by Talia Hunter
“What’s this?” he asked, turning around.
Her eyes opened and she gave him another weary smile. That made two in one day. Something to celebrate.
“Ask Rosa,” she murmured. “Too tired to explain.”
He put the bottle back on the dresser and stared at it for a moment longer before tiptoeing out. Maybe he’d been a little too quick to judge Rosa for it, but she’d still disturbed Tiny when he’d asked her not to.
Dalton showered and changed. By the time he got back to the reception building, Mere was nowhere to be seen and Rosa was in the office that used to be Tiny’s. She was frowning at the computer and running one hand through her dark, shoulder length hair. Her hair was already a little messy, probably from the ferry ride. She was making it even messier. When she turned toward him, it was sticking up on one side.
“Oh. Hi.” She didn’t look happy to see him. Not entirely unexpected. Maybe he’d been a little hard on her, but she’d taken him by surprise.
“You have everything you need?” he asked.
She lifted her chin. “When I studied hotel management, I graduated at the top of my class. And for the last five years, I’ve been working as a Hotel Manager’s Assistant. So, I’m qualified to do this job.” Her cheeks were flushed and she challenged him with her eyes. They were remarkable eyes. When he’d first seen her, he’d thought they were grey. But in the glow of sunlight shining through the window, they were tinged with green.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s obvious you think I shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s what you inferred from me asking if you have everything you need?”
“Of course not.” She hesitated, as though waiting for him to say something else. When he didn’t, she let out a long breath. “Do you know if Tiny has a list of her suppliers?”
If his sister had an address book, she would have left it somewhere obvious. The pad on the desk obviously belonged to Rosa, and there was some very neat writing on the open page.
“Did you check her computer?” he asked.
She nodded. “I couldn’t find a file called Suppliers, and I didn’t want to open random files in case she kept private stuff on it.”
“I’ll take a look.” He leaned over to use the keyboard, and couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking down Rosa’s long, slender body. Fine boned, he’d call her. Delicate, even. But judging from the way she’d challenged him, she clearly wasn’t as fragile as she looked.
He ran a quick search of the most recently accessed files on Tiny’s computer, and when he chose a spreadsheet and double-clicked, a list of company names and phone numbers came up.
“That’s it.” Rosa peered at the document. “Now, could you find me a list of what’s been done for Saturday’s wedding and what hasn’t?”
She glanced up at him, her face close. She had a nice smell. Clean, fresh, and a little minty. As though instead of just brushing her teeth in the morning, she’d rubbed her entire body with toothpaste.
Dalton forced his attention back to the computer and searched Tiny’s files again, this time looking for anything that mentioned weddings or Saturday’s date. He found files related to older weddings, but nothing current. “Do you know the name of the couple?” he asked.
“Here.” She picked up the notepad and flipped to the previous page. It was covered with more of her impossibly neat writing, with bullet points drawn as perfect little circles. She pointed to two names printed at the top of her list.
Instead of reading them, he scanned the rest of Rosa’s list. Rain plan. Sun protection. Ceremony and reception lighting. Microphones for speeches. Music for ceremony. Band or DJ for reception. Guest allergies and food preferences…
“You’ve organized weddings before,” he said.
“I did event management as part of my degree.”
Dalton typed the couple’s names into his search parameters, looking for any occurrence. Finally, he had to shake his head. “There’s nothing.”
She made a disappointed sound. “Okay. Well, thanks for trying.” She slumped back in her chair. Then leaned forward again. “Wait. What about emails? Do you think Tiny would mind if I looked through them?
Instead of answering, he opened Tiny’s email.
“Thanks.” Rosa peered at the emails. “A lot of these haven’t been read yet. Do you want me to go through them?” She glanced at him and this close, he could clearly see the green in her irises. They were also speckled with silver, which must be why he’d initially thought they were grey. He’d never seen eyes like them.
“You’d better.” Then, because he wanted to keep her remarkable eyes focused on him, he added, “It’s a big change for you, moving here.”
Her smile was totally unexpected, especially after the way they’d been going toe-to-toe, trading verbal punches. It was a beautiful smile with an enchanting hint of mischief, and it pricked uneven dimples into her cheeks. “Lantana is even more beautiful than I thought it’d be,” she said. “I can see why Tiny loves it so much.”
Dalton leaned against her desk, disarmed by her smile. “Tiny can’t stay. She can’t get the treatment she needs here.”
“Oh?” She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. And I hadn’t realized she was handling so much on her own. Organizing weddings, taking bookings, checking in guests, arranging tours. It must have been a lot of work. She offered me a job a few months ago, but I didn’t take it.” Rosa’s eyes dropped and she pressed her lips together. “If I’d come then, things might have been different. I thought she was trying to be nice and get me out of Sydney. I didn’t realize she actually needed help.”
It was easy to see what Rosa was thinking — her guilt was written into her face. Ridiculous to blame herself for Tiny’s stroke, but it meant that Rosa genuinely cared for his sister, and that made Dalton feel bad for being so harsh with her.
