Hurricanes in Paradise Denise Hildreth (english novels to improve english TXT) 📖

Riley couldn’t hide her shock. “You did that in two years?”

“In two years,” she said as she scooped out some sweet potatoes and put them on her plate.

Each woman began to sample a little bit of everything. Amid oohs and aahs as they tasted the various delicacies, they shared their impressions of the resort and discussed the weather—specifically whether the tropical depression would disrupt their week.

Finally Laine turned her attention to Tamyra. “So, Tamyra, right?”

Riley watched as Tamyra lifted her glazed eyes to meet Laine’s. A softness fell across Laine’s face when she took Tamyra in. “Tell us about you.”

Tamyra reached up and ran her fingers down the side of her glass. They pushed at the condensation until it made a clear puddle on the tablecloth below. “Not a lot to tell, honestly.”

“Don’t let her fool you,” Winnie piped in. “This young woman is a beauty queen.”

Tamyra turned her expressionless face to Winnie, then back to Laine. “I give up my title in two weeks.”

Laine took a drink of her martini. “Happy?”

“Ambivalent.”

“Know what you’re going to do when it’s over?”

Riley watched it all intently. Laine’s questions came with the fluidity of a friend at a standing weekly dinner.

“Not sure what I’m going to do tomorrow, honestly.” Tamyra shifted in her seat as Derrick and another waiter began to remove the emptied appetizer plates from the table.

“What would you like to do?” Laine pressed. Riley wasn’t sure how far she’d get.

“Two months ago I could have told you,” Tamyra said, putting her fork down by her plate and looking straight at Laine. “But six weeks ago, I sold everything I had, retreated to a friend’s little bungalow in Cozumel and spent time reflecting on my life and my future. Then they moved back in and I wasn’t ready to go home. A friend told me about the Atlantis a while back, so I decided to give myself one more week away from home, and this is where I decided to spend it. Next Saturday I’ll go back home. And that is absolutely all I know today.”

Riley moved her elbows from the table while they finished clearing the dishes to ready them for the main course. “You sold everything you had?”

“Everything but what I could fit into a rental car, because I sold my car, too.”

Now Riley had questions of her own. “How does a young woman like you make a decision like that?”

“One day can change everything.”

Winnie reached over and patted her hand. Riley could all but see her mothering rise to the surface. “Yes, it can. And it can all turn around in a day too.”

Laine absently moved her notebook farther from her plate.

Winnie didn’t miss it. “What do you write in there?”

Laine turned toward Winnie, removing her gaze from Tamyra. “In here?” She patted her notebook.

“Yeah.” Winnie scooted up as if she were about to get something worth delivering to the National Enquirer.

“I write the details of what I see, the texture of the food, the ambience of the lighting, the feel of the room. My readers want to think they’re here. So I bring them here with my words. That’s why we’re trying everything. I’m not sure what my characters may want to eat.”

“You do that! I just got through reading chapter after chapter and you so had me right there, as if I could step out and touch the man-made shore of Dubai.”

Laine nodded. “Well, thank you, Winnie.”

“So you just let the story determine itself?” Riley asked.

She glanced at Riley. “I let the story take me wherever it wants to go.”

Winnie wrinkled her nose. “So you don’t have to know how it ends for your publisher to be willing to say he’ll publish it?”

The chuckle came out as a puff. “I’ve sold thirty million books, Miss Winnie. I don’t even have to tell my publisher what my story is about. As long as he knows I’m somewhere researching for a new book, he’s happy.”

Winnie laughed. “Of course he is.”

Derrick and two other servers laid the main courses on the table. But there wasn’t enough room, so they agreed to serve them in two rounds. Winnie looked at the filet in front of her. “I was craving beef.”

The main courses were half-eaten when Riley finally leaned back in her chair again. She was certain her stomach had never been so full. She was also keenly aware that Laine had barely had to talk. Winnie had carried most of the conversation talking about Laine’s books, giving Laine ample time to down another martini.

Near the end of the meal, Winnie put her fork down and looked at Tamyra. “You don’t eat meat?”

“I’m a vegan.”

“You’re a what?” Winnie leaned across the table, her blue eyes wide. “Vegetarian, I know. Vegan, I’m clueless. I teach kids who would be grateful for a pack of peanut butter and cheese crackers, and I come from a family who thinks fried foods are a food group. So help me out with vegan.”

“We try not to consume animal products of any kind.” Her expression didn’t encourage further dialogue.

Winnie’s furrowed her brow. “Does that include milk?”

“I try to stay away from dairy whenever I can. But sometimes it sneaks in there. I just try to eat food in its most natural form.”

Winnie raised her denim-clad arm and pushed at the hidden hanging flesh underneath. “Probably why you look like that and I look like this.”

For the first time that evening, Tamyra laughed.

Derrick came and served the desserts, which kept mouths full so that Winnie’s groans of delight were about all that was heard. Until Laine had finished and decided to inquire of Riley next.

“And what about you, O gracious hostess.” Laine’s words came out slightly sarcastic. “Where did you get the name Riley?”

Riley exhaled slowly, grateful that was the question she asked. “I got it from our mayor.”

Winnie’s brow furrowed.

“Joe Riley. He’s the mayor of Charleston and one of the longest-running mayors in the nation. And he is one of my daddy’s