Chapter 11
A little late to Ladies-Only Power Couple Orientation, the wave pool
While Geeves cleared their breakfast dishes, Gabby walked down a rock-lined path that she wasn’t entirely familiar with and dialed Granny.
No one had noticed that she hadn’t turned over her cell phone, and she intended to keep it that way.
A week of no communication with her family was a non-starter.
“Hey, Granny, how is everything?”
“It’s—” The line fuzzed out.
“What was that?”
“It’s… uh… card… Kyle.”
Damn it. The signal was almost nonexistent.
“Let me call you back in a second.” Gabby faced a crossroads in the path. One direction went up. Maybe if she climbed higher, she’d get a signal, like in one of those lost-in-the-wilderness shows.
She climbed higher and higher, keeping half an eye on the time.
All she had to do was check in with Granny, and then she’d run the phone back to their cottage for safe keeping.
After reaching the top of a rise, she emerged at a scenic overlook where the view of the beach, the cottages, and the ocean spread below her like a postcard.
If she wasn’t undercover using a false name, she’d take a selfie.
This was a fantasy that she could not bring home.
Not the marriage, the man, or even a selfie.
It’s not like she could wear a S?o Miguel T-shirt home from “Cleveland.” What happened in the Azores truly had to stay in the Azores.
But that begged the question: If she couldn’t tell Justin everything in excruciating detail, did it even happen?
Or maybe it would be a special secret for Markus and her to share.
Staring at the Atlantic, she hit “Granny” in her recent calls list.
“Gab—” Granny’s voice turned to fuzz after one syllable. The signal was still shit. She tried again. Still nothing. She sent a text:
Is everything OK?
The message couldn’t be delivered. Damn it.
She shoved the phone in the pocket of her leggings and let her mind wander to its favorite topic: Markus. Her skin flushed as she recalled the way he’d undressed her with his eyes, not that he’d had to do much work in these pants.
“Hello?” A voice called around the bend.
“Um… hello.” Gabby took a few steps and peered around a bend in the path.
There he was. Genesis, because the man needed no introduction, reclined in a moderately-sized wave pool overlooking the ocean.
His legs were kicked out, and his arms spread wide over the rocky ledge into which the pool had been carved.
Or maybe it was just good concrete work.
Either way, Architectural Digest should do a thing.
Men’s Health should probably do a thing too.
Big G’s muscles were a sight to behold. Gabby couldn’t remember all the names—traps, lats, biceps, deltoids—but he had all of them, plus some to spare.
His hair was piled on top of his head in a messy man bun.
The braided beard gave her pause, but if anyone could pull it off, it was this guy.
The Big G was primal sex appeal written in easy-to-understand caveman scrawl.
“I like your pool,” Gabby said. She said it in the same voice she would use to compliment Janice at parent pickup about her new Kia Sportswagon.
“The waves are attuned to my natural energy. My heartbeat powers the water.”
Well, that sounded like some cult leader BS.
“Would you like to get in?” he asked.
“Umm…” Was this a come-on? He had admitted to cheating on Jasmine, but “only with his body.”
Unsure of herself, Gabby shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
A second ago, she had felt like a goddess.
Now she was out of her element, a mere mortal in the presence of a Greek God.
No wonder the Big G ran a cult. What else could someone like him do?
He probably couldn’t walk through a grocery store without causing a stir.
“You’re welcome to join me,” he said She was about to say “No!” when the righteous indignation caught in her throat. Her entire job at this resort was to gather information on this man and his organization. Naked hot tubbing with the cult leader was exactly what she should be doing.
Damn it. She took a breath and steeled herself. If Jamie Lee Curtis could rip all the bows off her dress, slick back her hair, and dance for Arnold, Gabby could peel off her sportswear and skinny dip with this fool.
Do it doucement. Do it very slowly. Phil would sometimes say Arnie’s line to her while she was getting ready for bed, usually while she was tripping out of sweatpants and into an old T-shirt. It was a joke.
Primly, even to her own ears, she said, “I have to be at Ladies Orientation, but maybe I could squeeze in some…” How was she going to get these pants off? She might as well try to striptease out of a scuba suit.