“I had no idea she was working so hard either,” Dalton said gently. “If she didn’t say anything, how were either of us expected to know?”
“You didn’t visit her much?”
He shook his head. “We spoke on the phone every week or so, but I haven’t been back to Lantana since my father’s funeral.”
“I didn’t speak to her that often, but she should have said something if she was under pressure. I wish I’d known that taking the job would help both of us.” Rosa shook her head, shifting in her chair. “Anyway, there’s even more to do now. Mere’s obviously been doing what she can, but…”
“You think you can handle it?”
Rosa lifted her chin. “Watch me.” She delivered the words in such a fierce tone, he felt himself start to smile.
Then he heard his mobile phone ring. He’d left it on his desk in the next-door office.
“I’ll be in my office if you have any more questions,” he told her as he headed for the door. “But mostly you’ll need to figure things out as you go.”
“I’ve got this.”
“I’ll bet you do,” he muttered too softly for her to hear.
When he answered the phone in his office, it was Frank, his company manager. They had a big deal in the pipeline. A chain of stores leaking money because they couldn’t compete with Amazon’s prices. He’d negotiated an excellent price to buy the entire business, and would triple his money on the buildings alone, let alone when he parceled up the stock to on-sell in smaller lots.
“I’ve emailed you the paperwork,” said Frank. “You’ll fly to Perth to work through the details?”
“Not now. I can’t leave my sister.”
Frank was silent for a moment, obviously surprised. “You sure?” he asked finally.
It was too big a deal for Frank to handle, and although Frank had been working for him a long time, the only person in the world Dalton really trusted was his sister. But she came first. Which meant he’d need to rely on Frank more than he wanted to.
“You’ll have to go to Perth,” he said. “But I’ll be back in Sydney as soon as I sell th
e resort.”
“The company takeover is three weeks away. We’ll need to have everything worked out by then, or the holding costs will mount quickly.”
Three weeks wasn’t long to sell the resort and do a handover to the new owner, but it would have to be enough. The profit when he sold the company’s assets would more than double his net worth. Good timing, when he thought about getting Tiny settled in a new place, with the best care money could buy.
“I’ll be back to handle the takeover,” Dalton said. He’d just have to sell the resort and get Tiny back to Sydney within the next couple of weeks.
When he hung up, he put in a call to the real estate broker he’d listed the resort with.
“Any progress?” he asked, pulling the wooden carving he’d started working on out of his drawer.
Working wood was a skill he’d taught himself as a boy, the one thing he’d kept from his childhood in Lantana. From boarding school to the boardroom, carving had always focused his mind.
Now he was working on a cane for Tiny. Its handle was smooth and easy for her to grip, and Lantana flowers curled up the cane’s stem, with small birds — silvereyes — perched among them. Though Tiny wouldn’t be able to live in Lantana anymore, she’d be able to carry a small piece of it with her. Hopefully it would be enough.
“Actually, I was going to call you today,” said the realtor. “As I mentioned before, your asking price is low. There’s been some interest, but I wanted to check the financial statements are right. They show the place has been making a loss?”
“The numbers are right. It has.” It felt strange to finally have that fact in the open, but it wasn’t as though Tiny could hear him. She’d be horrified if she knew, which was why he’d always kept it from her. And it had been easy enough. Their parents had left them equal partners in the resort, so he’d simply made regular payments to top up the bank account, and had the accountant explain them to her as tax refunds and credit readjustments. Tiny had already suffered enough, and if he could make her life easier and give her the life she loved, why not? There’d been no reason for her to know the resort wasn’t paying its way.
“Oh.” The realtor was silent a moment, then cleared her throat. “Okay. Well, that explains your asking price. And even making a loss, I think the buyer I’ve got lined up will still be interested.”
“Good. I need it sold right away, and I want the new owner to take possession within two to three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” she repeated faintly. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“The asking price is low for a reason.”
“Okay. I’ll put pressure on the buyer I’ve been talking to. If he’s serious, he’ll want to visit to take a look at the place. Have you got a room available for him to stay?”
If Mere had done as he’d asked and cancelled as many bookings as possible, they should have plenty of rooms available. “I’ll find space for him,” he promised.
After their call, Dalton leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Through his open window, he could smell the small white Lantana flowers that grew wild all over the island. Outside in the trees, birds were singing. And faint but unmistakable, he could hear the constant sound of the waves.
His chest ached with the familiarity of it all. He’d loved this island once, before everything had gone wrong. Tiny still loved it, and he hated that he had to take her away from it. “Hard choices,” he murmured. He was no stranger to them. Nobody knew better than he did how good things could turn bad. Like the island had for him. And now it had finally turned bad for Tiny too, because staying here could kill her.
He got up and shut the window, and although he had a ton of work to do, he picked up his chisel and worked on his carving, losing himself in the satisfaction of working a shape into the wood. The shavings fell onto his desk and his floor, and that made him feel good, too. The carving process was both creation and destruction. But in his current mood, the destruction part was a whole lot more satisfying.
