Cole and Clementine had been whispering, but they fell silent as Isla entered the dining room.
‘Everything okay in here?’ she asked.
‘Mm-hmm,’ they said in unison, neither meeting her gaze.
When the others emerged, they all shared a tense dinner filled with sidelong glances and self-conscious flirting. Dom opened a bottle of 2004 Margaret River sparkling white, which loosened everyone up a bit. He made Isla’s glass especially full.
She had assumed Clementine was the one he wanted—the only woman in the room he’d never slept with. But was it Isla he was after? Maybe she was the best he’d ever had.
She thanked him, smiling sweetly. If he got her tonight, he would regret it.
By eight-thirty she, Felicity and Clementine were hovering in the hall, dressed only in terrycloth robes. She still couldn’t believe this was really happening. Even as they’d discussed the rules, the whole thing seemed hypothetical. Now the darkness made it feel like a dream she might wake up from at any moment.
Or a nightmare. Too soon to tell.
‘I can’t decide which room to take,’ she whispered.
‘Why not? It’s random.’ Felicity was already twisting a doorhandle.
‘It’s not, though,’ Isla said. ‘The boys won’t be choosing randomly. They’ll think they are, but the laziest one will grab the room closest to the kitchen. The least decisive one will take the upstairs room, because the other two will be taken by the time he’s made up his mind—’
Isla couldn’t see Felicity’s face in the shadows, but she could hear the eye-roll in her voice. ‘Well, there you go. If you don’t want a lazy or indecisive lover, take East Downstairs Bedroom. Done.’
It’s easy for her and Clem, Isla thought. No matter which door they picked, each of them would find themselves in bed with either a handsome man or their own loving spouse—while Isla could end up with her gloomy husband, her treacherous ex … or Cole.
Regardless of what the others were pretending, she was sure she’d know who she was with, whether she wanted to or not.
‘Won’t they be guessing which rooms we will pick?’ she said. ‘So they end up with their … preferred girl?’
She’d made it sound like they were in a brothel. She wondered which room Cole would expect her to choose. Hopefully he didn’t think she was indecisive or lazy.
Clementine touched her elbow. ‘Babe. Are you okay?’
‘Fine, it’s just … do either of you have a preference?’ She wanted someone else to make the decision for her; wanted it not to be her own fault, if this turned ugly.
‘For a room, or for a guy?’ Clementine asked.
‘Either.’
‘No,’ Felicity said.
‘No,’ Clementine repeated, too quickly.
Isla smiled wryly. ‘So do I,’ she said. ‘Shall we toss a coin?’
‘For God’s sake,’ Felicity muttered. She disappeared into one of the bedrooms and closed the door, leaving them to figure it out.
‘I don’t have a coin,’ Clementine said.
She and Isla looked at each other in the gloom.
They’d been friends since kindergarten. In primary school, they spent recesses playing games they’d made up, with rules too convoluted for anyone else to follow. In high school they got the same mobile plan so they could text each other for free, all night. They did one another’s makeup before the school formal. They were maids of honour at each other’s weddings. Isla had never been jealous of anything Clementine owned, because it felt like she owned it, too.
But in that whispered conversation, had Cole and Clementine arranged to pick the same room? Had Clementine decided not to share?
Please, Isla thought. You get him all the time. Let me have him for just one night.
Out loud, she said, ‘Scissors, paper, rock?’