19. Pippi
Regret tasted like rancid eggs, especially when it flavored my tongue first thing in the morning.
It wasn’t visiting Alistair that I regretted. It’d been, to use his phrase, lovely , to talk with him, even if I did sacrifice a night of sleep for it. He was sweet, and he’d been so happy to have the company, which had made me happy. Because I hated to see such a kind creature so sad.
The regret was for the secrecy. The fact that I hadn’t yet told Jackson about Alistair. That I chickened out every time I searched for the words. It was awful , what I was doing to him.
“Babe. Hey.”
I blinked when Jackson waved his hand in front of my face.
I’d been blankly staring, watching people shuffle to and from the breakfast buffet without absorbing any of it.
“Earth to Pippi. You with me?” he asked.
I dropped my hand from where it’d been (barely) holding my lead-weighted head upright on the table and beamed at him. “Of course.”
He raised an eyebrow as he speared his fork into his fried eggs. “Didn’t seem like you were.”
“Well, I might’ve gotten a little distracted with people watching,” I said. “And ogling up the premium buffet.”
Jackson twisted, shooting his eyes over to the row of black-clothed tables on the other side of the room. “Yeah. Their stuff does look good, doesn’t it?” He turned back to his slightly rubbery fried egg with a sigh.
Brew & Bites had two breakfast buffets. The premium one was at the far end of the cavernous, high-raftered room, wrapped around the big arched windows that overlooked the foggy path to the docks.
That buffet looked and smelled delectable.
Cooks worked behind the black-clothed tables to prepare waffles, meats, eggs, and fish, while baristas hustled to keep up with the orders for cappuccinos, lattes, and other specialty coffees.
People had to wait in lines for their meals, sure, since all the cooking was done over old coal burners, but everything they received was fresh and piping hot.
And once they’d finished with their five-star breakfast, they could mosey back up to peruse the dessert table, where fruits and breakfast pastries were scattered in a colorful array.
I would’ve gotten quite pleasantly plump this week, if we’d had access to that buffet.
Sadly (or maybe fortunately), we didn’t.
It was for premium guests—the spattering of people who were willing to pay extra to get the good food.
The rest of us riffraff got the regular buffet at the opposite end of the room, nestled against the wall between the bathrooms and the staff lounge.
And we had some scrumptious fare to choose from too, like muffins, bread, cereal, and a hot bar that had rubbery eggs and sausage.
And our coffee was super-duper fancy: tepid brown water that trickled from old carafes.
All that said, it wasn’t a bad breakfast. A regular old continental fare. But it sure felt like slop when that other glorious buffet was in eyesight, which was by design—to tease people with the better food until they forked over the money.
It was an excellent marketing ploy.
“Babe!” Jackson snapped his fingers. “I lost you again.”
“Sorry.” I leaned back in my chair, trying to straighten myself up, but I cracked my shoulders against the unyielding wood and winced, sending my fork sliding out of my slackened fingers. It made an awful clatter when it pinged off the end of my plate.
Jackson frowned. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
He pursed his lips.
“Really,” I insisted. “I feel fine. Just a little groggy this morning.”
Jackson cut another small sliver off his egg. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”
“Positive.” I plucked my muffin off the plate and tore myself a piece, eating it to prove my point.
“Shit, babe!” Jackson abruptly dropped his fork and lurched across the table, snatching my right wrist and shaking the muffin out of my grasp. “When did you do this?” He turned my hand over, exposing the scrape the rock had gouged into my palm last night.
I wriggled my arm, silently asking him to release me.
He tightened his hold.
“I slipped in the shower.” The brambly lie scraped the top layer off my tongue as it rolled out of my mouth.
“You fell?”
“No. Nothing like that. I just…y’know…” I raised my other hand, miming me bracing myself against the wall. “The tile there’s kinda coarse, so it scraped my hand up.”
His fingers dug into my wrist. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a full fall. Did you get dizzy or something? The shower’s not that slippery, with the mat in there.”
“I’m fine, Jackson. I just slipped.”
Guilt caged my heart between its spindly teeth and bit until the organ gushed blood.
I couldn’t even feel Jackson’s emotions when he released my arm and finished his egg. I was too busy drowning in my own bloody shame.
“You’re s ure ? Because I don’t know if we can swing another trip to the clinic.”
“We don’t have to.” I forced another bite of muffin down and reached across the table, brushing Jackson’s knuckles. “Honest. I’m okay. I just need some extra coffee, some sugar”—I held up the muffin in a cheers gesture—“and maybe some fun, and I’ll be right as rain. So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“Well, I’d wanted to take the boat tour, but that’s already gone.
They only run one a day, and only open bookings the day of, so those spots go quick.
There’re some other tours, but…” Jackson tapped his fork against his plate.
“We’re gonna have to be a bit picky about what we do.
That clinic ate such a big chunk of our funds. ”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault they charge an arm and leg.” Jackson gusted a heavy breath.
But it feels like my fault.
If I’d been a better swimmer, or if I’d just put my foot down and said no when the skinny-dipping didn’t feel right, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
I hated this. How strained we felt, with money bearing down on our shoulders, and guilt and disappointment creating a toxic plume over our heads.
Around us, the room was filled with the sound of laughter, as happy tourists stuffed their faces and fervently discussed their plans for the day.
But there was no laughter at our table. And seeing dismay creasing Jackson’s brow and forming spindly lines around his mouth hurt my heart.
“Well, how about we just walk around the island today? Do some exploring on our own? It could be fun,” I added when he frowned. “Melany and Sarah did that yesterday, and they saw all sorts of things.”
“Who?” Jackson asked.
“Melany and Sarah. Our neighbors. The ones I had tea with yesterday.”
