Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“Two hours! You expect me to stay awake for two hours at five in the morning? That’s never going to happen.”
“That’s what the cane is supposed to be for. Keeping you focused if you need it. It’s not supposed to be for teaching basic manners, but we can use it for that if you need it.” Soren winks at me.
“Ugh! Fuck! I really don’t want to do this anymore. I know I’m stuck here, but I’m not doing any of the meditation stuff. In fact, I’m not doing anything. I’ll wait for the boat.”
“You’re going to get hungry down there at the dock,” Jason says. His tone suggests it’s a trump card, like he’s going to be able to control me by rationing food.
“No,” I say. “I won’t.”
“How do you figure? I’d bet good money those bags have a whole lot of designer clothes, maybe a few snacks, but no real rations.”
“There’s a river. I’ll catch a fish.”
Jason folds big, muscular wet arms over a big, muscular wet chest, casts a smug glance over at Soren, then back at me. Oh he thinks he’s got me now.
“And what are you going to catch fish with?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a fishing pole?”
He shakes his head. “We’re not giving you a fishing pole.”
And here it is. The most satisfying part of my vacation so far — and considering I already pushed this jerk into the river, that’s saying a lot. These two have me pegged as some spoiled, useless brat from a distant city. And they’re sort of right. But before that, I was a spoiled, useful brat from the country. I can fish. I can do other things, too.
I am enjoying myself immensely. I kneel down, open a pink shell case, and start assembling my rod. They’re watching me, sort of stunned, like they’ve never seen a woman with a custom-built fishing rod before. I have a tackle box to match, naturally, and another little case with my emergency supplies. I had hoped to avoid dipping into them so soon but needs must.
2
Soren
Jason and I watch as Aslin sets up a little pink camp stool right at the end of the dock, breaks out a little pink cocktail shaker, and proceeds to not only bait and cast her line, but make herself a bloody mary. This is supposed to be the first meditation of the retreat. We should be putting a stop to this, but hell if I’m not impressed.
“Looks like she can take care of herself,” I muse.
“Told you she was more trouble than she was worth.”
Jason’s still annoyed about being pushed into the river. I don’t think he’s going to forgive her until he gets his hands on her. Good news is, that’s not going to be long with the way she acts.
“She’s feisty,” I agree.
“You like her,” he accuses me, brows drawing down over his eyes like he thinks I’m crazy.
“It won’t help to not like her.”
“I don’t like her,” he says. “Ten grand each is not enough to put up with that shit for twelve weeks. We undercharge for these things.”
“Most people don’t have twenty grand to spend on a vacation. Look on the bright side. She’s going to keep you on your toes. You’ve gotten slow, Jase. Nobody would have been able to push you in a river a year ago. This will be good for both of us. We need a challenge as much as she needs to be taken care of.”
He rubs his hands together. “I’ll take care of her, alright.”
Aslin
“So. Where did you learn to fish?”
Soren is beside me, crouching next to me, a curious look on his handsome face. He has a faint growth of dirty blond beard hair coming through. Both of these men are very attractive. I suppose that helps when they charge the earth for their services. I imagine most women coming here probably fall down at their feet, drooling. I wonder how often these expensive vacations turn into remote fuckfests. Probably not that often, given how tense these guys are. There’s some small part of me that wouldn’t mind being at their feet, but it’s not a part I intend on showing anybody ever.
“Fishing camp for ill-tempered spinsters,” I say, without batting an eyelid.
“Uh huh. Don’t like personal conversations?”
I’m starting to think I might actually like Jason more than Soren. I don’t enjoy all this incisiveness. It makes me feel uneasy. Jason judged me unfairly and inaccurately as soon as he met me, and that’s the kind of dunderheaded thinking I’m comfortable with.
“Where did you learn to lure women to the Nepalese forest? Is that like, a module in the military?”
“You weren’t lured. You self-selected.”
I sip my drink and watch the lure drift down the river. Yes. I did this to myself. As usual.
Jason comes stamping down the dock hard enough to frighten the fish.