A Good Chance (The Siren Island Series Book 3)

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Not even you?” Avery tilted her head at Cherylynn.

  “I mean… yes, of course me, but also, who knows? What if I blurt out your secrets under the duress of a challenge or something? I’m not the best at keeping secrets anyway.”

  “Okay, duly noted. I won’t share what I don’t want on television. How about that?”

  “That’s fair. I don’t want to not be your friend. I just worry… competition makes people do ugly things,” Cherylynn said, biting her lower lip.

  “Well, let’s do our best to hold our heads up high and live with our behavior. Deal?”

  “Deal. Now let’s go make ourselves beautiful. Opening ceremony will be a showstopper.”

  Avery was a little bummed that she hadn’t gotten to read even a chapter of her book, but she suspected reading wouldn’t be high on the list of priorities during her stay here. She smiled and nodded at all the women she passed, continuing to marvel at their beauty, and followed Cherylynn to their room where they immediately dove into their half-unpacked bags.

  “Is this an entire bag of survival gear?” Cherylynn peered into Avery’s duffel.

  “Yup. This is the one I packed. The other one was –” Avery caught herself. “…packed by my best friend, who is the fashionista. I even have outfit instructions.”

  “Um, that’s amazing. I wish I had that.” Cherylynn pulled out a slinky green silk dress from a hanging bag. “I was thinking this for tonight.”

  “It’s stunning. You absolutely should. Let me just, ah, consult my notes.” Avery felt her cheeks heat as she paged through the little notebook until she found the image her sister had labeled for opening ceremony. “Okay, it looks like this… and this… and I have instructions on jewelry too.” She pulled out a pink slip dress the color of sand-washed shells, its neckline sparkling with intricate beading, then put it aside to find the nude strappy wedges to go with it.

  As a redhead, she typically avoided wearing pinks and reds. Digging in her jewelry case, Avery found the turquoise statement earrings Ruby had assigned to go with the dress. What had she been thinking? It was a weird color combination, and she was certain she’d look ridiculous in it.

  “Oh, that’s fabulous,” Cherylynn breathed, and Avery turned to her in shock.

  “It is?”

  “It is. That color will look amazing on you. Do you want to shower first or second? I can help you with your hair.”

  “Great, because the only thing I know about my hair is letting it do its monster-curl thing or putting it in a messy bun.”

  “Both of which work for you. So hop to it.” Cherylynn pointed and Avery dutifully made her way to the bathroom. Taking the quickest shower she could, Avery let the tension from a long day of travel ease from her shoulders. It’s going to be okay, she reminded herself. Stepping outside her comfort zone wasn’t meant to be, well, comfortable.

  A short while later, Avery found herself following Cherylynn through the main room and down to the beach where cushions and benches had been arranged in a half-circle around a fire pit. The sun, almost kissing the horizon, sent rays of pure gold across the calm water.

  “Well, everyone’s outdone themselves,” Cherylynn decided, scanning the group of beautiful women who had turned out in their best fashion. For once, Avery was glad she had let Ruby take control when it came to her wardrobe, because she didn’t feel out of place. If anything, after standing in front of the mirror and seeing what her sister had pulled together, Avery felt more confident than usual. The pink dress did wonders for her skin and made her auburn curls pop. The turquoise earrings stood out against her hair. Cherylynn had braided one side of her hair and left the rest to tumble in a wild mess over her shoulders. She felt chic, a little extravagant, and like maybe she could actually be a contender in this game.

  “Champagne?” A waiter smiled at them with a tray in his hands.

  “No thanks,” Avery said, remembering what Roman had said about alcohol and good television. The waiter just stood there patiently until she relented and took a glass.

  “Even if you don’t drink it, I think they want us all to hold it for the photos and video,” Cherylynn said.

  “Fine, I’ll dump mine in the sand after.”

  “Don’t waste good champagne! I’ll drink it.”