“Ah. Yeah. The odd couple.” Jackson chuckled
“I wouldn’t call them that,” I said. “They’re sweet.”
“You think everyone is sweet. And, don’t get me wrong, I love that about you, and they probably are very nice. I’ll give you that. But they are a bit odd, yeah?”
It was my turn to frown. “What makes them odd, exactly?”
“Well”—Jackson leaned back in his chair—“you know…” He waved his hand.
And the only thing I knew at that moment was that he didn’t have an explanation.
But before he could scrounge for an answer, a shrill DING-DING-DING filled the room. The sound of an old dinner bell, the sort that came from a metal triangle.
An immaculately dressed woman who worked the front desk of the lobby during the day strode around the room, banging the metal stick against the dinner bell.
She was a tiny wisp of a thing, but she had a personality that made her seem like a giant—a no-nonsense, straight-backed, I-may-be-small-but-I-can-still-kick-your-butt vibe.
And she was throwing that off in waves as she shushed anyone who still whispered or giggled.
“I apologize,” she said, “for disturbing your meal. I promise I’ll only take a moment of your time.
” The dinner bell made a soft, echoing ding as she tucked it under her arm.
“Unfortunately, all tours scheduled for this afternoon have been canceled. You will be refunded”—her voice rose above the unhappy gurgling—“and the tours will be rescheduled. Please understand, this is an extraordinary event—we have never canceled tours before on the isle, and you can rest assured knowing this will not happen again during your stay. We have some special guests arriving this afternoon, which necessitated the cancellation of the day’s itineraries. ”
More murmurings filled the restaurant, but there was an air of intrigue now.
Jackson shifted in his seat, his eagerness reached across the table to lug me in the gut.
“Mr. Rune Bloodworth will be arriving at noon,” the woman concluded.
That name meant nothing to me. But evidently it should have, because the chittering in the room increased. And Jackson sat so straight in his chair, he looked like he’d grown to a man twice his height.
“He is bringing several delegates,” the woman prattled on, “to celebrate the five-year anniversary of the isle’s opening.
We do apologize for not making you aware of these events sooner, but there is good news…
Quiet please.” She waggled the dinner bell when the overlapping voices threatened to drown her out.
“Please, a moment more of your time is all I ask. Since you are our esteemed guests, and your visit overlaps with the isle’s anniversary, Mr. Bloodworth has ordered a feast for this evening.
Every guest is invited to attend—free of charge. ”
“Thankfully she added that last bit in, huh?” I turned to Jackson with a soft laugh. “It wouldn’t have been very good news if we’d had to pay a thousand bucks a head to go to this dinner.”
Jackson wasn’t even looking at me, he was intently watching the woman. His palpable excitement rocketed broiling, feverish waves into me.
Then she waved her arm, sending the dinner bell chiming pleasantly and said, “That’s all. Enjoy your meals.” And he deflated, as though he hadn’t taken a breath during her announcement.
A wave of zeal rammed into me then, from Jackson and just about everyone in the room. Slamming into me with enough force to steal my breath for a heartbeat. Two. Three.
Panic curdled under the happy current.
My panic.
Happiness was a wondrous emotion, but it could be woven into a heavy blanket when there was too much of it. And that blanket was stifling me.
Sweat dribbled down my back and formed sticky puddles under my thighs. Beneath the white-washed jeans I wore, my skin prickled. My hand moved, joggling, trying to bounce off some of the excess emotion so I could breathe.
“Babe, you look like you’re trying to fly.” Jackson’s chuckling voice sounded like it was miles away.
I tucked my hands between my legs and braced, focusing on taking shallow, steady breaths, until the feelings ebbed. “This Rune Bloodworth, is he a celebrity?” I managed to ask.
Jackson laughed and shook his head. “Pippi, I love you, but sometimes I swear you live under a rock. How do you not know who he is?”
I shrugged.
“He’s the owner of Magix.”
“Oh.” That name rang a bell. Magix, after all, was the corporation that shredded any business, Sorcerer-run or otherwise, that offered services for Standies. Like my client at work, VitalTech.
“Are they having a company retreat?” I swiveled my gaze around the undulating masses of people in the restaurant. “Seems an odd place for them to pick. I never hear of any Sorcerers vacationing here. Have you?”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Magix owns Niverwick Isle.”
“They do?”
“Yes!”
“But I thought they were all in on that ‘Sorcerer for hire’ stuff. That’s what’s putting one of my clients at risk.”
“They are, ” Jackson said. “But they also have subsidiaries and conglomerates. And one of them is Niverwick. So, yeah, he might not directly work in the tourism sector, but Rune Bloodworth owns this island.”
“Ooookay.”
“And it’s huge that he’s coming here.” Jackson jiggled his knee under the table, too giddy to be still.
“I’d heard some rumors, gossip stuff, mostly, and I’d hoped they were true, but he’s never been to the island before.
And we’re going to have dinner with him.
” He thumped his palms against the table.
“This could be an opportunity . Rune Bloodworth is a genius. They say two minutes with him—just two minutes—and you can get doors opened for you that might’ve stayed closed your entire life. ”
“Well, sure, he’s a Sorcerer, right? They can do whatever they want.”
“He’s not the richest CEO in the world just because he’s a Sorcerer. He knows how to create opportunity, and he can do it for other people. The stories I’ve heard… And for him to come here…” His eyes glimmered as he clapped his hand against his thigh.
Disquiet crawled inside my chest. I didn’t like this, and I couldn’t pinpoint why. Something just didn’t feel right.
But I swallowed the doubt down and forced a smile on my face. “I guess you’re thinking of approaching him?”
“Um, yes !” Jackson said. “This could be …Well, if I get those two minutes, everything could change for us. Everything. ”