he said. “Come on, let’s water them. It’s not like it’s any cooler in here. We can put up the umbrella, catch a breeze…”

Clearly he was not going to be deterred, so I filled the watering can and followed him onto the balcony, where he promptly stripped off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles under smooth dark skin. Two girls walking by caught sight of him, and one almost walked into a street sign. He waved.

“Too bad you’re playing for the other team.” I laughed.

I watered my poor shriveled plants while he leaned on the railing posing like Adonis awaiting his Prince Charming. I couldn’t help myself. I had to pour the water on him. He swatted at me, which only made me splash more on him. “I’m just adding to your allure,” I teased.