AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Amelia pokes me with her bare foot from where she’s sprawled on her lounge chair. “So.” She does it again, and it only mildly irritates me this time since I’ve just downed half the cocktail. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Am I? This feels sort of like running away. Not bad but… running. I sigh. “I was hoping Harley could make it.”
“Your friend?”
I nod and she crawls over the giant lounge cushions behind me. “It’s okay, you’ve got me and Haydyn.”
Smiling, I drain the rest of my glass, my gaze drifting back to the dark-haired man. Apart from the blond, a lot of the men here are older, and I guess, soft… soft compared to him. He just commands attention, even doing absolutely nothing, and I can’t help wondering who he is.
“That man in black?” I mutter, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
She glances over as Haydyn splashes in the pool with an actor and actress I recognize from a hit television show. “Haven’t seen him or his friend on the ship before now. But there are always people coming and going, so they may have just gotten on board during this last pickup.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well?—”
“Brutus will know. Where is he?” She’s a self-proclaimed groupie of Brutus McClintock, an art agent whom I met in New York at a gallery opening. He’s around here somewhere, but I don’t see his beady eyes. They slither over me like I’m Kobe beef. It makes my skin crawl.
Amelia waves a waiter over—that’s the kind of yacht we’re on, one that has an infinity pool, full staff, and staff quarters—and orders us another round of drinks.
“I can find out from him. Brutus knows everyone.”
“Just mildly curious, that’s all. Don’t bother Mr. McClintock.”
The waiter walks toward us with full glasses, condensation beading on the sides as he approaches.
“They’re probably here for the big party. It’s a ritual before we dock at the island… which has to be seen to believed.” She sighs and leans back, a long pink drink in one hand as she looks up at the cabana covering that’s billowing in the sea breeze. “Some stay, some go.”
Funny thing is, each time I considered getting off the ship as we’ve sailed around Miami the past week, in and out of little islands with sumptuous homes, there are people coming and going. Like little groups of beyond rich people. And somehow, I’ve always been distracted by them and missed the call to disembark.
Which is fine. The yacht doesn’t leave for the private island until tomorrow. I still have time to decide if I should stay or go.
It’s actually nice being here. On this yacht, nobody’s interested in me. Or rather, they’re not interested in the public persona of Dakota Hunt.
Fame sucks.
Even the kind I have. Queen of Insta, YouTube Goddess. TikTok Darling. I’ve heard it all. And I’ve got my BFF Harley to thank for it.
But even a queen needs somewhere to hide.
A respite from the relentless lewd comments thrown at me online. And always from one person, SlyGuyZero. Just some kid somewhere, but his comments are everywhere, and often of the ‘show us your tits’ variety.
Social media retreats should be mandatory.
Although, coming to Miami had nothing to do with social media, and everything to do with an art show.
“It’s too bad Trent couldn’t make it.” Amelia sighs, smiling dreamily about her employer, the art gallery owner who displays my work. Trent Eddington loves my creations, says they belong in the halls of the best museums. And he wants to add one of the pieces to his private collection. It’s legendary, that collection. Priceless.
Only a very select few know of it.
Then again, he’s one of two who know who I am, art-wise.
Harley knows I’m Lavender Steele, but I’m not even sure Amelia has a clue that I’m the latest en vogue artist. And right now, that suits me just fine.
I want to indulge in the sips of eye candy the dark-haired man represents. He’s way too old for me. Everyone on here is, even Haydyn, who’s probably in his late twenties. Besides, I don’t think I’m of interest to him, not beyond my so-called status, which he couldn’t possibly know.
My last boyfriend was a guy I met in college—preppy, handsome, and a year or two older than me.
The man in black is his exact opposite physically. Actually, they’re like a photograph and it’s negative. So different.