Her mind flashed to Markus. He had slept on the couch last night. She shouldn’t even feel guilty about getting naked for G, but she did.
Did he want her to dance?
Maybe just some light swaying in her underwear and bra top. Standing on one foot, she tried to get one shoe off. She hopped on one foot until she lost her balance and had to try again while one of the world’s biggest action stars watched.
“If only I had a shoehorn,” he said, taking in her troubles.
A shoehorn—Gabby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Good thing she hadn’t gone into stripping. Because she wasn’t pulling a Jamie Lee, she made a joke. “Loss of balance is one of the first signs of aging. I’m middle-aged, you know,” she corrected.
Why had she said that? “Well, thirty-five isn’t quite middle-aged.”
He suppressed a grin. “I’m older than you.”
That’s when it hit her. The Big G was sweet, maybe not all the time, but at least today. And he was sad. It looked like it took heavy machinery to hold the corners of his mouth up for a simple smile.
Recognition dawned on his face, a little late, considering she was already getting naked. “You’re Lil’ G’s girl, aren’t you?”
“Huh?”
“George’s my dude.” With a sly smile, G said, “That man cannot stop talking about you.”
“Really?” She looked up from putting her socks in her shoes to keep them clean. There’s a reason strippers don’t wear athletic socks.
And she remembered that she was person first, spy second. Really, the entire reason that she’d been successful on her last mission was because she got to know people.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Her compression leggings were just below her belly button and squishing her muffin top out in a way that she’d prefer they didn’t. Luckily, G wasn’t even looking.
At her inquiry into his welfare, he blew out a breath. “I feel like I’m losing on every front. Jasmine is mad, and Power Couple 2 isn’t going anywhere. Money is tight.” He sank farther into his personal pool. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be supporting you.”
“Everyone needs support.” Gabby looked down at her shaping underwear with a supportive stomach panel. “I’m not sure if I wore the right underwear for skinny dipping.”
“Are you taking your pants off?” he asked, his gaze deepening into a confused squint.
“No, of course not!” She laughed uncomfortably and pulled her pants back up with a snap. “I thought you asked… never mind. I must have heard you wrong.”
Just then, footsteps approached. A bigger audience—this was not going well for Gabby.
“Gia?”
At the sight of Markus, Gabby’s soul departed her body (in order to survive the intense and overwhelming shame).
He didn’t say “What in the hell are you doing?” but from the look on his face, that’s what he was thinking. He had definitely seen her pulling her pants back up.
“George, my man!” Genesis called. “You wanna join me?”
She was such an idiot. Apparently, Genesis invited everyone to hop in the pool with him. It hadn’t been a sexual thing. It had just been a thing.
“Rain check,” Markus said, “You’re supposed to be leading orientation right now. I came to get you.”
“Really?” G glanced at his dive watch. “I’m not ready. Can you give everyone a welcome? Tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sure thing, bro.”
While G got himself together, Gabby and Markus made their way down the path. Markus raised an eyebrow, “So… what’d I walk in on? You have something to tell me?”
Gabby’s face burned. “He asked me to come into the pool. I was going to say no, but then I figured hot tubbing with the cult leader was exactly what I should be doing. He was obviously naked, and I’m wearing athleisure.” Gabby covered her face with her hands. “What was I thinking?”
“Good instincts. You did the right thing.”
“Really?” Gabby glanced up with disbelief.
“Really.”
“Did you see me trying to get out of those pants, though?”
“To be fair, who could get out of those pants?”
She laughed. “I know, right? You’re probably going to have to cut me out of them later.”
He glanced her way, and his lips parted as if to offer just that, but she quickly looked toward the trail, too overwhelmed to look him in the face. For a woman who wasn’t comfortable in a two-piece, she was getting in over her head.
“You just came out the gates a little hot. Tone it down and blend. Ladies Orientation should be easy.”
Gabby took a breath. “I’ve got this. No one will even know that I’m there.”
“Just remember to keep your clothes on.”
She deserved that.