Page 11 of Red King
“Whatever,” I mutter to myself as I place my bags onto a cart. What difference does it make? I heft first the one bag and then the other. I was told to pack for a tropical climate with high humidity and lots of rainfall, with temperatures that can scorch. Plenty of bug spray and sunblock were recommended, too. I threw in a couple of sweaters and a jacket, just in case. I would rather be prepared than sorry. I’ve probably overpacked, considering I will receive a uniform. We can also order supplies, but it might take time for them to be delivered.
I’m not sure why they couldn’t check my bags straight onto the next flight. It would have saved me the hassle of having to check them all in again.
I head outside, wincing against the bright sun. Then I rummage in my purse and pull out a pair of sunglasses, putting them on before continuing.
Better.
It doesn’t take long to reach the statue. There are several people assembled there. I push the cart over and look at my watch. I’ve made it with five minutes to spare.
I look around, since I have no idea who I’m meeting and who the others are. I wonder if it is the small group already assembled here. I catch the eye of an attractive middle-aged woman.
“Are you also waiting for Marcel?” she asks.
“Um…yes.” I nod. “You, too?”
She nods back. “Yes, we’re waiting for him as well. I’m Jessica. I’m a doctor. This is Mark.” She points to a guy in his early twenties. “He’s a chef. Cathy is our Communications Liaison Officer.”
“Hi.” Cathy looks like she could be around thirty. She has thick, blonde hair and blue eyes.
“A Communications Liaison Officer, you say?”
Cathy nods. “Yep. I’m an events organizer. I run my own business, but this was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”
“I’m Paisley.” I shake her hand and then start shaking hands with the others in the group.
“I’m Russel.” A guy shakes my hand. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes and thinning hair. I suspect that he isn’t as old as he looks. “I’m a head chef. This is Carter, one of my line cooks.”
“Good to meet you.” I shake their hands, too.
It doesn’t take long before a few others join. Another cook and several housekeepers. We introduce ourselves.
“What do you do, Paisley?” Jessica asks.
“I’m an ER nurse.”
“So, we’ll be working together, then,” Jessica says, looking excited.
“Yes.”
“From the emergency room to a small clinic on a remote island.” Jessica lifts her brows.
“I decided I needed a change. Something less…stressful, I guess.” I pull in a deep breath and smile. “So I took the position. As Cathy said, the package was just too good to turn down, and I’ve been meaning to travel.”
“Travel has always been on my bucket list,” Cathy says.
“I think we probably all feel the same. I’m itching to get there. I’m so glad it’s tropical weather. I’m from Boston, and we’ve been knee-deep in the snow.” Jessica raises a perfectly groomed brow.
“Hi.” A woman with rosy cheeks arrives. She has curly, brown hair and a warm smile. I think she might be around my age, probably even a little older. “I worked at the Hilton for several years as head of housekeeping but decided I wanted a break, too, and here I am.” I like her right off the bat. “How rude.” She laughs. “I’m Margaret, but you can call me Maggie,” she adds, still smiling.
“Maggie,” I say. “Do you—?” I start to ask when a man walks up to us, taking long, confident strides.
“Hello, everyone, I’m Marcel Baker. You can call me Marcel,” the man says as he walks up to us. He’s wearing dark blue jeans, a button-down shirt with no tie, and a smart linen jacket. He’s in a pair of funky Adidas sneakers, which are at odds with the rest of his outfit but somehow work. “Welcome to the adventure of a lifetime.” His eyes sparkle, making butterflies flutter in my stomach. “I’m going to take you through your orientation this morning. There will be a few more pesky documents to sign, as well. Then it will be lunch, followed by the flight to the island.”
“More paperwork?” the head chef says. Russel, I think he said his name was.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. It has to do with the orientation,” Marcel says. “Please put your luggage in the SUVs.” He gestures to the three waiting vehicles.
“Let’s ride together,” Maggie says, her eyes glinting in the late morning light.
