6. Scraping The Bottom
CHAPTER 6
scraping the bottom
BELLE
I was a good girl. A nerd. A scientist. I had my moments. In university, I'd gone wild from time to time, mostly because alcohol and I weren't good friends; as in alcohol was a bad influence on me. I'd had sex, usually with fellow nerds, and the result had been…well, okay . Not Captain Mick level, for sure.
For the past decade I'd been working all the time . First, I was studying. Then, I was doing research and getting my PhD. Then, I was doing research, doing my post doc, and writing papers. Then, I was doing research and helping to cure diseases. I was working all the fucking time. I hadn't taken a vacation in years. I took a day off for Thanksgiving because Anna insisted, and the same for Christmas. I came from a family of workaholics so it wasn't strange for them to see me have no life.
But here on this island, I felt like I was finally living. I was someone else—the Belle I'd always wanted to be. Carefree, fun, not constantly buried in thoughts about gene therapy breakthroughs, clinical trials, or the latest on Next-Gen Sequencing and CRISPR. For once, I wasn't caught up in the relentless pursuit of science; I was just... me .
I didn't give a flying fuck about Dr. Nicholas Augustus right now—though I should because there were two kids at Mass Gen waiting for something I couldn't give them yet. These kids were fighting Sanfilippo Syndrome, a rare and brutal genetic disorder that robbed them, bit by bit, of their ability to walk, speak, and even think. Time was a luxury they didn't have. My team had done all the work and developed a gene therapy we believed could halt or even reverse the disease's progression, but without Dr. Augustus's release of his patent, even though he'd walked away from the project years ago—we were at a dead end.
I'd come all the way to this island because I needed that signature. Without it, the therapy couldn't move forward to clinical trials. I'd already lined up a fast-track review that could get us started within weeks, but only if I got him to sign off. I couldn't let the work sit and gather dust in some office, not when there were kids who needed every day we could give them.
I shook my head as if physically getting rid of the thoughts. I deserved a few days off. Just three measly days. And it wasn't like I could get off the island and continue to look for Dr. Nicholas Augustus, right? I was trying to rationalize my guilt away.
"You okay, Babycakes?" Mick's hand slid around my waist. I liked the ease with which he touched, that I let him and felt no discomfort. It was as if we were meant to be.
What in the fuck?
"I think so," I murmured more to myself than him. "I…my thoughts wandered off to Cambridge."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Your fiancé?"
I frowned. What? Who? Oh damn! I had lied to him that I was engaged to the scientist with the patent, hadn't I ?
"Ah…well…." What the hell was I supposed to say? "I was thinking about him." That was true enough. I was.
"You feeling guilty?" he asked.
If I was engaged, I would…in fact, if I was engaged, there was no way I'd have sex with some rando, no matter how good he was with his hands.
I sighed. I had never been good at lying. Anna was damn good at it like my mother. I didn't have the gene. "I'm not engaged."
He looked surprised. "No?"
"No," I admitted in a small voice.
"Why did you say you were?"
I groaned. "Because I thought then you'd help me find Dr. Nicholas Augustus."
"Babycakes, there's no such man on this island."
My heart sank at his words. I'd taken a chance and come all this way because of Lady Arabella Augustus, who I'd been warned by several people who knew her was a bit of a flake. She'd sent me on a wild goose chase.
At least you've had some world-class orgasms, Belle, so it's all worth it. Right?
"I need a drink." I pulled away from him and went to the bar and ordered a Reef Harbor Surprise because I wasn't ready yet to learn from my mistakes.
After I made that really bad decision, the whole night felt like a dream—a sweaty, sun-soaked, tequila-fueled dream, or was it nightmare?
I danced with abandon, and when my new friend, a local, Nita, leaned over, a sly grin on her face, and dared me to jump behind the bar and play bartender, I knew I should've said no. Instead, I felt this wild spark come to life inside me.
Nita and her boyfriend Max had the kind of devil-may-care attitude that practically dared you to join them, and, well, something about Reef Harbor made it impossible to resist. I tossed Mick a grin that said don't wait up, slipped out of my heels, and joined my new, rowdy partners in crime.
