Crash Site (Fiona Carver), page 11
“Why doesn’t Jude send him away?” Fiona asked, equally quiet. “Ruby Island is a personal holding, not part of the company.”
“I asked Thaddeus the same thing. He just shrugged. It’s got something to do with the business and the family trust, I think. Jude probably isn’t the all-powerful CEO he wants everyone to think he is.”
That wouldn’t surprise Fiona. There was definitely an odd power dynamic between the two men.
“So,” Sadie said, leaning in, “you never mentioned that the volcanologist was a hottie, Fiona.”
Paige’s eyes lit up. “Are you talking about Dylan? I finally got to meet him this spring and . . . wooo. It’s really criminal how hot both Slater brothers are, and they’re not even identical.”
Fiona was midsip when Sadie said, “Says the actual supermodel,” causing Fiona to spew out a laugh.
Paige snorted, something Fiona didn’t think women that flawlessly beautiful could do.
“Fine, but you know I’m right,” Paige said. “They’ve got this rugged-manly thing about them. I mean, come on. Volcanologist and wildlife photographer? Did someone read my hot-guy fantasy journal I kept when I was twenty-two?”
“Or when I was thirty-six,” Fiona muttered.
“Thirty-nine,” Sadie added. She grabbed a mushroom appetizer from the plate a waiter had delivered some time ago and nibbled on the edge. “So what do you think of Dylan Slater, Fi?”
“He’s one of my favorite people in the world. And yes, I’m saying that because we went through something together. But also, I really genuinely think he’s great.”
She remembered his words on Chiksook, proclaiming her family now, and how deeply she’d felt it in her bones.
“You interested in him?” Sadie asked. “I figured it was the other brother you wanted.” She nodded to the side of the room where, presumably, Dean was mingling with Jude’s guests.
“Dylan is an important friend. I love him like a brother.” She grimaced. Sadie was one of the few who knew about Fiona’s messed-up relationship with her brother, Aidan. Sadie had even met him when he’d visited Jamaica for a week while Fiona was there for Sadie and Chad’s underwater archaeology field school.
“So it is the photographer you want.” She nodded again to Fiona’s left. “Not surprisingly, he’s taking photos of us—of you.”
“But he doesn’t have his camera on him tonight. He said he was off duty.”
“He must’ve gotten bored and went upstairs to grab it, because he’s snapping away now.”
She turned and saw him, not participating in the party but photographing it. Her. She gave him her profile and sipped her wine. Let the wildlife photographer capture her in her natural habitat, doing what came naturally.
Except the Caribbean and fancy dresses were not her natural habitat. These days, she had trouble figuring out what was, though.
She loved her home state of Washington, but since Regan’s death, it felt . . . inhospitable. There were no jobs for her in the private sector thanks to her serious problems with Regan’s former boss, who owned a consulting firm and was extremely well connected in the region.
And then there was her job, which was miserable with the fallout from Chiksook. But maybe her spying while she was on Ruby Island would help there.
Except she was a tad upset the admiral had asked her to spy.
She’d really hoped Ruby Island would be the escape she needed, but instead it had only brought more complications. Chad and Sadie’s relationship had fallen apart, and Jude wasn’t keeping things professional as he’d promised.
And then there was Dean Slater, a man who filled her with longing for something that would never be.
Paige stood and picked up her cocktail from the table. “I’m feeling guilty. I promised Thaddeus I would mingle and make him look good. He’s got some business deal in the works with Jude. I might have screwed it up for him by not mucking things up between you and Dean.” She covered her mouth with her hands, her long, pearly white–painted fingernails a striking contrast to her dark skin as she grinned, her eyes lit with mischief. “Oops.”
Sadie stood too. “I’m going to turn in. I’m glad I stayed to hang with you both, but I am not up for circulating the room any longer.”
Fiona was about to rise and mingle after they left, but instead she took a deep breath and appreciated the quiet of being alone in a room full of people. She was good at extroverting, but she was an introvert at heart and needed to recharge.
Even though it had been a private conversation with just the three of them, it had been in a public place that brimmed with public energy, which had drained her social batteries.
She was in the process of mustering the energy to stand and socialize when Jude dropped down in the seat next to her. He set a glass of something bubbly on the table.
“A soda or cocktail of some sort?” she asked.
“Fizzy water. I notice that most evenings on the beach, you have a cocktail or two, then switch to sparkling.”
She picked up the glass and took a sip. “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Have you enjoyed the party?”
“It has been lovely.” Not that she’d participated much, but she refused to feel guilty about that. He was the one with voyeuristic friends and who’d invited Paige to hurt her.
She did not understand him even a little bit. He had more money than any person—or even a thousand people—needed to live comfortably for the rest of his life. He’d inherited his wealth, sure, but he was successful and smart in his own right. He’d designed his own prototype submarine drone that was going to be the next great thing, making the shipping business more profitable than ever, according to him.
He was handsome and, she knew from their past friendship, perfectly capable of being charming.
