Page 12 of Last Ticket to Paradise

He’d bet cash money she’d never been to Paris in her life. “Name one restaurant. I pride myself on my wine selection.”

She waved her long hands. “Oh, you know, that place off the Champs-Élysées.”

At least her pronunciation was impeccable. “No, I’m not sure I know which place you’re talking about. Lots of restaurants in Paris have top-notch wine lists.”

Gunther chuckled. “You know, Jake. That little bistro that serves the heavenly foie gras. The name escapes me, too.”

Jake snapped his fingers. “I know just the place. Is it the one with the blue and white awning, Georgette?”

She glanced at Gunther. “I-I think so.”

Gunther patted her thigh with his chubby hand. “That’s the one.”

Georgette snagged a waitress and grabbed an island punch off her tray. She took a swig and turned back toward Jake, her eyes glittering. “I asked Jake this afternoon if he felt guilty bringing tourism to this island paradise. He said he didn’t, but he sounded terribly defensive.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. She didn’t grovel either.

Nicole clapped her hands. “Jake defensive? Believe me, darling, I’ve never seen Jake defensive. He’s the kind of man who takes what he wants and damn the torpedoes. Isn’t that right, Gunther?”

“I have to agree with Nicole, Georgette.”

Jake smirked. Score one for Jake.

Georgette took another gulp of punch. If she kept that up, he’d be pouring her into her bed tonight. Of course, he’d have to undress her first, and tuck her in, and keep her company.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “Is your hotel still considered the place to be on Palumba? I heard a number of guests at dinner talking about going to another hotel tonight to see some show, and the crowd is definitely thinning out here.”

She just kept ’em coming. Maybe she wasn’t so shy and reserved after all. “Costa Azulhas been doing that show for over a year now. My guests always go over to see it. In fact, we sell tickets for the show at Palumba Falls. We could do it better here, but I won’t do it.”

Georgette smiled. “Afraid to compete?”’

He crossed his arms. “Just won’t do that show.”

Nicole lit another cigarette. “It’s thePalarosasacrifice ritual.”

Georgette tilted her head. “Palarosa?”

Gunther said, “It’s the island voodoo.”

Jake scowled. He wished Costa Azul would stop doing the show, and he wished the shops in town would stop selling the Palarosa icons.

Georgette leaned forward. “I didn’t know the island practices voodoo.”

Gunther nodded. “Palumba has always been a mixture of cultures. Maybe that’s why it remained peaceful, even through the Spanish, French, and British colonizations. There’s a combination of Cuban, African, Spanish, French, and British cultures. Palarosa began before the colonization. It includes the usual potions and spells—some for good, some for bad—but nobody complains about it too much.”

The torch flames danced in Georgette’s eyes, making her look like a Palarosa witch herself. This stuff always fascinated the tourists.

She sipped her drink. “What’s the Palarosa sacrifice ritual? Is that where the virgin is sacrificed to the Palarosa god?”

Nicole hissed through her teeth. “It’s better than that, darling. Palarosa is more practical. It’s not a virgin the Palarosa gods want. They demand the sacrifice of a fallen woman.”

Georgette giggled and gestured around the pool. “I guess there’s no shortage here.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

Gunther stroked Georgette’s curls. “I think our girl has had a little too much island punch.”

Jake clenched his fists. Gunther definitely preferred men, but he’d bed a woman if the fancy struck him. Jake was just happy about the change in subject. There was too much rumor and speculation about Palarosa...especially lately. It was bad for tourism, bad for business.

Jake pushed up from his chair and grabbed Georgette’s wrist, pulling her up with him. “Come on. Let’s get you a glass of water at the bar and a little fresh air. These two smoke too much. I’m going to ban it out here one of these days.”

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