Page 36 of Maneater
“What are you thinking? Give me some guidelines, and I can make something just for you.”
“I’m thinking…” I say, a finger grazing along my lip, a move he tracks. “Something fruity. Fancy and tropical.”
“Frozen?’
“Sure,” I say with a smile.
He’s moving behind the bar, dumping things into the blender.
“So, how long are you here?”
“Two weeks,” I say with a wistful stare. “I wish it were longer.”
He looks up as he throws some strawberries in, then pops the top on the blender and turns it on. “Have you done any activities yet? An excursion?”
I shrug. “Nothing crazy, just the cocktail mixer and laying out. We got here just a couple of days ago, and we were exploring our options. What’s your favorite excursion? You seem like the kind of guy who likes to have fun.”
“I, uh,” he stutters, a blush burning over his cheeks. “I really liked the stand-up paddleboards, but they’re not available right now.”
“Oh, right,” I say with wide, innocent eyes and a small frown. “The fire.” He nods, and I add, “What was that about?” He pours my drink, a pink frozen thing with a heavy hand of rum, before topping it with whipped cream and sliding it to me. I give him a small smile, reaching out and touching his forearm. “I’m dying for some gossip!”
He looks side to side like he’s worried someone might be listening, and for a moment, that familiar guilt of toeing the morality line hits me before I forget it as he starts talking. Then he leans his forearms on the bar. I lean in, too, keeping the pool house in my line of vision as I do, genuinely eager for his response.
“Honestly, no one’s really sure, but they’re pretty sure it was arson.” His voice goes lower. “Someone turned off all of the cameras on the resort five minutes before it happened.”
My eyes go wide as if this is new information to me.
“No way!” I say excitedly. “Does that happen often? Cameras turning off?”
He shakes his head. “No, this place is pretty well locked down, from what I understand. They see everything. We think it was someone who works here.”
“Here? My goodness.” I make my eyes wide and innocent, like this is the first time I’ve heard of this, and he falls for it, nodding fervently. “What doyouthink?”
He shrugs, but the way his eyes shift again has me leaning in farther, this time genuinely interested.
“I heard that Jeff, who used to run the rental shack, was begging for them to move him to excursions. And now that the shack is down, guess what he’s reassigned to.”
I gasp and let out a little shocked giggle. “No way!”
“Yeah. Crazy, right? I can’t imagine doing something like that, risking this job. We all have it pretty good here. I can’t imagine fucking up a gig like this.”
I take a long sip of my drink, which tastes delicious.
“So you like your job?” I ask, genuinely intrigued. Employee morale can be a significant factor in an issue like this, although I haven’t seen the employees seem to be miserable here.
“Oh, yeah. Great benefits…get to be outside all the time…good tips if you’re working directly with the guests. Gorgeous women…” he says, a cocky smile on his lips as he gets more comfortable. “Who would complain?”
I give him a flirty smile and try to think how long it’s been since Rory entered. There’s a back door that, according to the blueprints Rory got her hands on, is the exit she’s planning to head out of, but she’s supposed to come out and meet me here when she’s done. It usually takes five or ten minutes to get her stuff set up correctly. I should still have a few more minutes before she’s done.
I open my mouth to continue my conversation when I hear a familiar voice.
“Are you on the clock?” the voice asks. The kid in front of me doesn’t hide his shock or panic, standing straight and paling. The panic is mine, too, because Rory is still in the pool house, and now Rowan Fisher is here once again while I try to do my job.
“Oh, Mr. Fisher. I’m so sorry, sir, she was?—”
“Oh, Rowan, so good to see you,” I say far too loud to be normal, but I hope to fuck Rory hears me through the walkie-talkie on my wrist. “I was just bugging him. He did nothing wrong. In fact, he was very tight-lipped. I was trying to get juicy secrets from him, and he didn’t say a word.”
Rowan’s head tips, his jaw going tight in a way that shouldn’t be hot. “Why are you looking for secrets?”