He also knew her number one rule—even above no field flings—was absolutely no sexual or romantic involvement with a boss, ever.
When he’d offered her this job, she’d reiterated that rule, and he’d agreed to abide by it.
Given his looks, brains, charm, and wealth, there were literally thousands of women in the world who would welcome his attention. Fiona had to be among a very finite minority of single women who weren’t interested—and even she had happily agreed to that one date.
It made no sense that he was interested in her, yet after tonight’s scene with Paige, she could no longer ignore the clues he’d been dropping since she’d arrived on Ruby Island.
Days ago, he’d indicated he wanted her to play the role of hostess of this event, but she was nothing more than a dig bum on the job. And then there was the hand on her back earlier, as they stood on the beach before the party even started. It had been a signal of possession, and she’d known damn well he’d been aware Dean could see the gesture from the balcony. Then Jude had done it again as he led her to meet his awful friends.
Truth was, he’d behaved oddly since Dean arrived, and from what Paige had said, he’d arranged for her to show up at the party that very first evening.
That thought reminded Fiona she was supposed to be keeping track of the names of the guests, but she hadn’t even circulated the room. She was a terrible spy, when it came right down to it. She drank her fizzy water, delivered by none other than the billionaire host, and mustered the courage to begin circulating the room so she could memorize names.
She wished she’d never been asked—let alone grudgingly agreed—to report what she observed on Ruby Island, but later tonight, she’d send an email to the admiral like a good little navy employee.
“Is everything okay, Fiona?” Jude asked.
She gave him a bright, fake smile and said in a low voice, “You really have the nerve to ask me that, after bringing Paige here?”
He frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“No kidding. Also, not a fan of you putting your hand on me. Twice tonight.”
“Did you tell Slater the same thing?”
She merely cocked her head.
“It felt natural. Both times. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t believe him, but this was hardly the place to get into it. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’m your employee, and it made me uncomfortable.”
“C’mon, Fiona, at field school we went skinny-dipping in the quarry together with the rest of the students. You cried on my shoulder when you got that letter from your mom on the anniversary of your dad’s accident. Hell, you took a nap with your head on my belly during our lunch breaks more than once. We’re friends, and friends touch each other without it meaning anything.”
His words were true. She had cried on his shoulder. They had seen each other naked more than once, and it hadn’t been a big deal, and there’d been a lot of casual touches back then. But that didn’t change how his touch felt now.
“We were friends. We were also equal—students who would return to separate schools at the end of the summer—but fifteen years changes a lot.”
“Duly noted. I’m sorry.”
He said the words with sincerity, and frankly, the reminder of skinny-dipping and naps that included nonsexual cuddling did frame things differently. Was she too wrapped in ego believing he was attracted to her to realize his behavior was based on a friendship she’d largely forgotten?
Kosmo approached, and Fiona had no interest in trading barbs with the executive tonight.
She sighed. “I’ve spent the last two and a half weeks trying to figure out if the man I knew fifteen years ago is still there. But there’s something equally important you should know about me. I’m not the woman I was then. That makes us barely more than strangers; we just have a few extra shared memories. And you are my boss.”
He gave her a wry smile. “It sounds like we need to get to know each other again. We should have dinner together. Just the two of us. We can take my boat out tomorrow for a sunset cruise. I’ll have the chef prepare us a special dinner. All my guests will be gone by then.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a date.”
“It wouldn’t be. Just friends. Talking about old times. Taking the boat out is the only way we can guarantee we’ll be alone, unless you want to have dinner in my suite?”
“Yeah. That’s a no.”
“Then the boat it is.” He gave her an admittedly charming smile, dimples and all. But then, she figured tuxedos and bow ties made everything look charming. “Pretty please?”
She thought back to field school and campfires and lunchtime naps and swimming in the quarry and reminded herself how much this man had meant to her once. Had he meant as much to her then as Dylan did now? It was hard to remember. She sighed. “Fine.”
She realized she should have gotten up and walked away when she had the chance, because Kosmo joined them, taking the empty third chair. “Ms. Carver, you should be mingling with our guests and not monopolizing the host.”
“Shut it, Kosmo,” Jude said.
She flashed a grin. “You heard the boss.” She nodded to Jude. “On that note, I think I’ll get another drink.”
She left the executive with the CEO without looking back. But she could hear Jude scolding his VP. What was Kosmo’s agenda? Did he view her as some sort of threat? Did he think she was going to use her womanly wiles to manipulate his boss?
She ordered another fizzy water from the bartender, then crossed to the open doors to the garden and stepped outside. They were on a hill, above the beach, and the open part of the garden meant she could feel the Caribbean breeze on her skin. It was time to get over herself and enjoy this project.
Contrary to Kosmo’s opinion, she was off the clock in paradise.
Except, even now, she was composing her email to the admiral in her head, with the list of guests she could name and asking again if he’d learned anything about the helicopter crash. Had someone from Dominica investigated and cleaned up the site without informing Jude?
It was marginally possible.
