The urge to explain why she’d done what she’d just done overwhelmed her, and she started toward Gertie’s office. Gertie shook her head then grabbed a long stick and used it to slam the door closed.
Veronica stood in the hall staring at the closed door, a lead balloon settling in her stomach and her arm itching and burning as if infested with fire ants.
She turned and slowly walked to her own office. She should have been bubbling with victory but instead felt as though she’d just let down her only friend.
20
Raffe stormed into one of the bars inside the conference center, sat down, and ordered a shot of Jameson.
“Rough day?” the man nursing a beer next to him asked. His white brows shot up over clear blue eyes. His face was tanned, and muscular white hairy arms stuck out from his faded red T-shirt.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Raffe replied, grabbing the shot glass from the bartender and shooting it back as he used to in college.
“Let me guess, it’s about a woman, right?” The old man laughed and ordered another shot for Raffe as well as himself.
“Yup. A woman who I didn’t want to like in the first place. Someone I started to trust and then boom, she turned out to be a liar, just like the last one!” Raffe tossed back the second shot as quickly as the first.
“Well, what do ya need her for? Nothing! Better to just walk away from her.” The old man held his shot glass up and then drank it back, a bit slower than Raffe did but still impressive for his age.
“You’re right. I don’t need her, or any woman for that matter. Much better off without them! Things always end up messy when a woman is involved.”
“I’ll drink to that!” the old man exclaimed, downing his beer and ordering another round.
Raffe grabbed a beer too and took a long swig. He didn’t need anyone, and certainly not Sarah. She had led him on the whole time. She didn’t even think he could cook! Screw her.
Sarah paced back and forth inside the bungalow, furious at herself for even agreeing to enter the stupid contest in the first place.
What had she been thinking? Opportunities like this don’t ever come for people like her. She should have known it was too good to be true and that Raffe was a jerk who would just screw her over.
He had needed her to enter the contest because it required a couple. He never intended to split the money with her. He probably had already rigged it so they, or he, would win, so he could take the money! So much for doing things the right and honest way and earning respect as a chef. That had all been a lie too.
The bungalow door whooshed open, and Raffe walked in, smelling of whiskey and bad decisions and reminding her of so many times with Harley. Sarah had been down this road before and had no desire to retrace her steps.
“You! You’re a liar and a cheater!” he yelled at her, waving his arms around like a madman and slurring his words.
“Me? Ha! You’re the liar and cheater! You are not who I thought you were at all!”
“Who did you think I was? Someone only made of money who needed his daddy to get onto the show? Someone who can’t even cook, so now you’re not even going to try to win this contest with me because I’ve already rigged it to win?”
Sarah rolled her eyes at him, her face bright red. His drunken babbling made no sense.
“That’s all that’s important to you! Money! You can just never have enough of it, right? You’re no different than Harley. It’s all about money and screw anyone or anything that gets in your way. Who cares if people get hurt, right? You planned to take all the money if we won anyway! Don’t try to deny it! You know what you can do? Take this ring and shove it!”
With that Sarah jerked the fake ring off her finger and hurled it at his head. Raffe ducked, and it pinged loudly off the sliding door behind him.
Sarah stormed out of the bungalow. Raffe Washburn and this stupid contest could go screw!
21
Raffe’s eyes jerked from the ring on the floor in front of the door to the slamming front door. What had just happened?
The argument had gotten out of control fast, and he just now realized some of what Sarah had said made no sense.
What did Sarah mean that he planned to take all the money if they won? Where did she get that stupid idea? Didn’t she know he already had money, his own money? And who was Harley, and why did she think Raffe was like this lying Harley dude when she was the liar? She was probably going off to meet Tommy or Harley right now!
He paced inside the bungalow for more than an hour, the whiskey slowly wearing off as he pumped himself full of black coffee.
