Lisa!”
Zeke rushed up and put his arms around Gina’s retching sister. He tenderly helped her back to her seat and proceeded to mop her up with the roll of paper towels fetched by one of the crew members.
Scott stared down at his ruined shirt and his spattered shoes. “She did this on purpose,” he said, his voice low and furious. He pointed his finger at Gina. “You told her to do this.”
“Me?” Gina sputtered. “You think I can make my sister barf on command?”
Tate had to move away, his shoulders heaving with suppressed laughter.
Sensing the tension, D’John quietly followed, his camera switched to off.
Scott watched them walk away. “You think this is funny too?” he asked Gina. “This was a Purple Label Ralph Lauren. It cost a hundred and eighty-five dollars,” he said, stripping it off and flinging it into a nearby trash barrel. “It was a gift from a very special friend,” he added, with more than a touch of malice.
He looks good shirtless, Gina thought idly. All those hours on the rowing machine, on the elliptical, at the weight bench, and on the beach had paid off. His shoulders rippled with muscles, his golden chest hair glinted against the deep bronze of his skin. He was flat-bellied. He was buff, he was tan. He was soulless.
“Maybe if you play nice, she’ll buy you another one,” Gina offered.
His eyes clouded. “I’m sorry,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “That was way off base. Danitra did give me the shirt, but I swear, it was just that one time, when we were at the Ritz.”
“None of my business,” Gina said lightly, feeling a faint stabbing in the vicinity of her left ventricle.
“I want it to be your business again,” Scott said. “I want you to know I haven’t seen her or talked to her since that night.” His voice faltered. “I…don’t know why I wanted to throw that in your face. I was mad at Lisa. And maybe…” He gazed into the distance, and she saw he was watching Tate, sitting beside Val Foster, deep in conversation. “I was jealous. I saw you this morning, in the diner. With him. You looked pretty friendly. And just now…”
“We were talking,” Gina said coldly. “About dolphins. And then we were talking about the island. He’s been to Eutaw before. I think it gives him an unfair advantage.”
“Shit!” Scott said, suddenly energized. “That sucks. I’d never even heard of the place before.”
The sharp bleat of the air horn sounded, and suddenly the launch bumped hard against the dock.
“Debarkation point, Eutaw Island,” the deckhand called.
“People?” Zeke was standing beside the deckhand now, his laptop and briefcase strapped across his chest, bandolier-style.
“Everybody?” he repeated. “This is Eutaw Island. Before you depart the boat, I’ve got dossiers for everybody.” He reached into the briefcase and pulled out a stack of shiny orange vinyl packets, which he started passing around.
Gina grabbed one of the packets. “Food Fight!” read the label on the packet. “An Adel-Weis Production for The Cooking Channel.”
She opened it up and scanned the first page, but she needn’t have bothered, since Zeke had already started his briefing session.
D’John stood against the boat’s deck rail, panning the camera at the crew, and then focusing on Zeke’s big moment.
“Eutaw Island is the southernmost coastal barrier island in the state of Georgia,” he began. “The name is thought to be derived from a Creek Indian word that, translated loosely, means ‘damned good oysters.’”
That drew a faint round of laughter from the surprised crew. Zeke adjusted his reading glasses on the end of his nose and plowed onward in his lecture.
“Before the Civil War, the entire island was owned by Colonel Bradyn Nathaniel Hooker, a wealthy cotton planter. Colonel Hooker built a plantation home here, called Rebeccaville, named for his only daughter.
“At one time, nearly one hundred slaves lived and worked on Rebeccaville, which produced the highest quality Sea Island cotton on the Georgia coast. The old tabby-shell slave quarters have been preserved and are sometimes rented—”
“Slaves!” D’John lowered the camera. His voice was indignant. “I’m not staying in any damned slave quarters.”
Zeke blanched. “We’ll all be staying in the lodge while on the island.”
“Fine,” D’John said, gathering up his belongings. “As long as we’ve got that settled.” He came and stood beside Gina, listening for more details.
Zeke cleared his throat. “The island and the plantation remain today in the hands of Brady Hooker’s heirs, who operate it as a conference center, wildlife preserve, and corporate retreat.
“The entire building complex was completely restored and modernized by the Hooker family five years ago. At the lodge, you’ll all have access to the living areas, which include a living room and dining room, library, and of course, a screened porch that looks out over the plantation’s grounds, much of which have been allowed to return to their natural, unspoiled state.”
“Does that mean bugs and snakes?” D’John asked. He poked Gina in the ribs. “You know this queen does not mess with bugs and snakes.”
“Where will we be doing the actual cooking for the Food Fight?” Gina asked, hoping to quiet D’John.
Zeke beamed his approval. “I’m glad you asked. We’ve had a crew over here all week, building a state-of-the-art kitchen in the ruins of the mansion’s old ballroom. I haven’t seen it myself yet, but Barry says it’s stunning.”
“A kitchen?” Tate frowned. “We don’t each have our own kitchen? We have to share?”
“Barry feels it’ll make for great television,” Zeke said. “And there will be plenty of room for both of you.”
“I don’t like it,” Scott said, folding his arms across his chest. “Nobody said anything to me about shared facilities.”
Valerie yawned loudly. “Can we just get the hell off this boat? I’ve got to pee. And I’m hungry.”
“And I don’t feel so good,” Lisa said, wobbling as she stood.
“Fine,” Zeke announced, throwing her a sympathetic look. “The golf carts will take you all up to the lodge, and the caretaker will meet you in the lobby and give everybody their keys and room assignments.” He glanced down at his watch. “Our lunch should be ready when we get there, and the dining room will be open until one thirty.”
“Is there a bar?” Val asked pointedly.
“I believe wine and beer will be available after five o’clock,” Zeke said. “After lunch, we’ll have a meeting to go over the rules and procedures for the Food Fight, and we’ll discuss the taping schedule.”
“Let’s go,” Scott told Gina, moving toward the ramp that had been lowered from the ferry to the dock. “I want to start getting the lay of the land as soon as possible. Moody’s already got a head start on us.”
Gina nodded in agreement and looked around for her younger sister. But Lisa was already being helped off the boat by Zeke.