CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 19
LIBBY EMERGED FROM HER PYTHONIC COCOON IN A CONCERNINGLY good mood.
“She’s freaking me out,” Coco whispered a little while later, as Libby lounged on the balcony looking more relaxed than Ness had seen her in . . . ever. Libby’s face was tilted to the sun, her eyes closed. A small smile played across her still-pale lips.
At the kitchen counter, Ian was prepping unappetizing pieces of leftover fish to use for bait. He followed Coco’s gaze to Libby, whose toes were now tapping to unheard music.
“How long was she unconscious? Do you think she’s got brain damage? One of those things where a person has a near-death experience and their brain structure is altered and they have a totally different personality?”
“She should probably see a doctor,” Ness said, wincing as Coco yanked another shard of glass from her palm with needle-like tweezers and let it clink into the small pile beside them.
“She’s not the only one,” Coco suggested.
Ian cut pink-tinged fish into inexpert chunks. He’d been oddly quiet all day. “Should someone go . . . talk to her?” he asked, voice husky from disuse.
“Not it,” Ness blurted.
Hayes was the obvious choice, in Ness’s mind. Even, calm, good at the nurturing stuff. But he’d gone with Daisy and Tyler to figure out if they could butcher and cook python steaks for dinner. A thought that made Ness feel more than a little nauseous, despite the hunger gnawing at her belly.
“Where the hell is Bradley? This is his fault. It’s only fair he deals with the fallout.” Coco snuck another look at Libby on the balcony and pulled a face. “Creepy as fuck.”
Ness hadn’t told anyone about the letter, only saying that Libby had been processing some upsetting Bradley-related information.
“I haven’t seen him all day,” Ness said. She looked at Ian. “Have you?”
“Why are you asking me?” He sounded affronted.
“Because you guys share a mattress?”
“Yeah, no. I kicked him out two nights ago.”
Coco stopped dabbing Ness’s arm with the dregs of the gin and stared at him.
“What? He’s a spooner, which is fine, but I kept overheating.” Scooping up the fish and dumping it onto an empty coconut shell they’d found washed up on the beach—disappointingly, the Ginger Cay palms didn’t seem to be in nut-producing mode—Ian said, “I think he’s been bunking upstairs or something. Anyway, I haven’t seen him since last night. He was doing his ‘staring moodily at the night-darkened sea’ routine when I turned in. I think Daisy was still out there with him, though. Maybe she knows?”
Ness felt a twinge of unease.
“Yeah, let’s ask her when they’re done with the . . . dinner.” She swallowed her disgust.
Coco sat back and rolled her shoulders. She poured a generous shot of gin into a grimy mason jar, leaving less than an inch in the bottle, and threw it back in a single gulp.
“Medicinal,” she said in response to Ness’s raised eyebrow, smacking her lips. “Anyway, he’s probably out there doing something dumb to prove a point. We’ll find him on the beach with a raft of woven tree roots and rat tails or something, ready to sail out of here.”
Ness hoped that was true, but it was hard to ignore that they were all wandering around willy-nilly and largely unaccounted for. Sleeping by the fire, Ness had spent the previous night almost entirely unsupervised, which, in retrospect, may not have been the best plan. Although, now that she thought about it, there had been an unusual amount of foot traffic on the beach through the night. Midnight walks and people “just checking in.” At the time, she’d assumed they’d wanted to keep an eye on her out of consideration, but now . . . had they been monitoring her?
Libby shuffled toward them, moving gingerly, as might be expected of someone who had recently been an involuntary pig-in-a-deadly-blanket.
“Ness, can I talk to you? Alone?”
“Um, sure?”
Coco’s bony elbow nudged her in the ribs, urging her up, as her body insisted it would be best to stay put. Maybe curl up on the floor right there and have a small snooze, avoiding all potential conflict through the power of sleep.
She slipped off the barstool and followed Libby out to a pair of lounge chairs that were still partially shaded by the house behind them.
“What’s up?” she asked, lacing her fingers to stop herself from fidgeting.
“I still think you suck, and I don’t want to be your friend.” It was nice to know they hadn’t completely lost the Libby they knew and, well, accepted, if perhaps not universally loved.
Libby stretched out her legs and wiggled her chipped-polished toes in the dappled sunlight.
“We’ve all gone through extremely unpleasant, life-changing situations, Ness. If we treat the people around us as if they’re disposable, we’re quickly left with nothing but our own thoughts and regrets.”
