Before Valerie could answer, Sienna sauntered up, holding a shell of leftover rice. She slid onto the log on Valerie’s other side, squeezing into the shaded spot under the branches. “At the rateshe’s going, you’re probably going to be paired up with Isla by the end of the day.”
“Seriously, though, why is she even doing that?” Isla asked, turning her head to look at Valerie. “Did someone tell her she had to? If she wants wood for the fire, there are literally thousands of perfectly dry sticks lying around. She could just collect those.”
“I have no idea,” Valerie muttered. And she didn’t. One minute, Adrienne was lying on the beach sunbathing, and the next, she had grabbed the machete from where Niko had left it last and started hacking at the tree. “Maybe she just needs to burn some energy, like a puppy.”
“Yeah, well, her toes are going to get detached fast if she doesn’t watch out,” Sienna chimed in, scraping the last few grains of rice from her shell with her finger. “This is giving me serious flashbacks.”
“What do you mean?” Isla asked, sitting forward just as Adrienne delivered a weak, sideways blow that did absolutely nothing but strip an inch of bark.
Sienna placed the empty shell down at her feet and leaned back against the tree. “Back when I was travel blogging—this was ages ago, way beforeThe Sapphic Match—I spent a month in this tiny eco-commune in Costa Rica. There was this guy called River who decided he wanted to build a sweat lodge.”
“Of course his name was River,” Isla said, already rolling her eyes.
Valerie had to admit that was kind of funny.
“Anyway, he got probably two hours into this project when he took his axe and swung it without even considering just how hard the wood actually was, and boom, the blade bounced off, he lost control of it, and the next moment his big toe was no longer attached to his foot.”
Isla winced, her shoulders bunching up. “Please tell me someone put it on ice.”
“We were in the middle of the jungle, Isla,” Sienna said, shaking her head. “There was no ice. But anyway, Jeremy, one of the other guys there blogging about the commune, had to kayak him downriver for two hours to the nearest town.”
Thwack. Valerie watched as Adrienne tried a downward slice, and the next second, the blade was stuck in the tree. Adrienne yanked it out, stumbled back a step, and nearly hit herself in the face. If Valerie were wearing her Garmin watch, the thing would no doubt be vibrating with a stress alert, reminding her to take a deep breath. But how could she when her heart was banging violently against her ribs? Not only was Adrienne about to accidentally amputate a limb, but her long legs, toned stomach, and perfectly shaped breasts were on full display in that ridiculously tiny bikini.
“What happened to him?” Valerie asked just to take her mind off Adrienne’s inevitable mutilation and her body. “Did they get the toe back on?”
“No idea,” Sienna said, shrugging. “I left before he came back.”
“You didn’t check his social media?” Isla asked.
“He didn’t have any,” Sienna replied. Then she stared out across the sand to where Adrienne raised the machete again. But instead of swinging it, she dropped it down and wiped a streak of sweat from her forehead with her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. “At least she’s doing something. It might not be anything useful, but it shows she listened to us at the last Sending.”
Isla wrinkled her nose just as Adrienne, who clearly had some kind of agenda, hoisted the machete again. “Honestly, it feels like watching my toddlers,” Isla said. “Tam’s parents got Benjie a golf set for the twins’ second birthday and so far, we’velost two flower vases, the glass screen on our microwave, and my favorite hand-blown glass cow figure from Switzerland we got right before the twins were born.”
Sienna chuckled, then said, “Should we take bets? An extra portion of rice says she drops the machete within the next three swings.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Isla countered. “Add in a scoop that she gives up entirely on the next swing. I don’t think she’s got much energy left in her.”
Valerie didn’t say a word. She just kept her eyes locked on the machete as it arced for what felt like the tenth time through the air.
And then it all went sideways. Adrienne brought the blade down and completely missed her target. The machete slammed into the hard ground right in front of the log and bounced off a stone with a sharp clack before ricocheting backward, missing her shin by inches.
Valerie gasped just as Adrienne gasped. The heiress dropped the machete like it was a cobra with its hood up and leaped backward, staring at her shin with wide eyes.
Isla’s head snapped toward Valerie. She looked just as stunned as Sienna. “Maybe you should go help her before she loses a foot. I’m shocked production hasn’t stepped in yet.”
All three heads turned toward the camera crew, only a short distance away. None of them looked ready to step in, which Valerie found surprising. After Isla’s injury, the safety protocols were stricter than ever. Someone should’ve intervened. Which was why Valerie had to save Adrienne before she killed herself.
Reluctantly—she’d rather eat a fried tarantula or walk on a bed of hot coals—she pushed herself up. “Adrienne,” she called. “Would you like to come with me to fill up the water bottles? I think we can all use some hydration.” She expected Adrienne to protest, but then Adrienne placed the machete gingerly againstthe bark of the tree she’d just tried to maim and dusted her hands on the sides of her shorts. Before Valerie could instruct her to fetch the empty bottles, Adrienne was already layering the lanyards of eleven water bottles around her neck. She looked ridiculous. Her neck was buried under the lanyard wreath, and when she stepped forward, the clanking of the aluminum bottles echoed all the way to the cliffs on the far side of the beach.
Valerie should help. She really should help before Adrienne suffered a disc herniation from the weight around her neck. But the grudge-keeping part of her brain won. So, instead, she walked off toward the path that led to the watering hole and didn’t even wait to see if Adrienne was following.
Not that she had to. The cacophony behind her was impossible to miss.
“Can you wait for me, please?” Adrienne spluttered, sounding exasperated. “Or at least help me carry some of these bottles.”
Valerie did neither. In fact, she didn’t stop walking until they reached the watering well, which was a raised stone structure sitting in the middle of a small clearing. Overhead, the crooked, silvery branches of wild olive trees and a few stunted pines formed a canopy that helped keep the midday heat at bay.
“What the hell is going on with you?” Adrienne asked, dropping at least half of the bottles to the ground. The other half remained tangled in a messy web around her neck, dragging her shoulders forward. “You’ve ignored me all of yesterday afternoon and last night.” This was true; Valerie had spent a good amount of effort dodging Adrienne. “And today you’re acting like I’m a ghost. Is it because of that stupid comment I made yesterday?” Her eyes were lighter than ever, warmed by the sun peeking through the branches. “Are you seriously still hung up on that?”