5
Rosa’s new living quarters on Lantana Island had one small bedroom, an attached mini-kitchen and bathroom, and a sitting area that was only just big enough for a double-seater couch. The space was even smaller than her tiny apartment at home, but with its gauzy curtains and brightly patterned bedspread, it seemed much prettier. It was set well back from the guest bures and the beach, and there were two other units on either side — one for Mere, and one for the resort’s chef, Celina. A vase filled with fresh flowers had been left on the wooden dresser, and the room was fragrant with their scent.
Rosa woke up there the morning after her arrival. This early it was a little cold. Well, chilly enough that she’d pulled the bed sheet over her, which was probably the coolest it ever got on Lantana Island. She’d felt a bit jet lagged last night, but once she’d fallen asleep she’d slept well. Perhaps because Otto was two thousand miles away. Or maybe it was the fresh sea air. Or the deep silence, broken only by the chirps and clicks that had been coming from a couple of small, fat lizards — geckos — that had been on her ceiling.
Now there was only one gecko. Had it mated with the other one during the night, or eaten it? Or perhaps it had seduced it, exhausted it with wild lizard sex, and then eaten it. She could imagine Dalton doing something similar. He probably used his buccaneer looks to seduce women, and then, when they were exhausted from a night of unimaginable pleasure—
Rosa cut off the thought with an impatient sound and sat up. She wasn’t going to lie around dreaming about Captain Ass-Wipe. She had a wedding to put together and only four days to do it.
Rosa sucked in a deep breath through her nose, held it for the count of three, then hissed it out through her teeth. Rosa Roughknuckles could handle it. The new her could deal with anything.
Which reminded her. She needed to learn how to defend herself. Before leaving Australia she’d taken some beginner karate lessons, but here at Lantana, lessons weren’t an option. Instead, she’d been watching fight training videos on YouTube so she could practice the moves on her own.
But for now the wedding was more important. First she’d call her sister, then she’d get to work.
She grabbed her cellphone off the dresser and opened a video chat window. It rang for long enough Rosa thought it was going to click to voicemail, but then a fuzzy, dark image came on the screen. Carin’s face, puffy with sleep. Her long hair stuck out at all angles.
“What kind of time do you call this?” groaned her sister.
“It’s six o’clock here,” said Rosa. “Doesn’t that mean it’s eight o’clock there? I thought I’d catch you before work.”
“No, dummy, it’s four in the morning here.” Carin yawned. “I thought you were the ultra-organized one?”
“Sorry. Want me to call back? I was just ringing to let you know I got here safely.”
“I’m awake now.” Carin drank some water from a glass on her bedside table, then propped her pillows up and settled back on them. “So tell me about the island. What’s it like?”
Rosa sat cross-legged on her bed, gazing out at the trees. The dawning sun touched the top of the leaves with gold. “Exactly like the pictures I showed you, only even more beautiful, if you can believe it.” Rosa described the resort and told her sister about her brief visit with Tiny. She hesitated before mentioning Captain Ass-Wipe, but finally said, “Tiny’s brother is here, looking after her.”
“Her brother? His name’s Dalton, right? I thought he was a deranged serial killer on death row.”
Rosa snorted. Though Carin was two years younger, the rumors must have made the leap from year to year at their school like a nasty virus, growing stronger as they went.
“I hadn’t heard that one,” she said.
“So spill. Which of the rumors is true?”
“All I know is he has nice eyebrows.”
“Nice eyebrows?”
“One of them has a scar going through it, so it looks like it’s broken. It makes him look like a freeb
ooter.”
“You’re weird, you know that?”
“So people tell me.” Rosa pictured Dalton. “It’s not just his eyebrows. He has this shaggy black hair that looks windswept even when he’s inside. And he was shirtless.”
“Shirtless?” Carin raised her eyebrows, interest in her voice. “He’s hot?”
“Like a freebooter,” repeated Rosa patiently. Had Carin not heard her the first time? “But he’s also really mean.”
“Most serial killers are.”
“How are your rehearsals going?” asked Rosa. Her sister had scored the lead role in a stage production of Lady Windermere’s Fan.
“Life is far too important a thing to talk seriously about.” Her sister gestured theatrically with her free hand as though on a stage.
“A quote from the play?”
“Not one of my lines, unfortunately. But Oscar Wilde’s a genius. I only wish you were going to be here to see us perform.”
“I’m sorry to miss it,” said Rosa. “Listen, I’d better not talk too long. Everything’s okay with you?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.” Carin glanced up, her expression suddenly pensive. “Everything’s great.”
“I can’t believe you’re an actress. You’re the worst liar in the entire universe. How do they let you do plays?”
Carin sighed. “Okay, I should probably tell you. Not that you can do anything about it, and I don’t want you to worry. But I caught someone looking in my window yesterday, and I think it might have been Otto.”
“What?” Rosa scrambled off the bed and stood up. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I got a fright, that’s all. By the time I got outside, he was gone.”
“You went out to confront him? Are you crazy?” Rosa paced around her little bedroom, pressing the phone to her ear hard enough to hurt.
“I probably should have stayed inside and called the cops, but I was pissed off, and maybe not thinking clearly.”