  They quickly found a seat on one of the benches as a man stepped forward and lit the fire. The bugs were already out, as they were wont to be at any sunset on any island ever, and Avery was grateful for the bug repellent she’d applied liberally before they’d left the room. Cherylynn had just rolled her eyes, but now, watching the women swat at mosquitos and sand flies, Avery was pleased with her forethought.

  “Don’t sit there looking all smug like the cat who ate the canary,” Cherylynn whispered as she swatted another mosquito.

  “Was I? Hmmm, I was just enjoying this lovely night.”

  “Uh-huh. The fire will chase them away.”

  “Sure thing. Until then…” Despite not wanting to drink, Avery took a small sip of her glass and smiled.

  “See? Smug.”

  “Shhh,” Avery said, motioning to where two men approached, both equally handsome in their own ways. She wondered which one was their bachelor. Unless there were maybe two?

  “Good evening, ladies.” The first man, with short dark hair and tanned skin, smiled at them. “I’m Jack Lyndon and I’ll be your host for the show. Which means, as I’m sure you can figure out, that this handsome man next to me is your bachelor, Beckett Smith.”

  Avery raised her eyebrows as Beckett – blond, tanned, and rippling with muscles – executed a casual backflip on the sand before gracing all the ladies with a million-dollar smile. Over half the women squealed and clapped their hands. Avery rolled her eyes.

  “Oh boy, we’ve got a live one, don’t we?” Cherylynn murmured.

  Avery just took another sip of her champagne. She was going to need it.

  Chapter 6

  Roman watched as Beckett preened for the ladies, nodding to his cameramen to circle around and get reaction shots to his little display of foolishness.

  He’d hated Beckett on sight.

  Which wasn’t entirely fair of him, Roman thought as he stood in the shadows and watched the women’s reaction to Beckett’s introduction. He’d picked the guy, after all. Roman knew what made for good television, and a peacock like Beckett would have the viewers divided. Which meant they would come back episode after episode, half of them wanting Beckett to fail, the other half hoping he would find love. All in all, factoring in what he’d sized up from the contestants and the island itself, this would make for engrossing reality television.

  Which made Roman even more annoyed at himself. This was not what he’d gone to school for, this was not his passion – and yet the money had been too good to turn down. He had turned out to have a knack for producing reality shows that hooked people, and now he was highly sought after in the genre. Unfortunately, his heart was elsewhere, and he was doing his best to support his passion while taking on projects like these. It was about balance, he reminded himself; not everyone had the luxury of only doing what they were passionate about for a living. At the very least, these reality shows funded his lifestyle such that he could afford to pay his crew what they deserved for following him into the wilds of whatever country he set his sights on. It was important to him to pay all of his people a fair wage, which was why he was highly respected in the industry.

  And yet, here he was, Roman thought, promising himself this would be the last show like this he did. His eyes slid to where Avery sat, looking like a rose waiting to be plucked, her dress shimmering in the flames. He smiled when he caught her eyeroll at Beckett’s antics. She wouldn’t make it long on the show with that attitude, but damn, he liked her for it.

  “She’s lovely, no?”

  “Damn, Irma. You scared me half to death,” Roman said, keeping his voice low as he turned to the woman at his side.

  “For a man who traipses the bush in search
of lions, you should be more attuned to a person’s approach.”

  “Fair enough. If you marry me and run away with me, you could stalk lions in the bush too, you know,” Roman said, smiling at Irma. He was only half-joking, having been utterly entranced with Irma since the day he’d Skyped with her several months ago. With luscious grey hair, eyes that saw everything, and a curvy body, Irma was every man’s dream at any age. She was beauty, life, wisdom, and sensuality all packed into one. For once in his life, he wished he was an artist – he could just envision painting Irma as she emerged from the sea, a storm raging around her.

  “I’ve told you before, this island is my home. I’d offer my daughters for you to date, but they have minds of their own, as you well know,” Irma laughed, sliding her arm through Roman’s as she studied the group.

  “Your daughters are just as beautiful as you, but I find them both terrifying.”

  “And I’m not?” Irma asked, delighted with him.

