Page 2 of Sunburned

Rosa tucked a brunette curl behind her ear and grinned, displaying her dimple. She’d recently cut her hair to just above her shoulders, and it suited her face, accentuating her large dark eyes and rosy cheeks.

Rosa was named Friendliest in high school, her warm smile always at the ready, while my RBF had earned me the moniker Ice Queen, myintroversion mistaken for aloofness. We might never have become friends if her family hadn’t moved in next door to my mom and me when we were in ninth grade. Now more of a sister, she was my children’s honorary auntie, and, since she left the police force a year ago, my business partner at Sunshine Discovery Agency.

No, we’re not spies, though spying on people does come with the territory.

Discovery agents are most often employed by attorneys to collect pre-litigation information before cases go to trial, though we are sometimes hired by corporations or individuals to gather intelligence privately. As a computer systems expert, I specialize in the digital side of things, while Rosa handles the human half, a division that plays to our natural strengths. In normal circumstances, Rosa would be the one jetting off to St. Barth’s to meet with the client while I gladly stayed behind to provide digital support from the comfort of my office.

But Tyson Dale was no normal circumstance.

The money wasn’t why I was going. I had my own reasons—reasons that Tyson was quick to remind me of when I’d initially turned him down. But he understood that Rosa hated him and would never have let me go had he not offered a generous sum for our services that would allow her to buy the new car she so desperately needed. He was smart like that, always acutely aware of pressure points and unafraid to take advantage of them.

So for once, I was the one boarding the plane while she stayed behind to watch my boys.

“Not gonna lie, I kinda want to see the inside of the jet too,” Rosa said.

I sighed and waved for her to follow as I started up the airstair.

We found the boys in the cockpit peppering the good-natured pilots with questions, their faces aglow. They were enjoying the attention, and there wasn’t room for all of us in the small enclosure, so I gratefully accepted the cold towel the stewardess offered and followed her into the elegant cabin of the plane.

The closest I’d ever been to a private jet was seeing one on television, but I knew better than to gape as I took in the buttery cream leather seats and glossy wood accents, realizing as I cleaned my hands with the rosemary-scented towel that it was likely more for the plane’s benefit than for mine.

Rosa sank into a captain’s chair, rubbing her palms over the smooth armrests. “I could get used to this,” she said. “Why’d you guys break up, again?”

I glared at her and she laughed, accepting a glass of champagne from the stewardess as I politely declined, not exactly in a celebratory mood.

“Joking, of course,” she said, sipping her bubbles. “His ego is definitely not worth a billion dollars. Though, I mean, he does travel all over the world for work, right? How much would you really have to see him?”

Her cell rang, and she raised it to her ear. “Sunshine Discovery Agency…No, this is Rosa Rodriguez, I’m her business partner. What is this concerning?”

Her eyes met mine as she listened, her brow furrowing. “No comment. Please do not call here again.”

“What was that about?” I asked as she hung up, jamming the phone into the pocket of her jeans.

“That was a reporter, hoping to talk to you about your relationship with Ian Kelley.”

I grimaced. “Shit, that was fast.”

“Brace yourself. It may be a shitstorm by the time you get back.”

The thought made me physically ill.

The stewardess appeared with my boys on her heels, now sucking on lollipops. “It’s time to prepare for takeoff.”

Rosa chugged half her glass of champagne and rose, wrapping me in a hug. “See you in five days. I’ll keep the wolves at bay while you’re gone. And seriously, anything you need, just say the word. I can’t wait to hear what it is Tyson’s willing to pay us a hundred grand for.”

“Yeah, same,” I said, kissing my boys on their foreheads.

But I had an idea.

—

Thirty minutes later, I was airborne, the lone passenger on the jet as we soared southeast through the endless blue, the line between the sea and sky indistinguishable out the large oval windows.

I dropped my gaze to my laptop, once more going over the trove of information on Tyson and his company that I’d scraped from the internet in the twenty-four hours since he’d hired us. Until now, I’d done my best to steer clear of any mention of him or his success in the decade since we broke up, though I couldn’t help but see the headlines over the years:

Tyson Dale Wants to Save the World with New Desalination Technology

Could De-Sal Be the Next Big Thing?

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