The ring winked at him from the floor. He picked it up, noticing its weight. Wide and gaudy. No wonder Sarah kept fiddling with it. He stuffed it in his pocket. Not that he’d have another use for it, but he couldn’t see throwing it out.
Now that the booze had worn off, he wondered if he’d been a bit harsh with Sarah. She wasn’t even his girlfriend. She could do whatever she wanted to with whomever she wanted. She’d been off base to insinuate he was money hungry, but that was no excuse for calling her a liar and a cheater. He’d acted like a jerk.
Raffe collapsed onto the sofa, the ugly truth sinking in. He had pulled strings to get on the show. He had used his connections and lied about being engaged. He hadn’t paid anyone off or rigged the show, as Sarah thought, but he still wasn’t completely innocent. Maybe he was the cheater Sarah had said he was. The thought stung like a slap in the face.
He owed her an apology at the very least.
His head spinning, he headed outside for some fresh air. He walked slowly, following the path to the small row of resort shops. In the window of one, something caught his eye.
He stood mesmerized on the sidewalk, tourists in splashy outfits carrying colorful shopping bags zig-zagged around him. Making up his mind, he stepped inside.
Raffe returned to the bungalow an hour later, disappointed that Sarah was not there.
Walking out of the sliding glass doors, he looked around the beach and saw a cluster of red-striped beach chairs in a circle by the water. Hands shot up from two of them, waving him over. It was Dave and Kim.
“Is everything okay? We saw Sarah earlier, and she seemed out of sorts,” Dave asked, motioning for Raffe to sit.
“Yes. No. I mean, we had an argument. You know how it is. I don’t know. Maybe we just aren’t meant for this whole marriage thing. She’s probably better off with Tommy.” As he spoke, Raffe realized he spoke as if they really were engaged. He’d love to be able to tell Kim and Dave the truth, but he still held out hope that Sarah would join him and they’d win the contest. He couldn’t spill the beans after making it this far.
Dave and Kim looked at each other.
“Tommy? What do you mean Sarah’s better off with him?” Kim asked, confused.
“Well, he’s her ex. I guess. I don’t honestly know. She never really mentioned him, but she’s been preoccupied the last few days, and I saw some texts with his name on them. It’s either him or someone named Harley.”
Kim laughed.
“Raffe, Tommy is Sarah’s brother. He’s been in trouble for years. On drugs. Sarah’s last boyfriend, Harley, was a drug dealer and got Tommy hooked. The whole family thought he was an investment banker, but it turned out he was one of the largest heroin dealers on the East Coast. Tommy has been homeless the past few years. Drifts in and out of Sarah’s life. She hasn’t heard from him in months. She had a feeling he was here on the island and even looked for him one night. How is it you two are engaged but you don’t know all of this?”
Suddenly everything clicked into place. Was that why Sarah had snuck out of the resort? To find her brother? And that’s why she needed the money from the contest. To help her brother. And the text messages about Tommy weren’t about some ex-boyfriend she still loved. They were about her brother!
He’d made a huge mistake. He needed to find Sarah now and apologize. To put things right. To make her see that he wasn�
�t a shallow cheater and that she’d come to mean more to him than just a way to win a cooking contest.
“Thanks, guys, I gotta run!” He turned to go and almost ran into Jim, the show’s crew member. Crap! What did he want? Was he being summoned to Scott’s office again? Judging by the look of panic on Jim’s face, something was definitely going on.
“Hi, guys. Everyone needs to be on set in five minutes! The final contest is happening. Chop, chop! Move along!”
Raffe, Kim, and Dave looked at each other. “What? Now?” all three asked in unison.
“It’s not scheduled until tomorrow,” Kim pointed out.
“Yes, now. You know how the producers like to throw you off balance with surprises. This is one of them. Adds a level of stress. Head over to the conference center immediately, please. If you aren’t there on time, you’re out of the contest.”
A jolt of panic seized Raffe. “Wait! There’s an issue. Sarah isn’t here!”
