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

She looked straight at Riley. “I decided I wanted to eat out here. I needed the fresh air.”

“Laine, please don’t think because of last night you have to avoid—”

Laine cut her off. “I don’t avoid anyone.”

She could see Riley steel herself slightly. “Well, I do understand—”

“I don’t need your understanding. I simply need your assistance in gathering the information that I came here for. That’s all.” The words came out icier than even Laine knew she was capable of. She saw the change in Riley immediately.

“Okay, then, how can I take care of you for dinner?” Her words now carried an edge of their own.

“I invited Miss Winnie and her friend to dinner. We’d like to go to Café Martinique tonight.”

“Would you like me to make the reservation for just the three of you?”

Laine could sense this was what she really wanted to do. “No, I want you to join us. It’s your job, remember. I’m your job this week.”

“Well, all the guests are my job, Laine. But it will be my pleasure to join you. I’ll make reservations for six.”

“Yes. For six.” She stated it because she needed it to sound like it was her idea. She was officially a two-year-old.

“I’ll see you at dinner.”

Laine watched as Riley made her way across the walkway and through the lounge chairs of the guests. Men’s heads turned and followed her petite figure, outlined to perfection in flowing white trousers and a short-sleeved, buttoned-up black shirt with a ruffled collar. The two-inch white wedges she wore gave her legs a longer look than her height afforded her. And that black hair. The perfect curls made Laine tug at the back of her short blonde locks.

Laine pounded her hand against her head. You’re horrible, she chided herself. She’s been nothing but nice and you’ve been a jerk. You are a jerk. She mumbled the last line to herself. “She doesn’t deserve that no matter what you think of her.”

She reached over to the patio table and grabbed an apple. She bit into it with determination, hoping that wouldn’t curse her more than she already felt, because apples sure hadn’t done Eve any favors.

* * *

Riley tried to stifle her furor. “That little, pompous . . .” She had a thousand colorful adjectives she could pepper Ms. Fulton with. But none of them would be crass enough. True enough. She was just evil. Downright evil. Riley had no idea how someone could completely disregard another person the way she had. What made it so frustrating was Riley knew Laine was capable of being nice, but twice today she had intentionally stood her up. She hadn’t been stood up since that Valentine’s Day in high school when she had gone to school with an oversize card and a larger-than-life chocolate bunny, and her “boyfriend,” Ralph, told her to take them home with her and he’d pick them up later. She ended up eating the chocolate bunny herself three months later. Riley knew in her gut that Laine’s behavior was because she was embarrassed over last night. But if she had allowed Riley the opportunity to finish a sentence, she might have realized that Riley understood and was glad she could help her. At least she had been glad.

The sound of Riley’s shoes hitting the stone floors reverberated through the tall ceilings of the corridor. As she neared the front walkway, she saw Mia and Christian headed down the hall. She thought for a moment Mia saw her, but apparently she hadn’t, or she would have returned her wave. She watched as Mia ran her hand up the back of Christian’s shirt and playfully ran her fingers through the thick black waves of his hair. She could hear their laughter all the way down the hall to where she was. The yuck in her gut grew to nausea. Frustration at herself churned just as aggressively. And the desire for her hand to be the one running through Christian’s hair even she couldn’t deny.

* * *

Tamyra leaned back and closed her eyes as her toes received their finishing touches. The French pedicure matched her fingernails. “It’s been a perfect day.”

“Perfect.” Winnie slurped her virgin mango daiquiri. “I’m like a pig in slop.”

Tamyra cocked one eye open and looked at Winnie. The nail technician was rubbing lotion into her calf, and her body moved up and down with the vibration of the massage chair beneath her. “How many of those have you had today?”

“I’m on vacation. I’m not counting. Calories don’t count this week, so I’d appreciate it if you take no worries in what this here voluptuous frame consumes,” she said, running her free hand across her stomach.

Tamyra closed her eyes. “I’ll remember that.”

“That means tonight when Laine orders one of everything off the menu, you are to pay no attention to what I consume. I won’t talk about your ridiculous eating habits, and you just pretend I’m chomping on lettuce.”

A chuckle slipped from Tamyra’s throat. “You got it.”

They lay there with the sweet aromas of the lotions and the soft ambience of the music and lighting as the techs finished up their day of beauty and left them in a state of serenity.

Tamyra opened her eyes and rose up to look at Winnie. It was just the two of them. She rubbed the soft cream leather arms of her chair and leaned back, closing her eyes again. “Winnie?”

Winnie didn’t move. “Yeah, sugar.”

“I bet you’re really great with those kids at your school.”

“I am.” She sighed heavily. “I was made for the difficult cases. Just part of God’s calling, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

Winnie was silent for a few moments, then spoke softly. “So when did you find out you were HIV-positive, honey?”

Tamyra’s body bolted upright. Every ounce of blood rushed from her face. Had she been standing, she wouldn’t have been for long. Winnie knew. How? She was so private. So guarded. So careful. “How did you . . .”