Before I could question him any further, people began piling into the tent, mostly women, most glaring at me. I couldn’t tell if they were upset he hadn’t picked them or upset that he was the host. It was more attention than I wanted, and when the local news reporter stepped inside waving a microphone and shoving a camera in our faces, I felt my flight response kick in and barged through the ocean of people, stomping out of the tent. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I knew I needed to get out of there. Back to Dolly’s, I guessed, would be a good place to run. Back to my friends. Another shot of tequila sounded nice, especially now that my previous buzz had been stripped away by all of the hoopla.
Chapter Seven
“Run that by me again,” Jose said. “River Caliban picked you?”
“He did but it doesn’t matter. I’d rather spend a night in jail than with him.”
“Spend the night in jail and risk your grandmother finding out?” Dee raised an eyebrow.
“Why would she find out?” Martín set down his beer and looked at her.
“Anyone who goes to jail gets published on the front page of the paper,” she said. “It’s the ultimate no-no. The last thing anyone wants is for their parents or grandparents to see the paper and have their last names tarnished like that.”
“Especially if you’re Pan Island royalty and your last name is Guzman,” Jose added.
“My last name was tarnished the day I published the picture of Caliban Manor.” I glanced away from my friends just as the front door of the bar opened and River Caliban stepped inside.
A jolt zapped through me the instant our eyes met. I’d heard about the electric pull between two people. I’d imagined it happening to me every time I read one of my grandmother’s historical romance novels. I never in my wildest dreams thought it was real, but most of all I hated that it was River Caliban, of all people, who made me feel it. My entire life I’d been warned against them, and here I was, feeling things. Wela did always say the Devil was a charmer and if that was the case, this one had him one-upped for sure. He walked over to our table and stood beside me as if he belonged there. I swallowed, looking at Dee, across from me. Her eyes looked as wide as they’d ever been. So, did Jose’s. Martín looked absolutely stunned as well, but it was he who broke the ice and extended his hand to River with the clearing of his throat.
“Martín Echevarria.” He shook his hand. “I was invited to your party tomorrow night and I’m not sure how involved you were with the invitations, but I figure I should thank you anyway.”
“You’re welcome.” River’s mouth turned up. “So, I expect you’ll be there with your plus one? Barbara, was it?”
“Not Barbara.” Martín chuckled. “It’s a long story. I will take Denise Grillon with me.” He put an arm around Dee.
“Good. That’s nice. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Denise.” River shook her hand, then turned to Jose. “You as well.”
“Jose.” Jose cleared his throat. “Jose Beauchamp.”
“Jose Beauchamp.” River gave a nod. “Will you also be in attendance?”
“The invitation must have missed my house.” Jose laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine skipping it.”
“Nonsense.” River frowned, then glanced over his shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw a small group of people gathered at the table beside us. Two women and one man. All dressed in black. “Miss Fabiola. Please take note of the name Jose Beauchamp. He will be in attendance tomorrow evening as well.”
“Sure thing.” Miss Fabiola, a pretty Black woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, said with a nod and a stiff smile. She only shot me a quick glance before turning back to her group of people. It felt like a warning.
“Now, onto other matters at hand.” River brought a hand up and used his pointer to caress over my shoulder.
“I didn’t give you permission to touch me.” I shivered and pulled away, shooting a glare at him.
River’s eyes darkened. There was no distinction between his iris and his pupil. His gaze was so intense, so alluring, that I found that I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to.
“Why did you choose Penny?” Jose asked after a moment.
“Why not?” River kept his attention on me.
“How do you even know who I am?” I asked.
“Doesn’t everyone on this island know who you are? The rebellious Penelope Guzman, who took a picture of her enemies’ house and made millions from it.” River’s tone was light, but his expression was far from it.
“Is that why you chose me? Because you want to take revenge on the person who capitalized off your family name?” I raised an eyebrow as I reached for my Lemon Drop. “I should tell you that I didn’t make millions.”