Raffe ran his hands though his hair, looking anxiously down the beach. Where had she gone? But instead of Sarah, he saw Landon Barkley strolling toward them, his hands in the pockets of his tan chinos, a smug look on his face.
“I see you’ve been informed of the schedule change. I hope this isn’t stressful or inconvenient,” Landon said, obviously delighted at their stressful inconvenience.
“One of the chefs is missing,” Jim said.
Landon frowned. “Missing?”
“Well, not missing,” Raffe looked over Landon’s shoulder and across the beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sarah. “Sarah went out.”
“Out?” Landon tilted his head quizzically. “She must be on the premises. No one is allowed to leave.”
Raffe sighed. Maybe the guy would take pity on him. “We had an argument, and she ran off, but if you just give me twenty minutes, I know I can find her and—”
“An argument, you say?” Landon looked positively giddy.
Raffe nodded.
“And she stormed off?”
Raffe nodded again, a sinking feeling in his chest.
Landon clapped his hands together. “Marvelous! There’s conflict! Drama! And audiences love conflict and drama! The ratings will be sky high! Come with me, Washburn. You’ll finish the contest on your own.”
Sarah stormed down the pathway, the phone pressed to her ear. She wasn’t even sure where she was going. She just wanted to get as far from Raffe as she could. “I just want to come home. I’m done. This whole thing is a joke, Marly.”
“Calm down. I don’t know why he’d call you a liar and a cheater, so I don’t blame you for wanting to come home. But what about the contest? The money?”
Sarah had told Marly that she needed the money, but not the whole story. All Marly knew was that Sarah’s brother had some issues and that the money would be a huge help.
“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. I just can’t stay here and pretend anymore. I’ve had enough.” She stopped short. “Great! I just realized I don’t even have any of my stupid stuff with me. Now I need to go back to the stupid bungalow.”
“Maybe you should wait until you calm down a bit,” Marly suggested.
But Sarah was beyond calming down. She said goodbye to Marly and stomped back toward the bungalow, cursing under her breath. She’d left in a huff, not thinking about packing. She wanted to get away from the island right now. Maybe she should just leave everything, because going back meant she’d have to face Raffe. Too bad her purse, credit cards, and identification were still in the bungalow.
At least she’d made a dramatic exit. It was too bad her aim with the ring had been off and she’d missed Raffe’s head.
As she turned the corner to the bungalows, Gina almost bowled her over. The woman seemed to be in a hurry, maybe on her way to some sort of clandestine meeting with a lover. Probably with Raffe. But why was she carrying her knives?
“Where are you going?” Gina asked, a panic-stricken look on her face.
“Why do you care where I’m going? Don’t worry, it’s not anywhere with Raffe. You can have him all to yourself now.” Sarah felt childish as soon as the words came out of her mouth. That was so not like her. This thing with Raffe really had her frazzled.
“What are you talking about?” Gina’s eyes were round with innocence.
“Oh, cut the crap, Gina. I saw the photo of you and Raffe. Does your husband approve of that?”
The confused look on Gina’s face morphed to laughter.
“Oh, Sarah, really? You think I put the moves on Raffe? He was giving me advice on my marriage. He saw me crying. I’ve had nothing but problems with Tony for months leading up to this contest. In fact, it’s a huge reason I entered us in the contest,” Gina said. “I don’t care about winning. I wanted to be alone with Tony. I thought it would be a good bonding opportunity for us. Instead, Tony ignored me almost the whole time! I spilled my guts to Raffe. I was at my wit’s end, and he really helped me out.”
“He did? But you were embracing. I saw a photo.”
Gina made a face. “I don’t know anything about a photo. I mean, I think I hugged him after he helped me out, but the whole time he was giving me advice he gushed on and on about you. He’s obviously crazy about you.” Gina stepped past her. “But why are you wasting time about that now? We need to get to the conference center for the last challenge.”
“Last challenge? That’s not until tomorrow.”