Ness nodded noncommittally, choosing not to point out that alienating those around you with unwarranted criticism and snide remarks wasn’t much better.
“But,” Libby continued, “I realized some things today.” She started to wrap her arms around her body, winced, and lay them loosely at her sides instead.
“It’s possible I’ve been holding on to things that aren’t worth holding anymore. And, apparently, when you grip something too tightly, you can break the parts of it that matter most.” She looked at Ness, really looked at her for what felt like the first time since this whole thing started. “Did you know a python breaks the bones of its prey so it’s easier to swallow?” Libby didn’t wait for a reply, but Ness was pretty sure her expression communicated how little she wanted to dwell on that tidbit of info.
Libby’s gaze drifted out over the island. When she spoke again, it was quietly. “I think, and maybe this is the shock talking, but I might have a tendency to be a bit of an emotional python.” She smiled wryly, and shifted to pull something out of her back pocket. She fanned the air with Bradley’s folded letters.
“Do you think he was going to tell me?”
Ness considered this. “I think he wants to avoid causing you pain.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
“I’ve kept some version of us—Bradley and me—in my head for so long. It never made sense. We hate each other now just as much as we ever loved what we had. I don’t know why I care so much. I could have snagged a billionaire by now if I hadn’t been so busy plotting my elaborate and satisfying revenge and our subsequent remarriage.” She shifted in her seat and looked down at the pages in her hand.
“Turns out, being emotionally shattered and then almost eaten on the same day really gives you perspective.” Libby looked at Ness consideringly. “Another thing I may have been holding on to is a slightly—and I’ll stress the slightly—overblown sense of betrayal. You were, and I have to assume still are, on some level, incapable of facing your problems. But you did tackle a snake the size of Minnesota for me, so I guess I kind of owe you. Consider forgiveness your repayment. Even-steven.”
Ness snorted, laughing. “Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to make some kind of elaborate gesture.”
It was nice to be, if not back in Libby’s good books, at least in the neutral column.
Ness could see smoke drifting above the trees from the beach. She wondered if she could make herself eat snake steak. Maybe if she pretended it was chicken . . .
They sat in silence for a moment. The sound of Ian heckling Coco drifted out from the kitchen. Ness could almost imagine she had, in fact, managed to travel through time, spinning the clock back far enough to let her do things differently.
They say it takes ten thousand hours to become an expert at something. If that was true, Ness had fully mastered analyzing the years leading up to her father’s abrupt departure and wondering if she should have seen it coming. She wondered if, after this ordeal, she’d have mastered tackling reparations for her own wrongdoings.
“You couldn’t have changed anything, you know,” Libby said. She kept her eyes on the wisps of cloud passing by. The wind was making her hair dance gently around her perfect, professionally sculpted chin. “You could have maybe dragged it out, made enough money to keep him around another couple of years. But your dad? He was never going to be there for the long run. He’s one of those people who are never happy with what they have. They’re always looking for the next big win. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up in Vegas and lost everything.”
“That’s . . . not comforting.” Ness hugged her knees to her chest and tried to decide how much to say. There was something about their bonkers circumstances that seemed to encourage cagey behavior and also completely over-the-top sharing, simultaneously. She decided to embrace the spirit of the moment.
“I hired a private investigator. There was nothing the police could do. His name was on everything—all the accounts, all the investments.” She shook her head, the sting still surprisingly fresh. “I don’t know what I wanted. It’s not like the money was coming back. But I needed to know what he traded me in for.”
Ness still felt the weight of disappointment pressing down on her, even after so many years.
“He bought a thousand acres in New Mexico and opened a wellness center. They adhere to a vegan menu and pipe in canistered air imported from the Alps. There’s a portrait of me hanging over the fireplace in the lobby.” The photo the investigator had sent was forever burned in her memory, along with the eye-watering amount on the accompanying invoice.
“Huh. That’s messed up.” Libby scratched a mosquito bite on her ankle. “And you never heard from him?”
“Nope.”
“I’d say you’re better off, but . . .” She waved a hand at their surroundings.
“Yeah.”
Daisy, Hayes, and Tyler emerged from the beach path, sunburned and smiling. Daisy and Tyler each carried one of the hard-sided coolers from the boat. They looked heavy.
Hayes held out a platter of woven palm fronds piled with white meat.
“Dinner is served.”
* * *
By early evening Bradley was still MIA. With full stomachs and steadily growing concern, they split up to search the island.
Libby took the command post position, staying parked in the lounger in case he suddenly appeared back at the house.