  “You are. But not like they are. I pity the man who tries to win them over. Jolie will eat them alive, while Mirra will sweetly poison them.”

  “Then I’ve taught them well,” Irma decided.

  “The cameras are going to love you all. I’m even more interested to see how the women respond to you. I suspect many will be threatened.”

  “By me? Nonsense. By my girls – well, that’s not a surprise. I’ve raised two beautiful women.”

  “I’d say you’re all more than beautiful. It’s not just what you look like, but how your souls shine through. The three of you are luminous.”

  “I like you, Roman,” Irma said, squeezing his arm. “You are welcome at my table any day.”

  “I plan to take you up on that.”

  “Now, tell me about the girl you were mooning over.”

  “That would be you, Irma,” Roman said, neatly deflecting the question.

  “Ah, you’re good for my ego, young one,” Irma laughed, but nodded to Avery. “Her. The knockout redhead in the pink dress. You like her.”

  “I… I don’t not like her. She intrigues me, I’ll admit. She seems oddly baffled by this whole thing. Says she came here on a dare. She was reading a non-fiction book on the climate crisis at the pool today. I find her a breath of fresh air among everyone else, I guess.”

  “Her energy is good. Wounded, a bit, from something. You’ll help her bloom,” Irma decided. Then, releasing Roman’s hand, she began making her way toward Jack, who was motioning to her.

  “Wait… no, I won’t…” Roman started to say, and then clamped his mouth shut, because cameras were rolling.

  “Gotta love our mother. She sure likes to drop a bomb, no?” Jolie said, coming to stand on one side of Roman. Her dark hair curled wildly around her shoulders and she’d poured her curvy body into a sequined teal minidress, and Roman imagined every man in America sitting up to beg.

  “You let him be, Jolie. He’s still figuring this all out,” Mirra said. Roman glanced to his other side to see Mirra, looking like an ethereal angel in a slim column of white, her blond hair flowing in two loose braids over her shoulder. It was like being bookended by fire and water, and Roman couldn’t decide which was more enticing.

  “Thanks, ladies. Your turn to head on up. Go make those women jealous,” Roman said, nodding to the front of the circle.

  “I thought you wanted us to mentor them,” Mirra pouted.

  “You will. But they’ll still be jealous of you. That’s okay. You’re both amazing. Just be you and the rest will shine through.”

  He had stumbled upon the Laughing Mermaid guesthouse when he was scouting locations for this show. When he’d seen pictures of the owners, he immediately got on a video call with them to see if they’d be interested in the show. Not only would they play an integral part in mentoring and guiding this group of women on their journey here, but they were also the perfect foils for weeding out the jealous ones in the bunch. He’d be able to size up who would make for good television, and who would actually be a match for Beckett, simply by watching how the group of women responded to the knockouts who lived at the Laughing Mermaid.

  Judging by the way Beckett’s tongue all but fell out of his mouth when the sisters approached, Roman knew he’d chosen well. Now, he just had to sit back and watch the show.

  And stay away from Avery, Roman chided himself. Poking at her was going to get in the way of him producing great television. Despite his misgivings about taking on this project, he prided himself on doing his job well. He’d chosen to take this job, and he would produce the hell out of this show.

  No matter what.

  Chapter 7

  “Beckett, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself,” Jack said, directing the attention to Beckett. Avery disliked him immediately and wondered just how long she’d be able to even keep up her pretense in this game.

  “Laaaadies,” Beckett said, smiling at the crowd of beautiful women around him, seeming as pleased as could be. And how could he not be? He had sixteen stunning women dying to meet him. “I’m Beckett, I run a surf camp in California, and I oversee a non-profit that helps children with disabilities spend time in the water.”

  “Um,” Cherylynn said, turning to look at Avery.

  “I was not expecting that,” Avery admitted.

  The group of women all cooed in approval and Beckett nodded enthusiastically, basking in their praise.

  “I feel like he just does a job like that to get women,” Avery said.

  “Could be. Either way, the ovaries of every woman here just sat up and cheered.”

