make an appeal.”
I’m feeling energized when Aubrey and I walk into Carson Fine’s office first thing in the morning. Being summoned from the dorms this early doesn’t bode well, but I’ve had three cups of coffee and I’m wearing my mother’s red dress. I’m not sure what’s about to get thrown at us, but I’m ready to fight it.
Unfortunately, the man behind the desk isn’t our friendly, nautical-tie-wearing head of hospitality. “Have a seat,” Donald Camden says. He flashes his teeth or, more accurately, bares them. “Let’s discuss last night.”
God. Last night. I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. After Jonah got escorted out, Aubrey and I were rushed back to the dorms by a couple of women I’d never met before. Not surprisingly, I passed out as soon as Aubrey wrangled me out of my dress. I woke up to two texts from Uncle Archer—surprise, surprise, he’s still on the island after all—and six from Jonah.
I’m sorry.
I screwed everything up.
I never should have said that.
Can we talk?
I owe you an apology.
And an explanation.
I sent a single text back: Did you come here to get revenge on Uncle Anders? Yes/no answer only.
He answered within seconds. Yes.
Then he sent a bunch of other stuff, but I haven’t looked at it. He’s as big a liar as any Story, so I can’t trust anything he says.
I still can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together about Jonah’s family. And I can’t believe…but no. I’m not going to think about him when I have to keep my mind clear for whatever’s about to go down with Donald.
Who’s currently looking at Aubrey and me with undisguised irritation, waiting for us to take the seats he ordered us into. We both remain standing. “Uncle Anders is a liar—” I start, but Donald holds up a hand.
“Yes, he is. And so are the two of you. So here’s what’s going to happen. As of this morning, you are no longer employed at Gull Cove Resort. You will be paid for the full summer, which in my view is very generous.” His lips purse on the last word. “You’re expected to make arrangements with your parents for your return within three days, and you have an open ferry ticket for today, tomorrow, and Tuesday. However, before you leave, Mrs. Story wishes to see you, Aubrey.” His gaze locks on her, and she stiffens beside me. “A car will pick you up at one p.m. sharp from the resort’s front entrance and take you to Catmint House.”
“What?” she asks, at the same time as I ask, “Just Aubrey? Not me?”
“Mrs. Story wishes to speak with Aubrey alone, as a representative for the cousins,” Donald says. His nostrils flare. “I advised against any further contact, considering the damage all of you have already done. But she was insistent.”
Aubrey looks horrified as I ask, “A representative? What does that mean? Why not me?”
Donald’s lip curls. “She didn’t say. If I were to guess, your behavior last night renders you…less suitable.”
“Suitable for what?” I practically yell the words, which probably proves his point.
“I don’t want to go,” Aubrey says.
“That is, of course, entirely up to you,” Donald says. “The car will be there at one o’clock, and it will wait for fifteen minutes.”
“What if we don’t leave?” I ask. “The island, I mean.”
It gives me an ounce of satisfaction when Donald’s smooth expression briefly gives way to surprise. “If you don’t leave? Well that’s…I mean…you must.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t think we must do anything. You’re not the boss of us. And neither is Mildred anymore. We can stay here if we want.”
Aubrey darts a nervous glance toward me as Donald’s mask of composure returns. “As I stated, your rooms at the resort dorms are only good through Tuesday morning. After that, we will be taking your keys and you will no longer have access to the building.”
“There are other hotels,” I say.
“Most of which your grandmother owns,” Donald points out. “Further, your severance package is contingent on you agreeing to the terms laid out by Mrs. Story.”
“We don’t want her money,” I say. “You can keep it.” Then I look apologetically at Aubrey, realizing that I spoke for her without thinking. I know things are a lot tighter financially in her household than in mine, especially with the threat of divorce looming. But she’s nodding right along with me.
Donald’s neck flushes a deep red, and it’s a beautiful