Page 78 of The Sebastian Guarantee
Then it came to her. Woman-speak was the answer.
She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, make a path. Woman experiencing menstrual cramps coming through.”
Was she suffering from menstrual cramps? No, but she recalled her uncle’s face when, years ago, she’d asked him to explain menstruation and female reproduction. He’d turned the color of dirty dishwater and referred her to take up the topic with her aunt. And it worked again on these guys. Just like the menstruation proclamation had sent her uncle heading for the hills, the male investors parted like the Red Sea—pun absolutely intended.
“What are you doing, Pheebs?” Sebastian asked.
“Lady stuff,” she blurted, but she couldn’t take refuge in the restroom. They’d wait her out. She scanned the main hall and found her getaway route. Dropping the water bottle, she took off toward the doors that led to the boathouse. Bursting through, a chilly pop of air hit her face, followed by . . .
Dammit!A blaring siren.
Wee-ooh-wee-ooh!
She’d used the freaking emergency exitagain. And again, every pair of eyes fell on her. With her heart ready to explode, she surveyed the outdoor area and spied the quilting ladies working at a table under a canopy near the water’s edge. Mae, Enid, Shirley, and Theodora looked up from their work as she sprinted toward them.
Phoebe skidded to a halt. “If a gal needed a little space, where would you suggest she go?”
“You could always scope out the trails,” Mae suggested, then glanced at the gray, overcast sky. “But be careful. The trail could wash out if we get a lot of rain.”
Phoebe glanced over her shoulder as the men closed in, with Sebastian and Jeremy leading the pack. A hike wasn’t the answer. They’d follow her. She needed something better. “I’m not feeling like a walk. Any other suggestions?”
“Try a paddleboat—a little Zinger perk we’ve got here. There’s nothing like the peacefulness of a placid lake to calm one’s frayed nerves,” Mae replied.
“Paddleboats,” Phoebe repeated, her heart hammering as the blare of the alarm ceased and a chorus of male voices called to her.
Theodora pointed to a long wooden dock not far from the boathouse. A trio of two-seater hot pink paddleboats sporting Zinger’sZlogo bobbed on the water’s surface.
“Better hurry,” Enid remarked, then gestured with her chin toward the lodge. “It appears you’ve got some admirers.”
“Yeah, but it’s for the wrong reason,” she bit out over her shoulder as she set off for the dock.
The wood planks creaked beneath her feet as she traversed the wobbly path to freedom. She eased into the first paddleboat, threw the rope tethering it to the dock aside, then pedaled like her very life depended on it. Unfortunately, as far as watercraft went, paddleboats could be classified as ridiculously slow as molasses in the speed department. Nonetheless, she was moving away from the shore, and nobody could bombard her with questions or offers.
“Phoebe!” Sebastian called.
“Pheebs!” Jeremy belted.
She looked over her shoulder.Ugh!How could she have forgotten about the two remaining Zinger boats? With Sebastian in one and Jeremy pedaling away in the other, the men made a beeline for her. And to add insult to injury, Mother Nature decided to contribute to the calamity. The sky opened up. Beads of rain danced on the surface of the lake, dampened her blouse, and accumulated on her glasses.
Layers of frustration built in her chest, and she glared at the sky. “Seriously?” she yelled at the universe and nature and the male race and whoever had decidednotto add a motor to the back of paddleboats. Before she could think of someone or something else to blame for her predicament, Jeremy and Sebastian were hot on her tail.
“How did you guys catch up to me?” she yelled, pedaling faster.
“You’re a slow pedaler,” Sebastian answered.
“What?”
“You’ve always been. When we were kids, Oscar, Aria, and I would rock-paper-scissors it out to see who’d hang back with you when we were riding bikes.”
“Argh!” she cried.
“Pheebs, what are you doing? What about our stroll?” Jeremy hollered.
“Drewler, forget the stroll. Phoebe is on the precipice of success, and you’re distracting her.”
“Distract this,” Jeremy barked, followed by athunkof hardened plastic ramming into hardened plastic.
“Did you hit me on purpose, Strawberry Man Bun?” Sebastian shot back.