Two minutes later, I was slinging back at the bar counter like I was born for it, tequila bottle in hand, shouting, "Shots on the house!" Which was, of course, absolutely untrue. My mother would have keeled over on the spot if she'd seen me there, barefoot and pouring shots for a line of laughing strangers who looked like they hadn't seen a professional bar set up in a decade. Not because she'd be appalled at my behavior, more that she'd never expect this of me.
The locals had their arms raised, mouths open like a flock of baby birds, yelling, "Over here, senorita !"
"RiRi is gonna kill us," Nita exclaimed.
"But then we can say we at least lived," I declared.
I'd never felt so absurd in my life. But my cheeks hurt from laughing. And for the first time…maybe ever, I didn't give a damn what anyone thought.
"Oh, Belle, you are dangerously good at this!" Nita cackled, wiping her face with the back of her hand as I poured her an extra shot straight from the bottle.
"You'd make a fortune in tips," Max slurred, banging his glass on the counter as he poured a line of salt along his arm, licked it clean, then winced like he'd licked a cactus. "Don't get any on RiRi's cash register, though, or we're all dead."
That was when Nita pulled out a dusty, half-busted Polaroid camera, snapped a picture of me in mid-pour, and waved it around like I was a local celebrity. "We're putting this on the Wall of Infamy." She gestured proudly toward a bulletin board filled with pictures of locals in various stages of intoxication.
I'd never been on any "wall" back in Cambridge except maybe a poster presentation at a conference, but here I was, immortalized in tequila-soaked fame.
"What da fuck is going on here?" RiRi cried out. She'd been gone for a while—but now it was obviously time to pay the piper. That was, however, not on Nita and Max's plan.
"Time to fly!" Nita yelled, grabbing my hand as Max bolted for the back exit. I snagged a bottle of tequila, laughing like a loon. I made a note to remember to compensate RiRi for any and all damage I'd done to her revenue with free shots, some of which Nita, Max, and I had consumed.
We spilled out of the back door and sprinted through a labyrinth of sandy alleys, laughing so hard I could barely see straight. It felt like I was in a bad buddy action movie—adrenaline pumping, feet pounding on the sand, and all three of us ducking under clotheslines and weaving around market stalls like we had some wild mission. Honestly, we probably looked more like drunken fools than fugitives. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was Dr. Isabelle Volnay, the one whose calendar was color-coded to perfection and who actually enjoyed clinical studies.
Yet here I was, breathless, hair wild, tearing through Reef Harbor's back alleys with Max and Nita, my "tequila gang." It felt like I was finally living that carefree life I'd always scoffed at in rom-coms.
Then, Max stumbled and grabbed my arm, pulling me into a small, walled courtyard. "Check this out," he whispered, his eyes gleaming as he pointed up at a tattered old flag hanging on a rusty pole—Reef Harbor's ancient town flag. Apparently, there was some unofficial tradition that every true local should swipe it at least once as a rite of passage.
"Oh no. No way." I laughed in disbelief. "You want us to…steal the flag?"
"Borrow," Nita corrected with a wink. "We'll return it… eventually ."
I was shaking my head even as Max started to scale the pole, laughing the whole way up. Nita and I cheered him on until he finally reached the top and started unhooking the flag. And that was about when a loud crash came from the building next door—followed by a very angry shout from a shopkeeper who'd been stacking boxes in the alley and caught the whole thing.
"Run!" Nita yelled, grabbing my arm as Max came sliding back down, the flag in his teeth, looking like the world's most ridiculous pirate. He handed me the flag to fold and we bolted back into the maze of alleys. I clutched the flag, running so hard I thought we might actually explode.
And just when I thought we'd made it, a voice behind us bellowed, "Alright, enough, you hooligans! Hands in the air!"
I turned to find Reef Harbor's biggest cop—a solid six-foot-five of glowering, no-nonsense authority—holding up his flashlight like he'd just caught me robbing a bank.
