Page 41 of Slow Simmer

“I’m so sorry,” Carlo said, his eyes anguished. “I’m so sorry,cara… we caught the saboteur.”

“Carlo, you’re frightening me! What’s happened? Is anyone hurt?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, it was on Luke’s new surveillance camera in the cold room. He was injecting something into the birthday cake for Mr Hodges’ party. Suzannah - it was Edouard.”

Suzannah stared at him incredulously. “No,” she said after a minute of shocked silence. “No, you can’t… no. Not Edouard.”

“I’m so sorry,” Carlo said again, reaching out his arms towards her, and she collapsed against him, feeling suddenly cold and sick.

“Why?” she gasped, anguished.

“He wouldn’t say.” Carlo smoothed his hands down her back soothingly. “Luke and I confronted him, but all he said was that he wanted a lawyer. He’s been taken into police custody. They’ll let us know if he decides to talk.”

Wounded to the core by the betrayal of someone she had trusted, Suzannah groaned against Carlo’s shoulder. He tightened his arms around her, just held her for long moments as she came to terms with it and slowly pulled herself back together.

“What do you want to do?” Carlo asked, and she loved him for offering her the choice. “If you need some time, I can take over here, and Julie has the restaurant in hand. Or you could head back there and reassure yourself everything is okay, or carry on here… whatever you need, we’ll make it work.”

For a long moment, she held tightly to his solid strength, trying to absorb his calm into herself, and then she lifted her head.

“We carry on. I’ll stay here until they wrap filming for the day and then come on over to the restaurant. The director said they’ll wrap right after sunset, so I’ll be over there by the time dinner really gets going.”

He didn’t ask if she was sure, just put his arm around her and accompanied her back into the house. “I can stay an hour,cara,” he said, and she nodded, grateful for his steadying presence.

She was especially grateful when, a couple of minutes after they walked back into the kitchen area, Myst leapt up from where she’d been sitting at the table talking with the director after eating and bolted outside to throw up at the foot of a large palm tree.

“Merde!” Suzannah bolted right after her, panicking. Had Edouard somehow managed to sabotage her ingredients before she brought them over here? But others had eaten the pasta, George ate a whole bowl of it, and hadn’t been ill…

Myst held out a hand to hold Suzannah at bay, giving her a weak smile. “Morning sickness,” she whispered. “Shh.”

George was right on Suzannah’s heels, gathering Myst’s long hair in his big hand and holding it back from her face, wrapping his other arm around her supportively. Realising she was both incorrect in her assumptions and unwanted on the scene, Suzannah retreated hastily.

Carlo was hanging onto the edge of the kitchen bench, looking almost as queasy and panicked as Suzannah had felt a moment earlier. She met his eyes and shook her head, smiling.

“Nothing to do with us, she’s pregnant,” she said, speaking in rapid French, and Carlo immediately looked relieved.

“Thank God,” he said. “For a moment there, I panicked.”

“Me too.” Suzannah let him draw her into a close embrace. B-Rex and the director were the only other people in the room, the crew on a short break, and the two men were obviously already aware of Myst’s condition. B-Rex was eating his pasta unconcernedly and the director rose to approach Suzannah and Carlo, expression wary.

“Obviously, with Myst and George’s relationship not yet public, her condition has to remain a secret as well,” he began, and Suzannah at once held up her hand to stop him.

“As far as we’re concerned, the confidentiality agreement we signed regarding the video shoot covers everything which happens on site,” she said firmly.

The director looked relieved. “What happens on Sunfish Island, stays on Sunfish Island?” he joked.

“Stays in this room. You don’t want to know what the island gossip network is like,” Carlo said dryly. “Please believe, nobody will hear of this from us.”

“Thank you,” it was Myst’s voice, a little thin, as George solicitously let her back inside and to the luxurious designer couch in the living area. “I’m so sorry I threw up your wonderful pasta, Suzannah - I promise, it was nothing you did.” The pop star grimaced as she sat down. “I’ve barely been able to keep anything down for the last week. Whoever called it morning sickness was a bloody liar.”

Suzannah lost no time in going over and crouching before Myst, reaching to touch her hand. “Is there anything we can get for you? It’s no trouble to make anything. Anything you want, we’ve got the ingredients. I hear ginger’s good for morning sickness, I had a friend who couldn’t keep down anything but ginger oatmeal biscuits and ginger ale for a couple of weeks in her early pregnancy. Still, it was more calories than none.”

“That… actually sounds not totally unappealing,” Myst said after a few moments of consideration. “I can’t promise I’ll keep it down, but at least the thought doesn’t make me want to hurl.”

Suzannah turned to look at Carlo, but he was already heading for the door. “I’ll see if Jace has what I need,” he called over his shoulder on the way out. “If not, I’ll run back toLa Sirèneand make a batch!”

“Thank you so much,” George said gratefully.

“As I said, it’s no trouble at all,” Suzannah said. “We’re here to provide anything you need.”

“In that case,” B-Rex put in behind her, “about those hot dogs?”

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