3. Woody
WOODY
“You’re kidding, right?” A brunette scoffs.
“Do I look like I’m kidding, Darling?” Declan replies with a chuckle.
Her mouth drops open in outrage as he tilts the wicker basket toward her.
“My office might need me. And I speak to my family every day,” she argues.
“Rules are for everyone,” Declan says smoothly, somehow managing to make it sound like he’s flirting.
She snaps her eyes to her friend beside her, like she’s personally to blame, before reluctantly depositing her cell phone into the basket.
“There. Not so hard, was it? You can have it back in a couple of days, once our initial induction process is over. Here, I’ll even put mine in so it’s fair.”
Declan drops his own phone into the basket.
“A couple of days?” she splutters.
Declan chuckles again. He’s used to the city tourists. The ones who come thinking the retreats are a fancy spa vacation.
I turn my attention away from the new group of adults sitting in a circle in the center of the communal camp area and back to the firewood I’m bundling up beside one of the huts.
My phone chimes with a text in the back pocket of my jeans and I pull it out, grunting and stuffing it away again.
This is why you should never let a girl you meet in a bar borrow your phone to call a cab.
She clearly called her own phone too, to get my number.
Maybe she thought I’d be happy to hear from her, suggesting we ‘meet up for a fun drink’.
Code for: You can fuck my brains out after, how’s that sound?
Sounds like another offer I’m going to pass off to Declan. He’s good-looking and a cocky enough fucker to pull it off. Within five minutes of him showing up instead of me, the girl’s forgotten who I even am. Last time, the girl in question brought a friend with her too.
Fucker wore a shit-eating grin for a week after that night. Says he still owes me.
“How come he gets his phone?”
I crane my neck in the direction of the indignant voice.
The spunky brunette is pointing at me like it’s going to help her case.
“Because Woody over there is helping us out after our usual activities host got stung by a Box jellyfish. So until he’s back, Woody’s here. And the man needs his phone.”
Declan throws a wink my way. I know his horny little fuckboy ears will have pricked up at the sound of my text. I barely get any calls or texts, except from random girls who somehow get my number.
There’s no one else who’d want to contact me.
The brunette narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her thin white vest. Even her fucking nipples are hard and pointing at me like they’re fantasizing about gouging my eyes out given the chance.
“My office in New York might need to get hold of me,” she tells Declan, still eyeing me like it’s all my fault. “And my father will worry if I miss his calls.”
I snort, which only seems to infuriate her further.
“Didn’t you tell your office you’re on vacation?” Declan asks.
“Yes. They know where I am. But I’m heading up this project and we’re—”
“Excellent. So they can contact the hotel’s main reception if there’s an emergency. Same as your father will be contacted if there are any issues.” Declan grins and places the wicker basket on the ground behind him.
“But—”
He claps, cutting her off.
“Right, I have an introduction exercise for us all to do.”
She’s still glaring at me through slitted eyes, aiming her pent-up frustration at me, realizing she won’t get anywhere with Declan.
I gather up some pieces of firewood, holding her glare and matching it with one much darker. I bet little Miss New York City isn’t used to being told what to do. She probably wants to go crying to her daddy about the unfairness of it all.
Her jaw clenches like she wants to march over here and snatch my phone off me herself.
I casually take it back out of my pocket and open up the text from unknown bar girl. A pair of infuriated eyes watch me, so I take my time texting back, arranging when to send Declan to meet up with her. I even add a couple of little kisses at the end of the text to prolong my display.
Her reply is instant, chiming out like a leery cat call at a strip show.
New York City’s staring at me as I glance up from my screen. Her glare notches up ten degrees as I hold her gaze. Her lips twist into a sulky little pout.
I tilt my chin up with a clear ‘fuck off’ motion and turn my back on her, pocketing my phone.