Paradise Lost (Private 9)

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legs crossed at the knee, showing off their long, lanky perfection. "I needed some time to be alone and decompress," she added, casting the briefest of glances in Upton's direction.

"We're glad you're okay," he said, squeezing my hand under the table.

"I'm so sorry I worried everyone," Poppy said, grinning and not looking the least bit sorry. "I actually got home last night, but I thought it would be more fun if I came here to see all of you in person. Have you eaten? Because I am famished."

"Waiter!" Daniel shouted. He was standing directly behind Poppy's chair, and he turned around to look toward the kitchen. "Can we get a plate of strawberry crepes and an espresso over here?"

"Oh, Daniel, that's so sweet! You remembered my favorite," Poppy said, reaching up to stroke his arm. "Thank you."

Daniel smiled tightly and looked sort of smug. Like remembering the love of his life's preferred breakfast was some sort of accomplishment.

"Anyway, I met the most fabulous group of people at St. Kitts," Poppy gushed, reaching for the juice carafe. "I told them they all had to come over to party with us on New Year's. You guys will love them. ..."

As she prattled on about Jean-Marc from Belgium and Gorina from Portugal and their group of world-traveling friends, I watched her closely. She looked at every single person around the table except for me. Each time her eyes traveled from Upton to Noelle, it was as if there were nothing but air between them. Her story went on and on

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with random details about snorkeling outings and skinny-dipping in some hidden cove, and I started to wonder... .

Was any of it true? Had she just made all of it up with her "wacky" imagination? Had she really been here all along, following me, messing with me, trying to hurt me?

Or were my friends right? Had I simply become way too paranoid for my own good?

"What about the blood?" Sienna asked finally.

Poppy stopped babbling, and everyone shifted uncomfortably. It was kind of a blunt question. Warranted, but blunt.

"What blood?" Poppy asked.

"The blood by your car," Paige clarified in a soothing tone. "That was part of the reason we were so worried."

"Oh right!" Poppy said, blinking. "I didn't think it had bled that much." She lifted her arm to show us a white bandage taped just above her elbow. "I cut myself on a rusty bit of my car," she explained. "The sea air is really no good for those things. But no worries, I got a tetanus shot on St. Kitts and all's well."

Everyone laughed, and Upton put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. I couldn't believe that no one was grilling her or admonishing her for not calling. These people had been worried sick, and now they all seemed not to care that she hadn't bothered to contact them and let them know she was okay.

If I'd done that, Noelle would have bitch-slapped me into oblivion upon my return.

"So! Everyone looking forward to Casino Night?" Poppy asked,

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clasping her hands together. "We're all crashing at the hotel after, right? Like always?"

Paige and Noelle looked at each other as the vibe at the table grew distinctly uncomfortable. Poppy had no clue about the rift in the group. Because, again, she hadn't bothered to check in with anyone for the past few days.

"Sure," Paige said finally. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Yeah," Noelle added. "We're there."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as both Poppy's and my food arrived. It looked like a temporary truce had been called. Poppy really did have some kind of power with these people. Was she powerful enough that they couldn't see her for who she really was? Did she, in fact, have stalker potential?

I so didn't want to find out.

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CHAPTER 34 LET'S GAMBLE