  Avery took another sip of her champagne to stop herself from snorting in laughter.

  “He knows it, too. See?” Avery whispered as she watched Beckett lapping up the praise from the women.

  “Girl, I’ve got eyes, don’t I?” Cherylynn said. “That being said, he’s hot.”

  “If you’re into the blond surfer boys.”

  “Who isn’t?”

  “I don’t know. Not me. I like dark, quiet, brooding,” Avery mused. Her last boyfriend, Mr. Outdoors himself, had been a blond surfer type. Maybe she had a bit of post-traumatic stress from her accident, she realized, given that she hadn’t dated a blond guy since.

  “Like Roman,” Cherylynn whispered.

  “Like who? What? No, not Roman,” Avery griped. “Stop with that. He’s not my type.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Ladies, we’d like to introduce another integral part of our show this season – Irma, who will mentor you on your way, and her two daughters, Jolie and Mirra. All three live here and run the Laughing Mermaid guesthouse. They’ll be a resource to you and help you during… times of turbulence, let’s just say, as we go through these challenges together.”

  “Oh my god.” Cherylynn clutched Avery’s hand as three of the most stunning women Avery had ever seen in her life stepped into the light. Judging from the silence that greeted them, everyone else was equally bowled over by their beauty.

  Including Beckett, who had turned and was eyeing Jolie like a snack he wanted to taste.

  Avery was transfixed by Irma. While her age was indeterminate, she was beautiful in an ageless way. She wore not a drop of makeup, her flowing dress the color of sunset, with long crystal necklaces adding just the touch of embellishment she needed. Irma was an everywoman, and Avery wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been birthed straight from the sea.

  Amused at her fanciful thoughts, Avery glanced down to see her champagne glass was empty. That explained that, she thought, and gently put the glass down in the sand.

  “Welcome to our little island,” Irma said. “It’s a pure joy to be in the presence of such beauty. We look forward to helping you on your journey. Remember, we are here as resources to you, whether it’s to talk something out or to offer assistance on a challenge. Don’t be afraid to come to us, as our door is always open.”

  The women all clapped politely, clearly unsure how to proceed in the face of such magnificence. Beckett
had yet to turn back from eyeing Jolie and give his attention to the group of women, and Avery saw more than one woman frown.

  “Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise,” she murmured.

  “Isn’t it? I need to ask that Mirra how she gets her hair like that. It’s marvelous.”

  “Looks like we’ll have a chance, too. Time to mingle,” Avery said, after Jack announced food, music, and dancing was on for the rest of the night.

  “Let’s go. I need to eat something fierce,” Cherylynn said, eying up the buffet table.

  “Don’t you want to meet your bachelor?”

  “Nah. He’s busy right now. Give him time.”

  “I’m going to say hi to the women first. I’ll meet you by the food,” Avery decided. There was something drawing her to Jolie and Mirra. Maybe it was their obvious bond of sisterhood, something which resonated strongly for Avery.

  “Hi, I’m Avery,” she said, coming to a stop where the three women stood by themselves. The rest of the group had given these women a wide berth in order to fawn over Beckett.

  “We were wondering if anyone was going to come talk to us,” Jolie said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m glad it was you. Love your earrings.”

  “Thank you. Your dress is killer,” Avery said automatically.

  Jolie grinned. “I like you already.”

  “You like anyone who compliments you,” Mirra said, nudging Jolie before holding out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “I think all three of you are the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” Avery admitted, glad the darkness would hide her blush. She felt a rush of warmth go through her when Irma enveloped her in a hug.

  “That’s very kind of you to say,” Irma said, pulling back but keeping her hands on Avery’s shoulders, studying her. “I think you’ll do well here.”

  “Can I be you when I grow up?” Avery asked, and then almost bit her tongue. Irma threw back her head and laughed.

  “Get in line,” Jolie said, and they all joined in the laughter.

  “Why do you say I’ll do well here? I honestly don’t think I’m cut out for all this,” Avery admitted, turning to look at where Beckett swept a girl off her feet and pretended to run away with her.