7. Muster Drill #2
“Sleep off the booze, and you can go swimming,” he suggested, carefully trying to take the champagne from her. She quickly cradled it to her chest. He didn’t press, knowing that patience would be key to getting her back to the suite. “Can’t I have a drink?”
“I thought you didn’t drink while you were working? I hate champagne anyway, but it’s all they had down here.” She happily offered him the bottle. “I’ve never even been drunk before. I was only ever allowed a sip or two at award ceremonies.”
“You’ve never been drunk? Ever?” Isaiah brought the bottle to his lips and pretended to sip – he just wanted to put her at ease, and she had drunk enough for the both of them.
Given her short stature and apparent inexperience with alcohol, he didn’t know how she was still conscious.
He set the bottle between them, but she didn’t reach for it again.
She hiccupped and shook her head. “Never. Aunt Martha had eyes everywhere, and she warned me about the importance of staying clear-headed and never losing control of myself.” She wagged a finger at him.
“But I can drink whatever I want, and eat what I want, and do whatever I want. Like, go swimming at two am. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be twenty-six years old and have no control over your life? Well, not anymore. Now it’s my time.
” She kicked again, causing a big splash.
Have no control over her life? Her late aunt must have kept a firm grip on her. Isaiah felt a surge of protectiveness. He didn’t think her sober self would like her confessing too much, so he settled for an easy question.
“If you could eat anything right now, what would you like?”
“Strawberries.” She beamed. “I’d live on them if I could. Strawberry milkshakes, but I don’t think Room Service will deliver to the spa.”
He was sure guests could request anything on the Midas , no matter how ridiculous, and they’d oblige. A strawberry milkshake was simple enough.
“Why don’t we head back to the suite, and we can see about getting you that milkshake? Mina’s waiting for us, and she was worried when you weren’t at the muster point.”
“Why would Mina worry? We’re completely safe now.” Poppy sighed. “I’ve a hunky, chunky detective to keep me safe from all the big, bad wolves.”
“Hunky chunky?”
“I thought detectives were meant to be coffee addicts who were too busy for the gym and all scruffy, grumpy, and sceptical?” She squeezed his bicep and smirked.
“That’s the stereotype, I guess. Unfortunately, I do have a caffeine problem, and I often forget to shave when I’m engrossed in a case.
But working out at home helps me think through ideas and cases and lifts my mood.
I can be grumpy and sceptical, but you’d have to ask my desk partner.
It probably depends on how much coffee I’ve had or which case I’m working on. ”
“All work and no fun – I know the feeling,” Poppy sighed. “I bet you can’t remember the last time you smiled.”
“I do, actually. Just a moment ago, when you called me a hunky chunky detective.”
“No! I didn’t,” she gasped. The alcohol was clearly affecting her short-term memory.
“I must have heard you wrong. But thank you for not reducing me to my looks.”
“I’d never do that. I know how it feels to be judged solely by what I do and how I look.
I found some peace here because I couldn’t stand the whispers at that bar after Mina left,” she said, pointing above them.
“Whispers seem to follow me wherever I go. Right now, the topic of choice is my boarding breakup.”
“He’s an arsehole for leaving you like that, and you have every right to be upset,” he replied.
“Upset?” She snorted. “More like disappointed that I got involved with Joshua in the first place. Besides, with my aunt gone, I no longer need him as a buffer...” She paused, clearly realizing she might be about to reveal too much.
“Buffer?” Isaiah prompted, and she rubbed her eyes.
“Ignore me. He’s gone, and I’ve never felt better.”
Isaiah might believe she was relieved he was gone, given that he’d heard about Joshua’s plans to kill her. But that type of betrayal had to sting, even if their relationship had been some kind of arrangement.
“Can I help you up now? I don’t fancy diving in after you,” he said, changing the subject.
Poppy hesitated for a split second before offering him her hand, which he happily accepted.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed and that milkshake.” He helped her stand so she didn’t lose her balance.
“Thank you, but just so you know, I could’ve made it back to the room myself,” she said. “I can handle myself.”
“I don’t doubt it. I’m only a helping hand,” Isaiah said, suppressing his smirk. It wasn’t her ability to take care of herself that he doubted, but more whether she could walk in a straight line.
“How about a piggyback? That way you can get to bed faster,” he offered. If he let her walk back to her suite, it would take half the day, and he didn’t have the patience to herd her to bed.
“I can’t let you do that.” She concealed a smile with her hands. “You’re here to protect me, not babysit me. It wouldn’t be appropriate,” she added, though she looked tempted.
“Like you said, you’re free to do whatever you want. Who has the right to judge?”