While Jude’s lease covered the entire island, the government of Dominica retained unlimited access rights to the fort. It was a protected historic property. Same with the portion of the island that was a nature preserve. After the fiasco of the previous lessee constructing warehouses on the fort promontory and dumping cannons into the bay, Jude was not allowed to alter or develop the historic sites or nature preserve. He could limit access, nothing more.
It was one reason for Fiona’s survey—to identify all the historic and prehistoric sites that were off-limits to any kind of development. She imagined it was the same for Dean’s wildlife photography. Set a baseline for what was present on the island. There was sure to be an environmental survey to follow, but best to get the photos now while the film crew was here for the documentary.
Given that the government of Dominica retained access to the fort, there was a slim chance there was no great mystery behind what had happened to the helicopter pieces. It was even conceivable they’d cleaned the wreckage to prevent it from being a blight on the landscape for decades, as the hurricane-destroyed warehouses had been.
But deep down, Fiona didn’t think so.
TWELVE
Fiona met with Sadie on the front terrace where the breakfast buffet was served every morning starting at six thirty, roughly an hour after sunrise. It was just before seven when Fiona was filling her plate with eggs, bacon, and fresh-baked pastries, marveling, as she did every morning, that this was field food.
Really, no project could ever live up after this one.
She sat next to Sadie at a round table with seats for four. A server delivered fresh orange juice, then retreated inside. The house, pool, and gardens were maintained by a staff of ten, who divided their time between Ruby Island and Dominica, as only a skeleton crew remained on the estate when Jude wasn’t in residence. Extra staff had been brought in to work the party, but as far as Fiona could tell, they’d cleaned up when the event was over and left with the dawn.
She sat facing Cannon Bay, in which only seven mega yachts remained and one was just now pulling anchor.
“I knew they’d be leaving early, but not this early.”
“The tropical storm in the Atlantic is making them nervous,” Sadie said. “It’s two days out at least—if it even heads this way—but I’m guessing they want to get as big a head start as possible in case it does.”
“Should we be worried?” Fiona asked.
“It’s hard to say anymore, with how intense hurricane season has gotten with global warming, but from the looks of it, I doubt we’d get more than the edge of the storm.” She nodded to the bay. “We’ll probably moor Tempus Machina in the cove by the fort, though. It has better protection than Cannon Bay. Jude says that’s what he does with Rum Runner when it looks like a storm is heading this way.”
Fiona nodded. Worry over damage to the boat from a storm was definitely a headache Sadie didn’t need.
“You taking the boat out for the dog and pony show for the investor today?”
Sadie grimaced. “Yes. We’ll do some filming and show off what the side scan sonar and multibeam profiler can do.” Sadie’s face was pinched, and Fiona wondered what had happened with Chad once again, but since they were likely to be joined by others at any moment, she didn’t ask. Sadie would tell her when they had time and privacy. “What are you going to do today?”
“Low tide is at ten thirty a.m., which is perfect for me to scout the littoral caves.”
“You need a field buddy for that.”
“I was thinking I could see if Walker is available—unless you’re willing to give up Oliver?”
“Nope. We definitely need Oliver. And I think Walker is needed at the dock, given that boats are still fueling up before leaving.” Sadie gave her a knowing smile. “I can think of someone who’s perfect for the job. Plus he can take pictures.”
So Sadie had signed on to Dylan’s matchmaking scheme.
“Et tu, Brute?”
“Not my fault you didn’t hire an assistant for the field.”
Fiona had wanted to, but Jude had insisted the laborers he’d hired to clean up the fort could accompany her in the field and wield machetes to clear the path. And while that would work well for expedited filming, it wasn’t needed for scouting days like today, when the filming would happen elsewhere.
Dean and Nico stepped out onto the terrace. As always, Fiona felt that familiar frisson at the sight of Hot Bird Man’s Paul Newman blue eyes. She wondered if she’d ever get used to seeing him like this, away from Chiksook and danger. Dylan safe and whereabouts known.
Could they do this? Work together? Be friends?
Last night in the garden, something had shifted between them. But perhaps not in a direction that allowed for friendship, because one thing she knew she couldn’t do was hope for more. And whenever she was near him, she wanted more.
Dean had been clear on his limits, and she understood why. He’d loved Violet with all of his heart, and he’d watched her die over the course of two and a half years. He’d been a widower at the age of twenty-five, having lost the love of his life.
She understood why he wasn’t capable of loving again. And she also knew she didn’t want anything less from him.
She didn’t do flings in general. She’d considered making an exception for Dean, but in the end, he’d been the one to say no.
So now here they were. She was full of feelings that had nowhere to go, and he was . . . fond of her.
She cleared her throat. “Dean, I need a field buddy today. And you know how I feel about the buddy system when it comes to fieldwork.”
His eyes warmed as his mouth curved in a smug smile. “I seem to remember you weren’t a fan until things went sideways.”
“That just means I’m capable of growth and open to new ideas.”
Nico snorted, while Dean let out a full-on laugh. “You mean you realized a broken leg while alone in the wilderness is potentially deadly.”
