Page 22 of Beach Bodies

‘Aww, you guys are the sweetest.’ She loops an arm around me, and Daniel positions himself under her other.

‘On three,’ he says.

‘Three?’ says Serena with a slur to her voice. ‘Heeeey, awesome! I’ve always wanted to do a threesome! It’ll be sooo fun… You guys are soooo hot… I’m up for anything, seriously…’

My cheeks burn. I don’t look at Daniel, but I can feel him shaking with laughter as we lug the VP of Branding back to her room.

Chapter Nine

Serena’s room is not just a room, but an Executive Suite, as the brass plaque proclaims, one of a dozen located in the central building of the Riovan opposite the spa, which is closed. Behind the spa’s glass door, the reception desk is lit by a security light at a weird angle. Eerie. Not a fan. Though I do wonder if Serena has a key… the saunas are back there, and it could be useful to have off-hours access.

Serena rummages in her clutch purse.

‘Voila!’ she cries, pulling out a matte black key card with a golden swoop on one side. ‘Threesome tiiiiiime!’ She swipes the card and Daniel opens the door.

My plan is to help her straight to bed, but she pulls away from both of us and lurches inside, leaving Daniel and me hesitant at the threshold. ‘Wow, the floor is moving!’ Then, she jumps face-forward on the bed. ‘The fun is over here, guys!’ She smacks her own ass.

The tickle of laughter in my throat wars with the mortified heat blazing in my face. This might be the most bizarre– andinappropriate– interaction I’ve ever had with a superior in a place of employment.

I step inside the room, but Daniel braces an arm on the door frame. ‘Do you think we should…’

‘Have an amazing threesome?’ I complete, looking over at Serena, who is now in doggy position executing a sloppy twerk. I tilt my head and pretend to consider. ‘While intriguing, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.’

We both laugh. Daniel gives an incredulous head shake. ‘Not in my cards when I signed up for a wellness retreat…’

‘It’ll make your article extra spicy.’ I put on a fake reporter voice. ‘When the VP of Branding offered me a night of kinky sex with her and her subordinate, lowly lifeguard Lily Lennox– wait, that’s too many Ls—’ I suppress a laugh. ‘But seriously– you won’t write about this, will you?’

‘Rest easy. I’m not here to take down the Riovan.’

I feign wiping sweat off my forehead. ‘Phew.’ But actually, his casual remark is drawing feelings to the surface like blood to a cut.

Taking down this place is exactly what I wanted a journalist to help me do, five years ago.

I called reporters from any and all English-speaking news outlets. Leaving voicemails, sending emails, begging them to do an exposé on the Riovan… and what did I get back? Just a handful of terse,Thanks for your enquiry. If we would like to discuss further, we will contact you at the information you provided.Most ghosted me.

No one cared enough to tell my story.

Would Daniel care? What if I told him everything, tonight, right now?

But that’s impossible.

I look at him and wish with all my might that this was happening five years ago. Or even four. What if he’d shown up the first year I was lifeguarding? I would have told him everything, and he could have written the article that would have incinerated this place. Then I wouldn’t have had to do what I did—

‘Hey– you OK?’ he says, with those eyes that apparently see everything.

‘Fine.’ I force a smile. That ship has sailed. The last thing I need now is to be featured in an article that draws attention to me in any way. I had my moment of shouting and waving my arms at the world. That didn’t work; now it’s about staying under the radar. ‘Just preparing myself to deal with…’ I jerk a thumb backwards towards Serena. Right on cue, there’s a loud groan from the bed, and this one is not the sexy kind. She’s going to be very sick, very soon– I can feel it.

‘Escape while you can,’ I joke, even though I’m spiralling a little. What-ifs always get you on the way out, don’t they? Like airport shrimp.

Daniel gives Serena one last look as if considering if he should stick around, but I say, ‘I got this.’

Looking relieved, he says, ‘Good luck,’ then heads off down the hall. I wait a couple of seconds to see if he’ll turn around. He doesn’t. I close the door behind me.

Alone now with my drunk superior, I take a moment to survey her room. King-size bed made up in the resort’s signature white. Modern art, a pink velvet chaise-lounge, a brass bar cart, fully stocked not with alcohol but what appears tobe protein powders and supplements. And a whole row of windows overlooking the dark ocean.

A noise makes me jump. Serena, snoring, now curled on her side.

‘Hey, wait a second, sleepy lady,’ I say in a loud voice, as I draw the curtains over the dark windows. ‘Don’t nod off yet. We need to get some water in you.’ I make for the bathroom, hoping to find a glass. Holy shit. A steam shower, a soaker tub, and its own sound system. There are a hell of a lot of switches on the wall. I flip one, but instead of the lights coming on, spa music starts playing. I flip it back off. The next one, thankfully, turns on the lights above the vanity. There’s a clean glass on the sink; I fill it up with water and bring it back to Serena.

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