Page 44 of Windlass (Seal Cove #3)
“The oldest trade in the book.” Stormy cast one more glance around the room, then took in Angie and Stevie with one sweeping, searching look that told Angie she’d done a very poor job concealing the fact that she’d been pressed up against the wall.
“Let’s see it then.” Angie walked past Stormy before she betrayed herself any further.
“Quickly. Holden wants us to gather on the deck for the itinerary.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Angie laughed as she waited for Stormy’s reply.
“Don’t act surprised.”
“There isn’t a binder is there?”
“It’s a folder actually,” said Stevie. When they both looked back at her, she shrugged. “Kidding. Maybe.”
Stevie was not kidding. A thin stack of elegant dark green folders lay on a round white table on the porch, which they discovered upon their descent to the first floor.
Angie picked one up. Inside, two thick pieces of ivory paper nestled into the notched corners.
The left contained the itinerary for the weekend, the right the meal menu.
Angie skimmed it, seeing Stormy’s hand in the planning. They would certainly be eating well.
“Croquet?” Stevie, who had followed her out and taken a folder of her own, leaned in to point to the left. “She’s making us play rich people mini golf. She promised she—oh, whatever.”
Angie read the neat cursive script.
You are cordially invited to a weekend of festivities on Rabbit Island
Friday
Arrive and unwind with cocktails.
Dinner at 7:30
Fancy dress.
Saturday
Breakfast 8-9
Relaxation 9-12
Beach picnic lunch, weather permitting 12-3
Croquet on the green 3-5
Cocktails 5-7
Dinner 7:30
Fancy dress.
Karaoke following dinner.
Stargazing, weather permitting.
Sunday
Breakfast 8-9
Island walk 9-10:30
Rowing lessons and photos 11-12
Lunch 12-1
Tennis/Relaxation 1-4:30
Departure at 5pm
“She is nothing if not thorough,” said Angie.
“Hi.” Ivy arrived with Lilian, beaming at them.
They’d changed. Ivy wore a loose white shirt over striped, blue shorts, both of which brought out the healthy tan to her skin and the gold of her hair.
Lilian, dark-haired and dark-eyed, wore an elegant blue sundress, which Angie noted matched the blue of Ivy’s shorts.
She would have teased them about coordinating if they didn’t make it look so damn good.
Lilian’s hand hovered protectively at Ivy’s back, however, and the cover-up beneath Ivy’s eyes did not quite mask the purple tint to her skin.
But if Ivy wasn’t feeling well, she didn’t let it show in any obvious way. “Thank you all so much for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting us, goof,” said Stormy. “I missed the dress code. Should I change?”
“You can wear whatever you want,” said Ivy casually, but her tone sharpened in a way Angie thought was mostly teasing as she added, “except for cocktail hour and dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“The itinerary is mostly to prevent anyone from feeling lost,” continued Ivy. “You may all do whatever you’d like, of course. You’re my guests.”
“Do you get the sense that by ‘whatever we want’ she means ‘do exactly what this paper says’?” Stevie whispered to Angie.
Angie smirked. “Imagine what she’d do if we skipped croquet.”
“The horrors.”
“What’d we miss?” Morgan and Emilia arrived with their dogs in tow.
“Please retrieve your itinerary from the table,” Angie said in her best flight attendant voice. “Follow along and be aware that the nearest exit may be located behind you.”
“Lil,” said Morgan, opening the itinerary, “was this you?”
Lilian did not blush, but her lips pressed together defensively.
Angie laughed aloud. She should have guessed that of the two of them Lilian was the one committed to a timetable. Ivy met her eyes and winked. It was annoying, how natural she made winking look. Most people just looked like creeps.
“I brought extra sunblock,” said Emilia, “in case anyone needs some tomorrow.”
“I thought I’d give you a tour of the house first, then have drinks and watch the sunset before dinner. I don’t have a scheduled game for tonight—”
“Strip poker,” said Stormy.
“—but thought we could probably come up with a few ideas,” Ivy finished. “Stevie?”
“As long as it isn’t night swimming—” Angie began.
“I would love to go night swimming,” said Emilia, who was a freak like that.
“I’ll watch from the shore.” Angie’s heart leapt a little at the prospect of watching moonlight spill over Stevie’s body as she emerged from the water, Baywatch style.
“And I refuse to play strip poker,” Stevie said.
Stormy chuckled evilly. Angie contemplated the merits of strip poker and decided there was no way in hell she could keep a neutral expression. More importantly, she was in her thirties and trying to be less sleazy.
“Excellent.” Ivy clapped her hands together. “Cocktails?”
“Please,” said Morgan.
“Not in that shirt. Shoo.” Ivy turned to Angie, Stevie, and Stormy. “You, too. I see most of you only in scrubs. Make yourselves pretty for me?”
“I like to think I’m always gorgeous,” Stevie said with a flounce that contradicted her entire personality. “But you said fancy dress and I only brought one outfit.”
“So, wear it twice!”
“Is that allowed? Aren’t there rules against the peasantry?”
“Shush and go change.”
Stevie shushed, and they went to change though Angie made Stevie use the bathroom to prevent distractions.
She’d brought two outfits, and she wanted to make maximum impact, ideally devastating Stevie and teasing her all evening.
Her blood thrilled at the prospect. Then, once they’d broken up the party . . .
The walls were thin, but Angie liked a challenge.