Lies and Weddings(22)
Suddenly, Eden began to retch uncontrollably. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to make it downstairs in time, she leaned off the side of the boat and proceeded to be sick. Rufus darted to her side and held her steady.
Freddy sprang into action as though he was in competition with Rufus. He hadn’t exchanged a single word with Eden the entire morning, but now he knelt down beside her and began patting her back rapidly.
“I don’t think that’s really helping…,” Rufus interjected.
“Are you going to be okay? You want some ginger ale? Dramamine, maybe?” Freddy asked anxiously.
Eden glanced up for a moment, and before she could help herself, another wave of nausea overcame her and she spewed a torrent of vomit all over Freddy.
“Bloody hell!” Bea burst into uncontrollable giggles. Freddy froze, too stunned to react.
“Sorry…so sorry,” Eden cried as she coughed.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. This is last season’s Cucinelli,” Freddy said as he ripped off his sweater and flung it into the ocean.
“Great move. Now some turtle’s going to choke on ten-ply cashmere,” Laurel grumbled under her breath.
Rufus stood up and shouted toward the captain. “Captain Lee, we need to head back to shore immediately.”
“Sure. The nearest marina is by the Four Seasons Hualalai,” the captain answered.
“Perfect. Let’s get to the resort so Eden can convalesce,” Freddy said. “Eden, you must convalesce.”
Solène had watched the entire scene unfold with increasing irritation. She couldn’t fathom why Rufus and Freddy were paying so much attention to a girl who dressed like a deckhand. “I need some champagne,” she declared. “Who wants some champagne?”
Skip Notes
*1 In the British peerage, the order of rank goes: monarch > prince/princess > duke/duchess > marquess/marchioness > earl/countess > viscount/viscountess > baron/baroness. Where do you rank and what sort of feelings does this bring up?
*2 Yes, it’s that Captain Lee, taking a little break from the Caribbean, incompetent deckhands, psychotic chefs, and chief stews who will never be as good as Kate Chastain.
V
Hale I’a Da Fish House
WAIMEA, HAWAII ? LUNCHTIME
Dr. Tong arrived at a modest wooden building painted bright blue with white trim and walked up a little slope toward the queue of customers standing in the blazing sun by the outdoor counter.
“Tom! Over here!” Thomas turned to see Francis waving at him from across the parking lot. He smiled at the sight of the Earl of Greshamsbury incongruously dressed in perfectly pressed ruby-red corduroy trousers and a pale blue Ede & Ravenscroft Sea Island cotton shirt rolled up to the elbows, sitting at a table under a plastic tarp that had been strung up between makeshift poles. He knew there was nothing Francis liked more than finding little out-of-the-way places like this.
Francis gestured to the sweating bottles of beer and takeaway plastic bento boxes on the table. “I went ahead and ordered us the catch of the day. They have the freshest fish in the world here.”
Thomas removed the lid of his bento box to reveal delicious-looking grilled mahi mahi along with a heaping portion of wasabi pistachio poke and crab salad over rice.
“Hurrah! I was craving rice today!” Thomas happily remarked. “But what’s this—a brown and white rice mix?”
“Yes, they call it hapa rice here. Isn’t that funny?” Francis remarked as he took his first mouthful. “I should take a picture of the menu board for my hapa kids.”
“How in the world did you find this spot?” Thomas said as he dug into the deliciously spicy poke while looking out at the view of the ocean in the distance.
“Stumbled on it a few years ago when I was hunting for a quiet beach. Now it’s become my go-to hideaway—it’s the last place on earth Arabella would ever look for me.”
“Can’t picture her here,” Thomas chuckled as an inquisitive hen wandered under the table and began pecking at something by his feet. “Especially after the remarkable feat she pulled off last night at the welcome party.”
Francis grimaced, taking a swig of his beer. “That’s the problem. I’m afraid to know what she’s spending to restage this entire wedding. Might you, ah, see if your old friend might throw me a line?”
Thomas stared at Francis in surprise. Any mention of the “old friend” always jarred him at first. “Another one? On top of what you’ve already borrowed this year?”
Francis nodded cautiously.
“I don’t know…how much would you need?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Ten or twenty, maybe? It’s pennies for him.”
“What happened to the twenty million you got three months ago?”
“Half of it went toward paying off capital calls. The other half went toward this bloody wedding. I have no idea how we’re going to pay the next bill,” Francis said wearily.
“Francis, you’ve got to rein her in,” Thomas pleaded, even though he knew it was rather pointless to say it.
“I know, I know. Perhaps there’s something he might want from me…?”
“On top of what he already has? I don’t think he would take kindly to providing another infusion so soon. It sends a bad signal. Besides, he already owns too much of your assets. I’ve purposely structured the deal so that you can maintain some autonomy.”