As Ness shoved a refilled bottle of water into her bag, a large winged insect made its way across the room and settled in a high corner. Ness eyed it suspiciously, making sure it was staying put as she finished grabbing supplies and headed outside.
After consulting the map they’d found their first day and the tiny dot that represented their rock in the ocean, Ian and Daisy set out for the eastern end of the island while Ness and Hayes went west. Tyler and Coco went to search the area around the house, tasked with checking the various sheds and outbuildings scattered across the acre or so that surrounded the pseudo-castle. Ness figured there was a not-insignificant chance Coco would come back without her search buddy, based on their past interactions and Coco’s increasingly low tolerance for idiocy.
An hour and countless bug bites later, Ness and Hayes reached a channel across the beach that led into the mangroves, which grew nearly to the waterline along this section of the island’s edge. The water was eight feet across, and currently up to their knees. They waded through, and Ness hoped crocodiles and alligators weren’t on the Porn Prince’s list of imported species.
The sun poked its nose out from behind the blanket of clouds, and something in the trees to Ness’s left glinted. She turned toward it, wondering if there was another shed nestled in the greenery that they should be investigating. It would be very on-brand for Bradley to have established his own settlement to prove a point.
Whatever was in there was too short to be a building. It was also too white and too purposefully hidden under palm fronds and broken branches, most of which had been tossed aside by the wind and rain. She edged closer, careful not to trip on tree roots.
There, tied to a tree and bobbing gently in the shallow canal, was their boat.
Hayes and Ness stared at each other, then at the boat, their mouths opening and closing in matching expressions of shock and confusion, shifting to joy before morphing back into a blatant “WTF?”
They ran over and tossed the foliage aside, confirming it wasn’t a mirage, or some other vessel abandoned here years ago and ready to disintegrate if a heavy seabird perched on its bow.
It wasn’t in great shape—the nose was scraped and dented, the sides sported long scratches and gouges—but there it was, in all its boat-shaped glory: Gentleman’s Delight, still afloat!
Ness’s legs failed her then, and she plopped down onto a convenient clump of sandy roots.
“What does this mean?” she asked, not sure if she was talking to herself or to Hayes.
He was in the boat, rummaging through the water-logged contents.
“The equipment cases are gone, except this one,” he said, holding up a waterproof black box by its handle. “Which I guess isn’t surprising, but it does mean there’s a whole lot more tech on the island unaccounted for.”
He found two bottles of Kalik Light and used the metal edge of an interior cabinet to pop one open, and then the other, before stepping off the boat and coming to stand beside Ness. The drinks fizzed lightly, catching the dappled light coming through the leaves.
Ness swatted at a bug and accepted a bottle, taking a swig of the warm golden brew.
“This is disgusting,” she muttered, then chugged half the bottle. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and suppressed a belch.
Hayes followed suit, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He came up for air, saying, “This is an emergency. It’s for the shock.”
Ness stared at the boat. “Right.”
She felt light-headed and remembered that, aside from the recent windfall of island creature protein, she hadn’t eaten in . . . god, forever. Good thing it was a light beer. She took another sip, rolling the bottle between her hands. The label turned to sticky mush against her palms.
“Am I thinking about this clearly? Did someone hide this from us? On purpose?”
“The other option is that we came in on this beach that first night and . . . misplaced the boat.” Hayes finished his beer in one long swallow. “The storm could have dropped all these branches . . .” He sounded nowhere near convinced.
“Did the storm also drop the cameras onto the house?”
“Probably not.”
They stared at the boat in silence as birds chirped their cheerful songs in the treetops.
“Hayes,” she said quietly. “Who would do this? These are people we know and trust. Okay, well, at least trust enough to think they wouldn’t trap us on a deserted island.” A mosquito landed on her arm, and she mashed it, leaving a small trail of blood across her skin as she brushed it aside.
“One would think.”
“Apparently one is wrong. Again.”
“Here’s the thing,” Hayes said slowly, setting his beer aside. “We have the boat now.” He stood, smiling. “We have the boat now.”
Ness got to her feet.
“WE HAVE THE BOAT!”
They jumped up and down, whooping until they were hoarse. Hayes wrapped her in a bear hug and planted a celebratory kiss on the top of her head, sending her innards into a spiral. She tilted her head back, delirious with joy at the possibility of imminent escape.
“Why did it take us fifteen minutes to realize that?” he asked, staring down into her eyes.
