Page 17 of Beach Bodies

‘I don’t know…’ I demur. It’s not even that he’s a guest. It’s that I haven’t been on a date since Jessica. I should just say no, right?

‘It’ll be fun,’ he promises, leaning against the counter, easy in his body, his expression frank.

Fun.The mental trash bin disgorges its own version of what fun with Daniel might look like.

‘I…’ To my horror, I feel my nipples harden under the thin red fabric of my suit. The white material of the cotton sweatshirt won’t do much to disguise that, so I wrap an arm around myself and angle my body away from Daniel.What are you doing? Just tell the guy no and take a cold shower!

Across the dining hall, Vic catches my eye and taps his wrist. Right– I’m due at the east pool in five minutes.

‘I’d better get to work,’ I say, pushing off the counter.

‘I’ll be at the bar at eight.’

Damn. Tenacious.

For a second, I flirt with the idea of meeting him tonight. Dressing up a little, doing my hair, having… fun. Yes, there’s some rare chemistry between us. Of course some repressed part of me wants to indulge that connection. I mean, the way that man touched me with his eyes alone…But I remind myself that he’s not just a cute guest. He’s a journalist. It would be plain stupid to talk to him, even off-record. My continued presence at the Riovan depends on a certain amount of invisibility, and the last thing I need is a journalist picking away at the layers.

Invisibility. Huh. A strange callback to my teen years, I suppose, except that this time around, my beauty is the disguise.

‘We’ll see.’ I toss Daniel a parting smile as I walk away. ‘Catch you later, Daniel Black.’

‘Catch you later, Lily Lennox.’

I don’t turn around.

Of course the image of him waiting alone at the bar tonight makes me feel a bit guilty. But come on. He’ll have no trouble finding someone else to buy a drink for. Whether he’s after ass or info for his article, the Riovan is full of potential candidates who will be glad to provide either– or both.

It’s only when I get to the pool that I realize: I never told him my last name.

Chapter Eight

I tuck the thick comforter up around me like a feathery cocoon as I lean against the headboard.

Eight o’clock is finding me not at the bar with sexy Mr Journalist, but in bed. Which, to me, is trading up. Honestly, I could go to sleep right now. After a shift at the beach and a shift and a half at the pool, I’m beat, my back achy and my shoulders tight– bad posture coming back to bite me. But my work is not done yet.

In the low light of the nightstand lamp, I pull out the guest roster and blink a few times. The words are a little blurry– I’m just that tired.

I’ve left the patio door open, and a breeze ruffles the curtains, sending pleasant chills on to my exposed arms. I can’t hear the waves in this poolside room. I miss the sound. Instead, I’m treated to the splashes of people jumping into the pool, peppered with a few feminine shrieks.

OK, time to focus. I turn the pages as the minutes tick past, flipping to some of the people I remember, like Chad Doyle from Harvest Moon, who’s on antidepressants, and CraigLancaster, who’s really into the sauna.That can’t be good for his heart condition…

Then, almost without choosing, I flip back to Daniel Black: 6’, 170 lbs, brown eyes. Now I see why his face didn’t immediately connect with his picture. The picture shows a clean-shaven guy with shorter hair in a white shirt and tie, smiling, which somehow is weird. The desk version of the broodier Daniel I met. I scan his health info. Mmm, slightly high cholesterol. Must be all that bacon. Nothing else to note… and Vic’s notes are sparse.Make sure he has a 5-star experience!! This could be great publicity!!! Connect him w/Serena!!!!!

Wow. That’s a lot of exclamation marks.

At a clicking sound, I look at the door. In a panic, I stuff the guest list under the covers just as a girl stumbles in with a roller bag behind her. Roommate. And… she’s not looking great. I hop out of bed to greet her.

‘Hi, I’m Lily. And you’re… ?’

‘River,’ she gasps. The door closes behind her. Her dark hair hangs lank around a pale face. ‘Sorry, I’m—’ Her body convulses, and before I can do anything else, she throws up on the carpet. The splatter is pale pink and… chunky. Extra chunky.

‘Ooooh,’ I groan before I can stop myself. There’s a panicked squeezing in my gut. Sweat springs up on my skin like a sudden dew.

Jess, are you OK?Me, five years ago in a room just like this one, or nearly, and Jessica puking. It was chunky, too. She said she was fine. She must have eaten something that upset her…Maybe that green smoothie that looked like puke?I offered, trying to laugh even though the sound of people throwing up has always had a domino effect on me.

I shake myself out of the memory and back to River, who’s grabbing a fistful of tissues from a nearby box, but honey, tissues are not going to cut it…

‘Just leave it,’ I say. ‘I’ll take care of it. Bathroom’s here.’ I swing open the door helpfully.