“Saving a damsel in distress, how chivalrous – but we have a problem,” she mused. “You need to bend down.”
He knelt on the tiles, and she squealed happily as she wrapped one leg around him, followed by the other.
“Comfortable, Princess?” he asked, standing up and gripping her thighs so she didn’t fall.
“You could do with some softening.” She massaged his shoulder muscles, and he shook his head. He hoped she would remember this when she sobered up – her mortification might make her more pliable. Sarcastic, sassy, sexy, and murderous?He was beginning to regret taking this job.
“Want to walk back to the room?” he threatened, but she shook her head and buried her face in his neck.
“Lead the way,” she mumbled, resting her hands on his chest.
“Can you press your hand to the door?” Isaiah asked a few minutes later, struggling to open the suite while holding her.
Poppy’s soft breathing indicated she had drifted off on his shoulder. He glanced at her hands and realised she wasn’t wearing her smartwatch. Twisting toward the door, careful not to drop her, he tried his hand on the handle, but a red X appeared, barring their entry. It had worked earlier.
He shook her gently, and she groaned. “What?”
“Where’s your wristband?” he asked, hoping it was in one of the pockets on her robe.
“I had it when I came back to change into my bikini and my robe. Maybe I left it inside with my bracelet because I didn’t want to lose it in the pool,” she explained.
At least she hadn’t left her bracelet on purpose so he couldn’t track her. He really didn’t want to go back to the spa or the bar to search for her watch.
“We can go through my room,” he said, opening the door to his space and carefully setting Poppy down on her unsteady feet. Inside his room, he tried to open the adjoining door to hers, but it was locked from the inside.
“I don’t remember locking it before we left,” he remarked, wondering if Mina had secured it.
“Maybe Mina returned, and our smartwatches won’t let us in if the room is occupied.”
“Mina?” Isaiah called as Poppy sat on his bed, but there was no response.
He walked down the hall and tried knocking on Mina’s door, but again, there was silence.
Maybe she had fallen asleep listening to something again and couldn’t hear him.
“She’s probably still searching for you, or has passed out in your room. ”
Poppy yawned and lay back on his bed.
“I’ll call Patrice to open the door,” he began, but she shook her head.
“They’ll take too long. Just let me stay here for a bit,” she mumbled, snuggling into his pillow.
Isaiah rubbed his neck. He was tired, but he would clearly have to make do with the armchair until Mina returned.
Poppy leaned on her elbows as he pulled out the chair. “You don’t have to sleep there; there’s plenty of room for both of us on the bed.” She stared up at him as though trying to read his mind.
“It wouldn’t be professional,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
“It’s not like you’re a real bodyguard; no one is going to report you.”
She knelt up on the bed so they were face to face, but almost lost her balance. Isaiah caught her waist to stop her from toppling over onto him.
“See, you can’t seem to keep your hands off me,” she teased, resting her hands on his shoulders. He still wasn’t sure if she was flirting or testing him.
“I don’t want you to fall off the bed,” he told her as her fingers caressed the sides of his neck and she stared at his lips.
“Most men wouldn’t think twice if I asked them to share a bed with me,” Poppy said, staring at him like he was a puzzle to be solved.
He clenched his teeth as she stroked his chest. The realisation that he definitely would not be averse to this situation under different circumstances was alarming. “Then you clearly haven’t been with decent men.”
She pouted. “Unfortunately not. But you could change that.” She inched closer, eyes half-closed, and he could almost taste the champagne on her lips. He needed to shut this down quickly.
Suddenly, Poppy’s eyes snapped open and she sprang up from the bed. Before he could ask what was wrong, she shoved him aside and ran to the bathroom with a hand over her mouth, slamming the door shut. Isaiah let out a sigh of relief. Divine intervention.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he called. “I’m right outside.” He wasn’t particularly comfortable with vomit, but he needed to make sure she was ok.
“This is so embarrassing. Please don’t come in,” Poppy pleaded through the door.
“I don’t want you to pass out in there.”
“You’re such –a pain – in the ass,” she replied between heaves.
“So is falling asleep on tile floors,” he retorted.
He couldn’t hear Poppy’s response, but he guessed she was cursing him out.
“Do you need some water?” Isaiah asked gently.
After a short silence, the bathroom door cracked open slightly, revealing a manicured hand. “Please,” she whispered.
“Here you go. Just take small sips,” he said, handing her a chilled bottle from the minibar.
“You’re so bossy,” she mumbled, before closing the door again. Thankfully, she didn’t lock it.
“Sure you don’t need me to hold your hair back?” he asked, chuckling.
He didn’t need to guess what she called him through the door.
“Well, I’m here if you need me,” he sighed, settling back into the armchair by the door.