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Nico, on the other hand, was clearly already strapped in and ready for the ride.
“We’re the last?” He looked put out, and I could see he was calculating how this might have affected his chances, and imagining the others busily forging alliances, making friends, and agreeing on strategies. “I didn’t know that. How long has everyone else been here?”
“Uh… not too long,” Camille said a little vaguely. “Baz and I have been here just over a week and the other contestants have been turning up on and off since then. Bayer and Angel were on the flight before yours, so they’ve only been here a couple of hours longer than you. I think Conor and Zana were the first to arrive.”
“Great,” Nico said a little snippily, but then I saw him rein himself in and force himself to be charming. “Well, last but not least, eh? I can’t tell you how excited Lyla and I are to be here, aren’t we, Lil?”
“Yeah, so excited,” I managed weakly.
“Well, the feeling is very much mutual,” Camille said warmly, and gave my arm a little squeeze. “Now, this beauty”—she gestured to the largest boat in the harbor, a big gin-palace-style yacht moored right by the quay—“is our ride.” I looked across, taking in the glittering white and chrome, the stacked decks, the hot tub. Over Easy was painted on the hull in flowing letters, and below it in smaller writing Kupang, which I guessed was probably the home port, though I had no idea where Kupang was. A mahogany-and-chrome gangway stretched across the gap to the quay, and as I watched, a white-uniformed man began uncoiling one of the ropes lashing the boat to a bollard, preparing for… I’d been going to say takeoff but I was pretty sure that wasn’t right. In the prow, somehow completing the picture, was a stunningly beautiful woman with long silver hair, leaning over the railings and smoking a cigarette. As I watched, she lifted her chin and blew a perfect smoke ring into the still air. It hung there for a moment, rising into the cloudless sky, and then dispersed.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Camille said. For a moment I thought she was talking about the woman smoking, and the remark took me aback. It was true, but it also seemed a little objectifying. Then I realized she was talking about the ship.
“Um… yes, very impressive,” I said, trying to echo her enthusiasm.
“I think they’re pretty much ready to up-anchor, so let’s grab your luggage and get you on board!”
I was just turning to help the driver with our cases when a voice came from behind me.
“Excuse me, miss, may I speak with you?”
I turned, thinking for a moment that the speaker was addressing me, but it was one of the crew members, and he was talking to Camille.
“Of course,” she said politely. “What is it?”
“The captain would like to discuss the weather reports. There is a storm coming in. Two, three days away, so it is possible it will—” He stopped, searching for the word and then finished. “—dissipate before it reaches us. But—”
“Let me stop you,” Camille said with a smile. “This is a conversation for my boss, Mr. Ferrier. Shall I ask him to come up to the bridge?”
They moved off, still speaking earnestly.
Great, I thought, as Nico and I helped the driver heave the cases out of the car boot and onto the quay. A storm. Just what I wanted to hear. I just had to hope we’d be safely off the Over Easy and tucked up on the island before it hit.
“I’VE GOT TO be honest.” Nico was looking around the very cramped cabin we’d been allocated for the boat ride. “This isn’t exactly what I was anticipating.”
As I followed his gaze around the little room, I saw what he meant—rather than a plush double suite, Camille had shown us into a small bunkroom that resembled a cross-channel ferry more than a luxury yacht. It didn’t remotely match what I’d seen of the top deck, which meant, I was fairly sure, that this had to be the staff quarters. There was a tiny salt-misted porthole, practically at the waterline, two narrow beds stacked on top of each other, and so little floor space that we had to edge around our suitcases.
Still, there were beds, and there was also a working shower, which was really all I cared about at this point. And, as a small silver lining, it was highly unlikely they’d be doing any filming in such a cramped space, which meant I was safe for the moment. There was barely room for a third person, let alone a TV camera.
“I guess we won’t have to put up with it for long. Did she say how long we’d be on the sea?”
“No.” Nico was looking thoughtful. “But the implication was definitely that we’d be sleeping here tonight. This island must be more remote than I imagined.”
“Well, look, I need to shower before this bloody meeting.” I rubbed my hands over my face. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less than to attend an all-hands debrief right now. I wanted to eat my own bodyweight in carbs and then sleep for approximately eleven hours. “I feel absolutely gross. Is that okay?”
“What?” Nico was looking at a folder he’d found on the bed. “Oh yeah, no problem. I’ll jump in after you if there’s time, but I feel fine.”
I was about to respond, when the boat gave a sudden jolt. Nico looked up, his expression alert. I put out my hand, steadying myself against the wall. Seconds later came the shuddering roar of the engine kicking in. It ticked over for a few moments, and then the sound rose to a higher pitch, and we began to move. I felt my stomach pitch uneasily as the boat lifted against a wave and then rolled down. We hadn’t even left the harbor.
“I guess this is us,” Nico said. He grinned, teeth white against his five-o’clock shadow. “No going back now!”
“No going back,” I echoed, but my own smile felt anything but sincere.
In the shower, with the hot water running down my scalp and removing some of the sweat and grime, I felt a little better, but the strange shifting sensation continued, and more than once I had to brace myself as the ship caught an awkward wave. I was just rinsing the foam out of my hair when there was a banging on the door that made me jump.
“Who is it?”
“Nico!” he yelled. “And Camille. They’re ready for us upstairs. Are you done?”