“We’re dehydrated, among the eight of us we’ve had the caloric intake of a picky toddler, and I might be slightly tipsy.”
“Fair.” He paused, forehead wrinkling in consternation. “Listen, if someone would go this far to keep us here, what’s going to happen when they know we found the boat?” Walking around Ness to a small clearing, he started pacing.
Ness pursed her lips, determined to remain calm. Or at least calm-ish. “Well, depending on their motive, I think it could go a couple of ways.”
“It sounds like you’ve already thought this through,” he said, looking over to her without breaking stride. He only had room to take two long steps before nearly face-planting against a tree trunk and having to turn back the way he came.
“Maybe. Kind of. Anyway, if their goal is really to sell the footage from the cameras, then I think they’d roll with it, get on the boat, and play innocent until something forces them to do otherwise. Like, say, if the police search everyone and find memory cards, or dust the camera fragments for fingerprints and that implicates one of us.”
“Okay.” Hayes nodded, turned on his heel, kept pacing. “That makes sense. Doesn’t sound too bad, aside from the fact that someone seems to have kept us forcibly confined here for days, which, if I’m being honest, is freaking me out more than a little.”
“Yes. I can tell. And if the motive happened to be something other than just cashing in on the footage . . . Look, never mind. We don’t need to talk about that.”
“What are you getting at? Blackmail? What?” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in a way that was both entertaining and endearing. He looked like a frantic hedgehog.
“No, really, I’ve got nothing but wild-ass guesses.”
“Ness. Spit it out.”
“Okay, well . . . It may have crossed my mind that we’re being kept here for some more . . . dark purpose.”
Hayes stopped in his tracks. “I changed my mind. I don’t need to hear this right now. You’re right.” He cleared this throat, rolled his shoulders back, and took a series of slow, deep breaths.
He looked at her, his silver hair shining, and stepped forward. “Shall we get our sea legs back, Captain Larkin?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Splitting up seemed like the most efficient strategy. Ness would drive the boat around the tip of the island to the main beach. Hayes would meet her there, help tie the thing up with one thousand knots and every anchor-like item they could find. And then they’d gather everyone else and head out, aiming for whatever neighboring island the map said was closest.
The sun was only just starting to dip below the trees, the sky working its way from blue into a tie-dyed frenzy of pink and orange. They had oodles of time.
They used ropes to haul the boat backward along the channel, which was barely deep enough for it to clear the sandy bottom without getting mired, and launched it out into the open shallows. Hayes boosted Ness onboard, waited a minute to make sure the engine started, and then jogged away, a coil of rope over his shoulder.
Ness took a moment (maybe two) to check out the view as he went.
Now, standing at the helm, absorbing the purr of the motor under her feet, tears welled in her eyes, and she rested her forehead on the steering wheel.When she looked up a few seconds later, the waves had pushed her closer to the sandbanks than she felt comfortable with. She made a smooth turn and headed for deeper water.
The last thing they needed was to get beached.
From the water, the island was picture perfect. The white sand glistened under waving green palm trees and the ever-present mangroves. Overgrown flowering bushes dotted the scene with bright pinks and reds. She’d like to come back someday, she realized, shocking herself.
Laughing, bubbling over with the unfamiliar feeling of freedom, she revved the engine and drove at what felt like a safe-but-urgent pace around the craggy tip of the island. The sun was out in its full evening glory, sending warm rays onto her shoulders and back. As she rounded the corner, she wished she had her sunglasses. She squinted and saw Hayes waving from the beach in the distance.
She mapped out the route in her head, trying to remember if she’d seen hidden rocks in the water, while also envisioning her reception once everybody realized they were saved. Their ecstatic faces, and her immediate elevation from whatever scum-of-the-earth island citizen she was now to savior.
The vibrations under her feet stopped. It was suddenly very quiet.
“No,” she breathed. Then louder, “No, no, NO!” She turned the key. The engine sputtered but didn’t turn over. She bashed the panel with the heel of her hand and tried again.
Nothing.
Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. Tears blurred her vision.
“Think it through, Ness,” she ordered herself. “What do you know about boats?”
The answer was “very little.” Just enough to get her boating license years earlier so she could pilot her ex in their classic mahogany runabout to their friends’ places on the other side of Lake Rosseau for cocktails and bonfires, where people discussed market fluctuations, the price of carbon fiber, and the most interesting article in that month’s issue of The Economist.
She’d hated those parties.
“Focus,” she said. “The basics. What are the basics?” She turned in a slow circle.
