Page 47 of Save Me
“Theydoactually look like mermaids.” Sloane pauses to watch the performer with awe. “Honestly, I was thinking it’d be tacky, but her costume is art.”
The costume might border on obscene for the prudish, hugging the performer’s body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination in some areas. “For what it cost, I should hope so.” When I saw the byline in Lena’s budget, I nearly choked.
“It’s not just what she’s wearing. The way she moves and the tail and …everything.”
The performer spins and twirls, a small line of bubbles escaping her nose as she moves gracefully.
“Where do they learn to swim like this?” Sloane asks.
“I told you. Mermaid school.” I give the same answer as before, because I still don’t fucking know.
“Oh, right, yes,thatplace.” She cuts me a dry look, but it slips off just as fast. “You know, they have thesekinds of aquatic shows in other places too. Did you hear about that one where a performer was attacked by a fish?”
“Uh,no, I did not hear about that.”
“Yeah. Same idea as this. It was a few months ago. I can’t remember where it was.”
I eye the marine life with renewed wariness. “What kind of fish?”
“A big one? I hope that doesn’t happen here.”
“If it does, that’s Lena’s department.” Add it to the list after chefs who maim themselves and housekeeping staff who fuck in the guest rooms.
Sloane takes in the room. “This is different than I expected.”
“And what did you expect?”
“With some of the crazy headlines I’ve seen about him and his friends? I don’t know. Strobe lights and EDM? Whips and chains? A sex den?”
“That’s not until later,” I deadpan.
She falters. “You’re joking, right?”
Not as much as you might think. And that’s not a question I can answer without divulging secrets better taken to my grave.
A cobalt-blue dress catches my notice followed quickly by lengthy red hair. Abbi’s in deep conversation with a server carrying a silver platter. Bonus, Henry is nowhere nearby.
“Come on.” I lead Sloane over by the hand.
“… sushi’s a big no-no.” Abbi’s hand smooths over her belly.
“Of course, that makes sense,” the pretty blond serverwith corkscrew curls says. “Let me ask the chef to put together a plate for you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Abbi waves her off.
“I insist, Mrs. Wolf. I’ll be back in less than a minute.” She ducks away, her mission imperative.
“Hey, Red,” I call out.
Abbi spins around, her eyes flashing wide on Sloane before darting back to me. “Ronan! I was looking for you. I heard you took off.”
“Just for a walk on the beach.” I lean in to kiss her cheek, catching a whiff of her shampoo. It used to be my favorite scent, but Sloane’s spell-casting perfume has officially assumed top spot. “This is her,” I whisper.
“You were supposed to give me some warning,” she hisses back in my ear.
By the time I’ve pulled away, Abbi has her smile firmly affixed. “Hi. You must be Sloane.”
Beside me, Sloane stands frozen for a few beats before seeming to snap out of it. “Yes. Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” She hesitates, her gaze dropping to Abbi’s belly. “I didn’t realize you were expecting.”
