“Yeah, I know,” Celeste said. Though it only looked like a scrubby tangle from the outside, the bushes actually surrounded a perfect circle of closely spaced palmetto trees, making a thick screen so that no one could see in from the outside. In the middle of the scaly trunks was warm, smooth sand lying in ripples. Celeste sank down onto her knees. The air was warm and still and the sand felt like silk against her bare legs. She looked up at Travis, still standing above her. “Come here,” she said, reaching up and tugging at his hand.
Awkwardly, he thumped to his knees next to her.
Suddenly, an idea flashed through Celeste’s mind.
“Look, don’t worry about Nick,” she said, squeezing Travis’s hand. “Devon is the guest relations rep. That means she should have to deal with the whole party situation, not me. I’ll just tell her that’s one of her new assignments. She’ll love it. And Nick can have a great new target for his obnoxiousness too. I wouldn’t be surprised if we barely see him again all summer.”
Travis shrugged. “I don’t care what happens, as long as he stays away from you,” he said. Then he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. She shivered at the friction of his skin against hers. He kissed her slowly and she felt a little jolt of electricity run all through her. The stubble on his chin rasped against her skin. The stress of the meeting began to float away. It was just her and Travis now, floating together on a bed of soft, warm kisses that were making her body go all limp and—
Travis drew his head away.
“What?” Celeste asked, her eyes still closed. “Is someone coming?”
“Are you sure there’s never been anything between you guys?” Travis asked. Celeste opened her eyes.
“Because he sure acts like he’s more than just a customer.”
Poof. The bed of warm kisses disappeared. Celeste shifted her knees. There was a palmetto frond poking her in the back. “Look, don’t worry about it,” she soothed, reaching for Travis again. “I’m sure once he meets Devon, everyone will get along a lot better.”
For a long moment, Travis didn’t reply. “Okay,” he finally said. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like him.”
He lay back on the sand, pulling Celeste down with him.
As she lay in her boyfriend’s arms, staring at the black velvet night sky above them, Celeste thought that she might as well forget about towel-folding for this summer. Obviously, she had a much more important job in front of her: stopping Travis from bashing Nick’s face in.
And stopping Nick from acting like she was standing in front of him naked. Oh yeah, and keeping the Saunders family happy, at peril to her life. Maybe she should’ve taken a job as secretary of defense this summer. It would probably be easier than this.
Chapter Seven
Okay, I’m ready!” Celeste called, hanging upside down by her knees from a low tree branch. Her
braids almost brushed the ground. “Hurry up,
Travis, all the blood is rushing to my head.” She could feel the scaly branch pressing into the backs of her knees as she gazed at the inverted golf course.
The mid-afternoon sun was bright and glassy. The contrast between the green of the golf course and the brilliant blue of the sky almost hurt to look at. A few lone golfers were trailing across the seventh hole, but Celeste and Travis were safely hidden in the scrub on the far side. No one would come over here unless he or she was a spectacularly bad golfer.
“Hold still,” Travis said, aiming the camera. “All right, got it.” He pressed a few buttons and studied the shot. “Cute. You look hot with your face all red and squished up like that.”
Instead of answering, Celeste swung back and forth a few times and then with a giant heave pulled herself up so she was lying on her stomach on top of the branch.
“Thanks,” she said, looking down at Travis’s head below her. “You know, I have a direct hit on you from up here.”
“Not for long.” Suddenly, Travis tossed the camera straight up in the air. Celeste shrieked and stuck out her hand, just barely managing to catch it. Travis scaled the tree trunk and hoisted himself onto the branch next to her.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, leaning over to nuzzle her neck. Celeste giggled and leaned back.
“Okay, smile,” she said. Travis propped himself
against the tree trunk and winked at the camera.
Just as she was about to press the shutter, her radio crackled. “Damn!” Celeste stuck the camera in her pocket. “I knew they’d find me.”
“That’s what you get for sneaking off when you’re supposed to be working, you slacker.” Travis grinned and yawned. He slid off the branch onto the sand and stretched his arms over his head. “I think it’s almost time for my nap.”
Celeste unclipped the radio from her belt and pressed speak. “Yes?”
“Celeste, this is Rick,” a voice crackled through the speaker.
“Yeah?”
“A guest at the Saunders guesthouse would like you to bring over …” Celeste quickly glanced down at Travis to see if he had heard that name, but luckily his eyes were still closed. She turned down the volume on the radio and pressed it against her ear.
“Ah, here it is.” Rick apparently found his list. “Two towels, one glass of Perrier with lemons but no ice, a slice of wheat toast with butter and strawberry jam, and a copy of Us Weekly.” He paused. “Celeste?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Celeste said into the radio, resisting the urge to bang her head against the tree branch. Us Weekly? What did he think she was, a flight attendant?
“Look, Rick, just tell him—” Her father’s voice suddenly boomed in her head, like some sort of edict from God: Keeping the Saunders family happy should be your number one priority. Celeste gritted her teeth and sighed. “Rick?”
“Still here.”
“Tell the, ah, guest that I’ll be right over.” She slid
