Chocolate Beach (Chocolate Series) by Julie Carobini

Author:Julie Carobini [Carobini, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

While some people live on the edge of reason, I tend to hover closer to satire. Why depend on sanity, when life is so much funnier than that? I try to hang onto this as I head toward the tour office, and feel the heat rise within. Normally unruffled me is about ready to explode. Go figure.

I shove open the office door to Coastal Tours, just in time to catch Luann tossing a paperback novel under the counter. “Oh my goodness, you’re back!” she says, her voice overly loud. She smoothes her permed hair with her fingers. “How was your first international tour, sweetie?”

“Hello, Luann. My first international tour. Well, let me see.” I lay out a palm, and tap it with my other hand. “They were bored with the sights of wildlife and the sea, they don’t eat cheese—so much for taking them to Queso Jack’s for lunch—oh, and for some reason they seem to think that our little tour included pop star gawking. Know anything about that?”

She fans herself with a copy of Vogue magazine. “Not so good, huh? Shame, shame.”

I drum my fingers on the reception counter, oddly aware of how short my fingernails are. “So, you don’t know anything about this?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Luann starts shuffling and stacking the same files over and over. She has yet to meet my eyes.

“I mean, do you know who told our Japanese tourists that hunting celebs was part of our package?”

“Well … ”

I cock my head to one side, and stare her down. “Luann?”

She bites her lip. “Well, I guess I might have mentioned that it was a possibility.”

“Luann!”

“He, I mean, Mr. Holland, said to.” She sucks in a breath and abruptly covers her mouth with a stack of files. “Oh-oh,” I hear say her say behind all that cardstock.

I exhale, and let my shoulders drop. “Thanks a bunch, Luann.” I spin on my thick-soled shoes and heading toward Ty’s office. I burst through the door, and find him with his feet propped up on the desk, leafing through American Executive.

Doesn’t anybody have any work to do around here?

Ty looks up from his magazine. “Welcome back, Brianna. Are you all finished up for the afternoon?”

My hand’s still wrapped around the doorknob. I’m tired and cranky and have no plans to shoot the breeze this afternoon. “Just got back from a nightmare actually. Can you tell me, Ty, why we are telling customers to expect pop star sightings during our tours?”

Ty’s expression doesn’t change. Unless you count the slight curl of a smile forming on his lips. “As I recall, you told me over lunch that celebrities dock their boats near here. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, but … ”

“So, it is possible that when visiting our fine city, one might run across a celebrity or two. True?”

“It’s possible, but … ”

“Good enough.” Ty folds up his magazine, and slides it onto his desk. He drops his feet to the floor, and sits up, leaning his clasped hands on the blotter in front of him.

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