“I have a key. The boat was on. What makes a boat turn off?” The blood drained from her face. Idiot, she thought, eyes darting over the dials in front of her. You’re such an idiot.
The gas gauge rested on E.
When she looked back at the beach, Hayes had gotten smaller. His waving seemed to be less excited and verging on frantic, judging by the increased intensity. Another person was running across the beach toward him, taking deer-like leaps through the air.
Ness tried not to panic but was well on her way to a full-blown anxiety attack as the weight of the situation seemed to land squarely on her chest.
She was going to lose the boat. Again.
Another wave pushed her farther out, and that’s when she realized she’d better start swimming.
I could stay here, she considered, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she looked down at the blue water. See where I wash up. Maybe there will be people there. Different, less angry people. That would be nice.
She looked back at the beach. Hayes was gone. She squinted, shading her eyes with a hand. Oh shit. A seal-silver head bobbed in the waves. Tanned arms sliced through the water. He was coming to get her.
“No way you are killing yourself to save me, you stupid, stupid man.” The spark of anger at his complete idiocy spurred her into action. The last storage space she rummaged revealed one remaining life jacket. It was faded and the orange fabric was ripped in places. It was still better than nothing. She shoved her arms through, clipped it shut, and clambered over the bench. The upholstery was already warm from the sun, and the metal detailing along the ledge seemed to have absorbed all the heat the weakening rays could emit, making it uncomfortably hot. She sat for a second, legs dangling, aluminum burning the backs of her bare thighs.
She tried to judge how far out she was. Three hundred yards? Four? The water looked bottomless.
“I never should have left Toronto,” she said, and jumped.
The water was colder that far out. It ran over her face as she broke through the surface. A wave rolled over her as she inhaled, making her cough and sputter. She barely recovered in time to dodge the next one and get herself pointed in the right direction, positioned to ride the waves up and down.
As she swam, she tried to think of ways to save the boat, but unless they built a raft and rowed after it, she couldn’t see how it was possible. A glance over her shoulder revealed that it was already a good distance away, and Ness didn’t think it was because she was a particularly speedy swimmer.
She rode the next wave to the top and got a look at the island. She was slightly off center to the beach but at least heading the right way.
She searched for a sign of Hayes but couldn’t see him before the water dropped her back down into a bowl of blue. She tried not to think about what was swimming underneath her or how much she might look like a tasty snack. To distract herself, she started making a to-do list.
Survival skills.Stroke, stroke, kick, breathe. Team-building skills. Stroke, stroke, kick, breathe. Swimming lessons.
This continued for an eternity, and Ness knew that without the flotation device wrapped around her ribs she’d have drowned. No question. Send donation to whoever makes sure people have life jackets. Stroke, stroke, kick, breathe.
She inhaled some more water, coughed it up, throat and nostrils burning, and flipped over to lie on her back and catch her breath.
Overhead the sky was turning to a storm of oranges, pinks, purples, and swirls of gold as the sun began to set.
Oh, perfect. Feeding time.
She barrel-rolled onto her stomach and swam, worry for Hayes gnawing at her like the hungry, large-toothed creatures undoubtedly eyeing her soft underside at that very moment.
Something bumped into her. She shrieked, her hands coming up in fists, ready to punch a shark in the nose.
Hayes glared back at her. He was breathing heavily, his lips slightly parted. Water ran in tiny drops down his neck as he treaded water.
“You look like a furious mer-king,” ocean-addled Ness observed, before realizing why he was probably so mad. She paddled in a slow circle and spotted the boat, now half a mile away. She felt a fresh crush of disappointment.
“What the hell?” Hayes demanded, slapping the water beside him. He looked heavenward, as if the candy floss sunset could give him strength or direction.
“The gas tank was empty,” Ness said. “I’m sorry. I should have checked. I should have noticed. I should have—”
“That boat can sink to a watery grave alongside basically everyone else on this godforsaken island,” Hayes growled.
“Oh . . . ?”
“I didn’t think there were any life jackets left on board. I couldn’t get to you. I thought . . .” His eyes closed for a moment, his breath stuttered. He ran a wet hand over his face and looked at her.
“I’m glad you’re not dead.”
“Same.”
He reached out and grabbed the front of her life jacket, pulling her to him and mashing a none-too-gentle kiss onto her chapped lips.
