Our Secret Summer(24)

I shrug. “You think? Maybe so. Did you remember to pack the snacks? All this swimming has made me hungry.”

Then, before she can reply, I dive back into the sea and swim to shore like the coward I am. No more talking about Winnie. No more talking about Cristiano!





Chapter Eight


Isabel


When it’s time to pack up at the beach, Simone and Annika have to drag me out of the water. Already, we’re cutting it close if we want to rinse the sand and sea off us before work. My hair’s still damp and wild when I change into my uniform in Aura’s locker room, and Simone forces me to sit so she can give me a quick blowout.

I’m lucky she’s willing to put in the effort; she swears she doesn’t mind. Simone is great with hair, and eventually, she thinks she might try to make it her full-time job. For now, she spends most of her year working as an assistant to a semi-famous hairstylist in London. She’s told me a little about the job, how good the pay is, but then it has to be, because the high-end clientele can be extremely difficult to deal with.

“You should see these ladies, Elle,” she tells me over the loud whirring of the blow-dryer. “They’re dripping in Hermès and Chanel, and you know those De Vere bracelets everyone’s banging on about? This one woman had ten jangling on her wrist the last time she came into the salon.”

I look at my lap, trying to squash the rising guilt over keeping my identity a secret from her. I know so much about Simone. She’s from a suburb of London and has two brothers and a single mum, as well as an absolutely diabolical tabby cat. She bombed her first year of sixth form and decided she’d rather work any job, of any sort, than continue her schooling, which is how she wound up at the hair salon.

A part of me had hoped Simone wouldn’t know of my family or our company. Silly, actually, considering the UK is our second-largest market outside the United States.

“You okay?” she asks, meeting my gaze in the vanity mirror.

“Good. Yeah.”

“Nervous about tonight?” she guesses.

She means because of the big party, but yet again, I think of Cristiano. He wasn’t at the club last night. At least, I never saw him, and everyone I questioned (meaning, every employee on the floor) confirmed they hadn’t seen him, either. I doubt he’ll be here tonight.

I shrug. “Surprisingly, no.”

“Right, good on you, because you look absolutely gorgeous, and word is this DJ they’ve got tonight, Boréal, is quite hot, so one of us better bat our eyelashes. Obviously it needs to be you.”

“Why me?”

“Other than the fact that I’ve really done a fab job on this hair? Well, Annika’s hung up on Ethan, and Thalia has a massive crush on Valentina, and I’m…”

She lets her sentence dwindle as if she’s lost the nerve to continue.

I turn and catch her gaze. “You’re what?”

“I have a crush of my own,” she says shyly.

Simone, SHY?

My jaw drops. “On who? Someone here?”

Her gaze cuts to where Annika is chatting with Thalia. My eyes widen. “Annika?”

She groans. “No. Not Annika.” Then she lowers her voice. “Felix.”

“Aww!” I cover my mouth with my hands because I can barely handle how sweet and innocent she looks about her confession, and she immediately protests.

“No. No. We’re not doing that. Don’t. It’s the tiniest thing. Barely there, I swear. So don’t say a word.”

“I won’t,” I promise quickly. Then I grin. “Does he know?”

Her cheeks redden. “I’m not sure. We kissed, once. Right at the start of summer. But it was complicated then. I was hung up on this guy back in London and Felix didn’t seem to want anything serious, so I wasn’t going to upend my life for him, ya know? Summer flings are rarely anything special. It’s silly to let emotions get involved.”

I have the unyielding urge to stand and hug her, so I do.

She stiffens. “What? Why are you doing this? Let go of me.”

“You like him.”

“All right. That’s good. There, there.”

“Hug me back.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You hugged me earlier in the ocean.”

“Yes, well, a deceased sister warrants a hug, I think, but now I see I’ve given you the wrong idea about touching.”

I lean back and hold on to her arms. “Should I tell him?” I say, teasing her.

Her face is an immediate mask of panic. “Bugger off. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m kidding! Your secret is safe with me.”

I almost wish I could let her in on my secrets as well, but it’d change everything and I’m not ready to go back to being Isabel De Vere just yet.

I sit down again and she continues fixing my hair, using hairspray to make sure every strand lays just how she wants it to once she puts the gold headband in place. “By the way, we missed the chance to check off another bucket list item today at the beach.”

I frown, thinking it over. “Which one?”

“We could have gone skinny-dipping,” she says with a playful grin.

I laugh. “In front of everyone from work? How awkward…”