The Siren KATHERINE JOHN (100 best novels of all time .TXT) 📖

dressing room and flung open the door to find him headed down the stairs. “That was fast,” I called, dabbing a coral stain on my lips.

“I have to make it to the bank before it closes.”

Cole had been strangely distant toward me all day; I figured we could use some time alone to talk about what happened between us last night, so I could decide how best to proceed. My horoscope this morning had emphasized that as stressful as today might be, it would also bring clarity, but thus far I was just confused. “Give me a sec. I’ll come with you.”

“I’m in a rush—”

“It’ll take two seconds.”

I slipped my feet into my sandals and pointed to the dress on the bed. “Can you return that to wardrobe?” I asked Felicity.

“Sure.” Felicity eyed me as I powdered my nose and checked my appearance in the mirror one last time. “You sure about this? He’s been in a bad mood all day.”

I lowered my voice. “You’re the one who said a romance would be good press. That pic you posted of him with his arm around me on set the other day already has the trolls buzzing. A snap of us walking hand in hand on the beach could make the cover of Star Weekly.”

“You’re speaking my language, but—”

“I’m going.” I cut her off before I could change my mind. “Do you have my A-pills?”

She nodded and checked her watch. “You still have another hour though.”

I was already beginning to feel irritable, the need for another dose prickling beneath my skin like an itch I couldn’t scratch. “I’ll take them with me.”

“You promise you’ll wait?” she asked.

I batted my eyes. “I promise.”

She deposited the precious little blue leather bag in my hand, and I blew her a kiss. “See you at home.”

In the hall I passed Madison, pulling on an atrocious lime-green raincoat. She started to speak, but I held up a hand. “Sorry, in a rush.”

I descended to the living room to find Cole already gone, but the driver lingered in the doorway, an umbrella dangling from his hand. He eyed my thin sundress. “Sure you don’t wanna wait till the rain stops?”

I grabbed a bottle of water from the craft services table and quickly downed my pill. “I’ll be fine.”

Even with the umbrella, I was soaked by the time I reached the golf cart, twenty feet away. The driver unzipped the thick clear plastic rain coating, and I settled on the bench next to Cole. “Quite a storm,” I commented as we pulled away.

He grunted.

“Not bad today, all things considered,” I offered. He stared silently at the rain running down the plastic as we jostled along the road. “Just curious…What made you guys decide to cast Madison?”

He shrugged. “No one else was available on such short notice after the other girl dropped out. Taylor vouched for her.”

Hmmm. That was odd; Taylor seemed to like Madison even less than she liked me. “Do you know why?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” he snapped.

His mood was darker than the skies overhead. I held my hands up, beginning to wish I hadn’t insisted on coming along. “No, sorry.”

We rode in silence the rest of the way to the bank. I was disconcerted; he was so into me last night—I’d been the one slowing things down. Perhaps I was too cold?

The golf cart pulled under the portico outside the small, coral-painted bank, and we both got out. “You don’t need to come in,” he said.

“Oh, I was going to get some cash. I thought I might—”

But he was already halfway through the door.

“I have to go back for the others,” the driver called. “Probably take half an hour.”

I hesitated, considering whether to head back with him. But I didn’t want to give Cole the satisfaction of thinking I’d only come along to be with him, and I did need cash. I gave the driver a thumbs-up and swung open the door of the bank. I’d have half an hour alone with Cole. Surely I could turn things around. Maybe I could even get something out of him, see what the hell was going on with him. With us.

I acquired my colorful foreign cash from a friendly teller with striking pink and purple extensions woven into a French roll, then sat on a tropical printed couch looking out at the rain while he chatted with a banker in the bank’s only office for a good fifteen minutes. By the time he emerged, the rain had cleared. He breezed out the front door without acknowledging me—probably thinking I’d headed back into town with the driver—and I hurried after him.

He stopped short when he saw the golf cart wasn’t waiting beneath the portico. “Where’s the guy?”

“He had to go get the others. He’ll be back in fifteen.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“The rain’s cleared. Let’s take a walk,” I suggested brightly, in an effort to lift his mood. “I’ve been wanting to check out the town.”

We set out along the palm-lined cobblestone road that led down a slight incline to the small harbor, skirting puddles and dodging dripping palm fronds. Ahead of us in the port, mostly sailboats and fishing boats bobbed on the still choppy sea, but a sizable yacht was docked just outside the marina. A boardwalk curved around the little port, lined with shops and restaurants painted in bright colors. I noticed a group of probably thirty people huddled under an overhang beneath a sign that read “Ferry, 10:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m.”

“Ferry must be late due to the storm,” I commented, scurrying to catch up with him, glancing up at the sky. Patches of clouds hid the sun, and the air was thick with moisture.

He spun to face me. “Oh my God, do you ever shut up?”

I inhaled sharply, taken aback.

“You never stop talking, do you? Is it all those pills you’re always popping? Or do you actually think I give a shit about what you have to say?”

I stepped back, bewildered, but the ground wasn’t