Nita and Max exchanged a look, then promptly took off into the night, abandoning me to my fate. I was teetering a little from the tequila, still clutching a bottle of it in one hand and the Reef Harbor flag in the other, staring at the policeman like a deer caught in the headlights.
I raised my hands, trying for my best innocent smile. "Uh, hi there, Officer. Beautiful night, isn't it?"
His flashlight beam was unwavering, his expression stony.
He flicked his light up to where the ragged Reef Harbor flag, now fluttering haphazardly in my hand, which was raised.
"What's your name?"
"Dr. Isabelle Volnay," I told him and then hiccupped. It was such a loud sound that I followed it with a sputtering giggle.
"Would you mind explaining why you're holding an open bottle of tequila while illegally trespassing on public property? Or why you thought it was a good idea to steal the town's flag?" he asked, voice dripping with exaggerated politeness.
I glanced up at the flag, feeling my face flush. "Oh…this? Well, it wasn't my idea, exactly… "
"Sure, sure," the cop interrupted, folding his arms, unimpressed. "It's never anyone's idea until they're caught."
"It really wasn't my idea. It was Nita and Max."
I usually didn't throw people under the bus, but I was on the wrong side of tipsy now.
He sighed heavily like he was already exhausted with me and we'd talked for less than a minute. "Disturbing the peace, public intoxication, and attempted theft of Reef Harbor property," he muttered, snapping his cuffs off his belt. "That's a long list, Miss Volnay."
My jaw dropped. "Dr. Volnay," I corrected automatically and then his words registered. "Wait, theft? We were just… borrowing the flag! Honest!"
"Nita and Max don't ever return stuff they borrow, and you should know better than to hang out with those criminals."
"I didn't know any better," I pouted. " Please , please, please , don't arrest me."
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Tell it to the judge. Now let's go—you've got a night in the cell to think it over."
He took the flag from me and then the bottle of tequila. "This is evidence," he informed me.
"It was my drink," I said glumly. Somehow this night had gone from reckless fun to public spectacle in record time.
"It's not legal to drink on the public beach," he growled.
I looked around and licked my lips. "But, officer, everyone is drinking."
"It's Chief and not officer. And you can drink at the Coral Cove 'cause it's a bar but not out on a public beach." He cuffed my hands, and I cried out.
"Hey, that hurts."
"No, it doesn't," he quipped and then asked softly, "Does it, really ? "
"No," I told him honestly. "Hey, am I going to need bail money?"
"Do you have money?"
"Loads of it."
"You're going to be in jail and since you won't see a judge right away, no bail needed tonight."
"But officer…," I peered at his name plate, "Ray Jenkins. I'm friends with RiRi and Mick."
"It's Chief Ray Jenkins. And you think knowin' the riff-raff on the island is a badge of honor? Mick Bottom is a fuckin' asshole."
My eyes widened. So far, everyone on the island seemed to love Mick. "You don't like him?"
"No."
"Why?" I asked as he led me away in cuffs toward his vehicle.
"He fucked my fiancée."
Of course he did!
"But she fucked him, too," I protested.
"Everyone fucks Mick. Have you seen him?"
"Up close and personal," I said with a broad smile.
"He took advantage of my girl."
"I highly doubt it."
" Whatever . You're spendin' the night coolin' your heels," he growled and then got me into his car, doing the whole pushing my head down as they show in the movies thing.
"So, you're Bottom's latest troublemaker?" He drove the car, and I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the grill of the police car.
"I'm not his . I'm my own person." Hiccup. "But I may be a troublemaker if by that you mean spirited tequila enthusiast, then…guilty as charged."
"Fucking tourists," he muttered.
A few minutes later, I was being marched through the front door of Reef Harbor's only police station, barefoot, sticky with lime juice, and now officially with a record.
Dr. Isabelle Volnay would be freaking out that she was getting arrested. Drunk Belle was only mildly irritated.
"Will there be a bed in the cell?" I asked. "I'm really tired."
"Fucking drunk tourists," he muttered.