One of the men who’s always with Digby, I assume his personal assistant, enters the kitchen and steps beside us, his iPad clutched against his torso. “Sir, the yacht is ready.”
Sir? What a difference between these two teammates. The only time Jack would call Lennox ‘sir’ would be to make a joke.
“Ms. Mitchell,” Digby puts his hand on my shoulder, “have you ever been to Bahrain before?”
“No, first time. It’s beautiful, though.”
“You must see it from the gulf, the city is stunning at night,” Digby gushes and starts reaching into his back pocket. “I have a yacht in the marina here. Would you like to be my guest this evening?”
“Oh, umm, thank you but I have a lot of work left.” I don’t really have anything major planned but something about Digby is beginning to give me the creeps and also, I’m just not interested. If I was interested in someone, and I’m not - it’d be the tall tattooed sometimes-asshole in the dining hall. But that’s neither here nor there.
“Yes well, perhaps afterward?” Digby pulls a card from his Armani wallet and hands it to me.
“Right, thanks,” I say and smile.
Digby and his prim and proper assistant, who looks entirely dead behind the eyes, excuse themselves and I look at the card he’s handed me. It’s glossy black card stock with ‘Digby DuPont’ and an international phone number in elaborate embossed gold writing on the front. I snort at the pretentiousness that oozes off it and make my way back into the dining hall.
Matty and Lennox are still at our table. Matty is turned sideways talking to one of the other Celertias guys and Lennox is scrolling through his phone. I cruise past the buffet table and grab one falafel on a cocktail napkin. Skirting past so Matty doesn’t notice, I slip Lennox the falafel with a wink. My peace offering.
He pops the whole thing into his mouth, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, and smiles at me as he chews. Good to know I can placate him with food, as well as sarcasm, jokes, and inappropriate sexual tension.
I sit back down in front of my open laptop and toss Digby’s silly business card on the table next to me. Lennox swallows and picks it up, “What’s this?”
“Nothing. Ran into your favorite teammate in the kitchen.” I start browsing through my email again.
“Why do you have this?” Lennox is holding the card up and leaning over the table toward me with wide eyes. His jaw is stiff and I can see a vein pulsing in his neck.
“It’s no big deal, he asked me to join him on his yacht tonight. I told him no.”
Lennox launches to his feet and his chair screeches back against the floor. Before I know what’s happening, he’s halfway to the kitchen, cutting through the dining room crowd on a mission.
“What happened?” Matty turns to ask.
“I don’t know. He saw a business card Digby gave me and freaked out.” I reply shaking my head.
“Fuck,” Matty curses and starts toward the kitchen after Lennox.
I snap my laptop closed and grab my backpack, trying to hustle my way through the dining room without causing a scene. This nonsense with Digby is getting tiresome. By all accounts, he seems a little douchey, but harmless enough.
“Where is he?” I hear Lennox roaring as I finally make it to the kitchen.
One of the chefs says Digby’s already gone and points toward the rear exit of the kitchen. Lennox tears out the door with Matty in tow behind and I jog after them trying to keep up. We are not having a public altercation over a freaking business card.
Outside, behind the motorhome, Lennox and Matty are several paces apart looking up and down the road. “He’s gone,” Matty says.
“What the hell are you doing?” I bark.
Lennox stops his hunt and storms to me. He’s absolutely livid and the sight makes me take a step backward. The angry Lennox Gibbes seems to grow in size and anger pulses off him in waves. “What exactly did he say to you?”
“Nothing! Calm down!” I yell back at him.
“If it’s nothing why do you have this?” He waves the business card at me.
“I told you. He asked me on his yacht. I said no. Try to keep up!”
“Don’t fuck with me, Mallory.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that!” I scream back at him and point my finger in his face.