“Not anymore.” Gina hurried off, her gold bracelets clanking as she called over her shoulder, “They made a last-minute change. It’s happening now!”
Sarah stood in the path, her brain trying to catch up with the conversation. Was it true that Raffe had only been helping Gina? The hug had been an innocent gesture? Gina had seemed sincere. She wasn’t angry or stuttering over lies like someone trying to cover up.
And then Sarah thought about who had shown her that photo—Veronica. She should have known better than to give the photo any credibility. And who had told her that Raffe was keeping the money all for himself? Veronica! She’d been so befuddled about Raffe’s supposed affair with Gina that she’d lost all common sense and believed Veronica’s lies.
She ran toward the bungalow. She’d been a complete and utter idiot! She had to catch Raffe and apologize before the challenge, before the relationship they’d started to build was ruined.
The bungalow was empty. Crap! Had Raffe gone on to the contest? She rushed back out and broke into a sprint for the conference center.
The doors at the chef’s entrance were locked. She pounded on them with her fist, yelling for someone to let her in.
“Ma’am, this is a live show. You can’t come in,” a security guard advised as he approached from behind.
“I’m on the show! See?” she fired back, showing him her badge. “You have to let me in!”
The guard eyed her skeptically, his eyes flicking from the badge to her face. Then, after what seemed an eternity, he got on his radio as she tried to decipher the static gibberish squawking out of the device.
“Sorry, but you won’t be allowed into the chef’s area,” the guard said. “The producer says it’s off limits now. The challenge is almost ready to start. You can sit with the audience if you want.”
Sarah stared at him, her eyes stinging with tears. She was too late? What now? Would they automatically lose?
She slowly nodded… She would sit in the audience. He pointed her toward the audience entrance, and she made her way inside, praying that Raffe could forgive her and that they hadn’t already been disqualified because of her foolish actions.
Stupid producers! Veronica popped four M&Ms into her mouth, barely chewing them before swallowing.
After all the work she’d put into trying to pull Sarah and Raffe apart so they forfeited the contest, that damn Landon Barkley let Raffe into the final challenge on his own!
He still had a chance to win, even if his cooking skills sucked in comparison to that mealymouthed Sarah. But she’d been counting
on getting them into such a snit about each other that one of them took off and they’d be disqualified. At least she’d been successful with half her plan.
Veronica reached into her purse and pulled out the vial of clear liquid and slid it into her pants pocket while heading toward the cooking area.
Passing Gertie’s office, she poked her head inside. She hadn’t seen Gertie all day. She missed her snarky comments. The old bat was kind of growing on her. In fact, she might even be the closest thing Veronica had to a friend. It was comforting to know someone who had grown up with a similar struggle, even if she was one hundred years older.
Something was wrong. Veronica’s heart skipped as she noticed the photos were gone from the walls. None of Gertie’s awards were on the bookshelf. There was nothing but bare, crappy rental furniture in the room now.
But today was the final challenge. Surely Gertie wouldn’t have gone anywhere before the conclusion. Maybe she’d changed offices? If the air conditioning vent was anything like the one in Veronica’s office, this one might have been too cold for the old woman.
Veronica grabbed the arm of a crew member who was walking down the hall and pointed to Gertie’s empty office. “Where’s Gertie?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t hear? Gertie’s gone.”
“What the hell do you mean gone? Where? To another office? Which one?” Veronica snapped at him, scratching the cut on her arm, which now itched furiously.
“Umm, sorry. I mean she’s no longer with us.” The crew member gave her a knowing look before pulling away and scurrying down the hall, leaving Veronica staring into Gertie’s empty office with a hollow in her heart.
22
Raffe stood alone in the kitchen, the hair stuffed under his chef’s hat damp with sweat. The bright studio lights blinded him but not enough that he couldn’t see the audience gawking at the one chef who had to complete the challenge alone.
Can't Stand the Heat (Corporate Chaos Series Book 2) Page 13
