Page 47 of Sunburned

I closed my eyes, letting the sun warm my skin. I just needed some kind of evidence, then I could go home. Allison was in her suite now, but perhaps if I waited here long enough, she’d leave, giving me the opportunity to search her room.

—

I was dead to the world on my lounger a few hours later when Samira and Gisèle came in, laughing. Jennifer was no longer on the pool deck, and the sun had dropped in the sky. Annoyed with myself for falling asleep, I checked my phone, hoping Rosa had sent me what I asked for, but I had no new messages.

“I told you he was great,”I heard Gisèle rib.

Cabinets opened and closed.“It’s not that I didn’t think he would be great,”Samira answered.“It’s that I didn’t want to be murdered by my husband. Where are the pods for the Nespresso machine?”

“Just wait till you see the pictures,”Gisèle said.“It takes forever because he develops them all in his own darkroom, but so worth it.”

“The longer the better. I’d like to live until I’m twenty-six. I can’t find the pods anywhere.”

“Frame one for Tyson,”Gisèle encouraged.“Say you did it for him.”

Samira snorted. “Laurent,” she called. “Hello?” I heard the door to the servants’ area open and close.“Where is he?”

“He’s not here,”I answered, rising from my lounger. An espresso sounded divine, and this seemed like a good opportunity to connect with Samira and Gisèle, who had yet to say so much as a word to me.

“Putain,”Samira exclaimed, clutching her chest in shock as she collapsed against the island. Both girls were barefoot in bikinis and cover-ups as if they were coming from the beach, but their hair and skin looked suspiciously perfect.“I didn’t know anyone was there,”she continued, recovering. She peered at me warily.“You speak French?”

I nodded.

They exchanged a surprised glance but didn’t comment, nor did they switch to English.

“Is Tyson here?”Gisèle asked.

I nodded.“Downstairs.”

“Merde,”Samira muttered, lowering her voice.“He didn’t go to that meeting?”

“I don’t know,”I said, unsure of what she was referring to.“They had the hearing this morning—”

She shook her head.“Never mind.”She went to the mirrored backsplash and evaluated her reflection, wiping at the makeup around her eyes.

“I have face wash in my bathroom if you need it,”I offered.

She paused, again surprised.“Thank you, but it’s so dark down there, I don’t think he’ll notice before I shower.”

I gestured to the bottles of vodka and Kahlua on the island.“Are you making something?”

“We wanted espresso martinis, but we can’t find the Nespresso pods,”Gisèle said.

I opened the side of the machine and showed them the row of pods.“They’re stored in here.”

“I’ve never seen that,”Gisèle said, peering at the machine.

“I have the same version at home,”I said.“Do you want me to make you an espresso?”

Samira held up two fingers.“For the martinis. Unless you want one?”she added.

It was an afterthought, and she likely didn’t expect—or particularly want—me to accept, but it was a chance to get on her good side.And I could use a pick-me-up before dinner.“Sure,”I said, pressing the button on the Nespresso machine.“Are you guys coming out tonight?”

“Where?”Samira asked.

“I can’t remember the name of the restaurant. A seafood place in Gustavia, I think. Then La Petite Plage?”

In the reflection of the mirrored backsplash, I watched them exchange another glance, and I had the distinct feeling that they could read each other’s minds.“Who is going?”Gisèle asked.

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