Suddenly, they were under water as a lazy wave rolled over them. Their heads broke the surface, both of them sputtering and laughing in a slightly unhinged how-is-this-our-life way. They struck out toward land, Hayes gliding through the water beside her like a dolphin or adorable hand-holding sea otter while Ness splashed along with all the grace of a pirate thrown overboard.
They covered enough distance that the waves began to calm around them. Ness was shivering but could feel the water temperature starting to rise as they neared shore. When they were about two hundred feet from their not-so-welcoming committee on the beach, she looked at Hayes, who was sporting blue-tinged lips. His strokes had slowed. He turned his head to check on her and their eyes met.
“I thought . . .” she began before stopping herself. In the ocean with only one flotation device was not the time to discuss feelings. Apparently, Hayes had little regard for his limitations, though, because he stopped swimming and floated there, kicking his legs and waving his arms through the water as he rested on the surface.
“You thought what?”
“I thought you regretted kissing me. Before. Yesterday. And, you know, way back when, but specifically yesterday.”
“I did.”
“Uh, oh. Alright.” Ness squinted up at the sky. “But then it’s kind of messed up you just did it again, don’t you think?”
He flicked water at her and she considered shoving his head under. When he started speaking, she was glad she’d exercised restraint.
“I regretted that it took this long. I’m bummed that we’re on this dumb island and, if I know you, you’re wondering if I only kissed you because this is so far from real life that, once we leave, I can pretend it never happened. You’re thinking I’m caught up in some fantasy of what we had and who you were instead of who you are now.”
She couldn’t argue with any of that and stayed quiet.
“And no, I don’t know you very well anymore, but I’ve learned more about who you are now in the past few days than I would have in a week of filming at some luxury resort where it’s impossible to have a moment to ourselves. And Ness?”
She lifted her gaze from the shimmering water to his face. Her lips were crusted with salt. Her hair was slicked across her forehead in bedraggled strands. The life jacket was too loose and, as she floated, the shoulders pushed up to her earlobes, all but enveloping her chin. She’d never felt less alluring, but the way Hayes was looking at her made it easy to believe she was an epic sex kitten.
“I have no idea what’s going to happen here, but I know I like being with you. I’ve always liked being with you.” His hand reached out and squeezed hers. If they hadn’t been floating in an ocean, probably being eyed up for a shark’s lunch, it would have been among the most romantic moments of her life. Heck, even with the shark thing it was still up there.
Ness coughed, clearing the lump that had formed in her throat.
“Ditto.”
He resumed treading water and attempted to drop a kiss on the tip of her nose, but he missed and mushed his lips against her eye instead.
“When we get home, can I take you on a date? A real one? Someplace far, far away from here where the most stressful decision we need to make is how many desserts to order?”
“I would love that.”
His cheekbones were highlighted by a sunburn made even more pink by the evening light. Ness could feel her heart begin to reassemble itself, preparing for a potential leap into Big Feelings territory. It felt very on-brand for her that this was happening mid-near-death-experience. Ness Larkin, unwitting queen of the dramatic life twists.
“I’ve thought about this, you know.” She kept her voice low. “What it would be like if we met again. This . . . it’s not how I pictured it.”
She’d been kicking slowly, keeping herself alongside Hayes, ready to grab him at a moment’s notice if he started sinking. They’d rotated so she was now facing the beach and had a clear view of how many shocked, angry people would be waiting there. She wondered if they should do an about-face and head back out to sea. It was the Bahamas, after all. There were a million tiny islands here. They’d run into one eventually.
“I’d like to get out of the water now,” she said quietly, resigned to her fate.
“Yeah,” Hayes said, following her gaze. He sighed. “Same.”
October 3, 2003
The train wreck that is Ness Larkin continues to barrel down the tracks, folks. Photographers captured images of the good-girl-turned-wicked out on the town (no surprise there) last night with a mystery man. Yes, that’s right, y’all. I’d bet my life that is NOT Hayes Beaumont, despite their rumored off-screen relationship.
Ness stepped out wearing some scandalous low-rise jeans (those things would make Xtina blush!) and a cropped tube top, finishing the look with a totally adorbs fedora. Saucy! Her mystery companion didn’t even try to keep up, fashion-wise, keeping his identity under wraps with an oversized hoodie as they made their way into what sources say was a private room at Hooper’s, Hollywood’s trendiest new restaurant.
Now, while this could be a business meeting or dinner with friends, reports from inside the restaurant indicate things were getting pret-ty spicy, and I’m not talking about the food. Stay tuned for more!
And Hayes, honey, if you need someone to comfort you, you know where to find me.