Episode 212
STORM WARNING
Heather
Alone at last.
Darby is with Misty inside, and June is God knows where.
Just me and the hot-as-hell barkeep…until Sienna shows up.
I suppose if I were to have a real friend here on the island, Sienna might be a good choice.
Ariel is sweet, but a little too sweet for me. Plus, she and Alex are getting married tomorrow, so she’ll be taking off anyway.
Emily always looks like she has a three-foot stick up her ass. Or “arse,” as she would say.
June… Well, she’s fun to fool around with, but I don’t trust her. She’s cool and calculating, and truth be told, I don’t know what she’s after.
Then Misty…
Who the hell knows what’s going on with her? June may be cool and calculating, but Misty is on a whole other level.
But Sienna…
She’s approachable.
Since when do I find corporate attorneys approachable? I don’t normally hang out with professionals like her in my line of work. But I do hair for a lot of them, and I hear all their stories. The work sounds like a freaking dirge, but they’re usually very nice people.
And Sienna? She’s more than nice. She’s grounded. Polished without being fake. The kind of woman who could probably tear someone apart in court and still smile while doing it. But here, on this island, she’s been real with me. No judgment. No pretense.
That’s rare.
She steps onto the deck like she owns the air around her—messy bun, sundress, and that confident strut of someone who knows exactly who she is. She sees me at the bar and raises a hand in greeting.
“You hiding too?” she asks, sliding onto the stool beside me.
I grin. “More like retreating. This place is starting to feel like a powder keg.”
Sienna sighs. “You’re not wrong. Between Jake’s reappearance and Misty’s little collapse, I half expect someone to throw a drink or light a match.”
“Or both.”
We share a look, and it turns into laughter. Not because it’s funny, but because we’re both too on edge to do anything else.
The bartender approaches. “Another, Ms. Hill?”
I’ve been drinking a Mai Tai, but it’s time for something stronger. “Tequila,” I say. “And one for my friend here too.”
Sienna smiles. “Thanks. Something tells me this is going to be a tequila night.”
“Smart woman,” I say. “So tell me…what do you really think about all this?”
She lifts a brow. “Define all this.”
“The wedding. The drama. Jake. Misty acting like she saw a ghost. The fact that I’m actually considering you a friend even though you bill by the hour.”
Sienna laughs—really laughs—and it’s the most genuine sound I’ve heard all day.
“Okay,” she says. “You want my real opinion?”
“Lay it on me.”
“I think the people here have more secrets than this island has palm trees. And I think we’ve only scratched the surface.”
That sobers me a bit. I may be hiding the biggest secret of all.
Then again, I don’t know anyone else very well. This whole Jake thing is huge. I mean, he was supposed to be dead.
I sip my drink. “You’re not wrong. Something about Misty’s reaction. I’m well versed in fake, and I have my own opinions about Misty, but she wasn’t faking, from what I could see. Though I only saw her a bit before the guys grabbed Darby and took her inside.”
Sienna nods slowly. “No. It was real. And I’m no shrink, but to me it seemed just as emotional as it was physical.”
I stare out at the courtyard. The breeze is warm, but I shiver anyway.
“Do you ever get the feeling,” I say quietly, “that we’ve all been pulled here for a reason? Like this isn’t just a matchmaking event for four hunky billionaires. It’s more of a… Fuck, I don’t know.”
“A reckoning?” Sienna offers.
Wow.
Not what I was thinking, but I can’t deny the word feels right.
I just hope it’s not my reckoning.
“Maybe,” I finally say.
We both fall silent.
The bartender hands us our drinks.
“To surviving the storm,” I say.
Sienna clinks her glass against mine. “To whatever’s coming next. Whatever it is, may we be strong enough to survive it.”
I tilt my head. “Those are ominous words.”
Sienna gives me a half-smile. “I don’t mean to sound dramatic.”
“Too late.” I take a long sip of tequila, letting its smokiness coat my throat. “We’re way past dramatic on this island. We’ve entered the cinematic tragedy portion of the program.”
She laughs again, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “I mean it, though,” she says, quieter now. “There’s something off. The energy. The timing. Just when my life seemed to be coming together.”
I raise my eyebrows.
She takes a drink. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Good enough. Though as a hair stylist, I’m a good listener. Kind of like a bartender.” I flash a smile at the handsome barkeep. “Only I don’t have to get you drunk to get you to spill your guts. I just have to make you beautiful.”
Sienna chuckles. “Honestly? I’d spill my guts to you in a minute, but I really just want to forget it all for a while.”
“Good enough.”
Sienna tips her glass to me again, but she looks distracted now, distant.
“You okay?” I ask.
She blinks. “Yeah. Though I came out here to see if there was any lunch left, and instead I’m drinking tequila in the middle of the afternoon on an empty stomach.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” I say. “Tequila cures everything.”
She laughs at that. “Maybe. And maybe not. I hate feeling like this. Off-balance.”
“Because of Brett? Because of Jake returning?”
“Because of everything,” she says softly.
“This place seems to open people up like a wound. It makes you face things you thought you buried. Like me going all the way back to see my ex. I mean, I went to say goodbye to his mother, but still… And then Brett. I’m not sure where I stand with anyone anymore. ”
I nod slowly. I know exactly what she means.
But I don’t say it.
Because I’ve spent years burying the thing that keeps me up at night. The thing no one here knows.
Silence again. Only the occasional thud of our glasses against the wooden bar.
Until somewhere inside the mansion, a door slams. Then voices. Someone arguing.
Sienna doesn’t move, but her fingers tighten around her glass. “Whatever’s coming,” she says, “I think it’s already started.”
I nod, my gaze fixed on the shadows just beyond the pool. There’s a little stone building out there, mostly covered by foliage. Interesting that I didn’t notice it until now.
And in the silence that follows, I swear I hear something.
A rustle. A footstep. Maybe just the wind.
But I feel it.
That old, familiar ripple of fear crawling up my spine.
Something’s coming.
And it’s not just a storm.