For a long time he had sat on the beach next to Eric, the two men deeply engaged in conversation. She didn’t have to ask what the topic of conversation could be. They were probably discussing her again, and the upcoming wedding. For some reason Eric had taken an instant dislike to her, and so had Chloe, and they had done everything to convince Harry to break up with her.

  It was part of the reason she hated to leave him alone with them. But she couldn’t very well become his guardian, now could she? Making sure that Eric and Chloe didn’t pour their vitriol into his ears? If Harry chose to believe his friends and follow their advice and dump her, there wasn’t a lot she could do about that. Instead she had to trust him.

  Still she couldn’t help but keep an eye on him.

  Max and Dooley kept darting curious glances each time she picked up those binoculars, and she didn’t blame them. She probably came across as some kind of madwoman for spying on her fiancé!

  Eric had left for some reason, and had swum back to the boat, but not before kissing Kim, which had shocked Emily a great deal. But what shocked her even more was when Chloe kissed Harry. Her jaw dropped as she watched the dreadful scene. And to make matters worse, instead of swimming back to the boat, Harry swam to shore!

  So was he having an affair with Chloe? Had this been going on for a while? She had no idea, but she intended to find out. And as she placed those binoculars to her eyes once more, she saw that Harry had emerged from the surf, and was wiping the brine from his hair. And who would suddenly walk up to him but Sarah Dawson!

  The plot was thickening—and thickening fast!

  CHAPTER 28

  “Trouble in paradise?” asked Sarah, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “I figured I’d join you,” she explained. “Only your friends seem to have returned to the Audrey.”

  “Yeah, I guess they had enough of the swimming,” said Harry. Frankly he’d also had enough, and the only reason he had returned was that he belatedly realized he had left his phone on the beach.

  “You seem troubled,” said Sarah as she took a seat next to him. “You want to talk about it, Harry?”

  “No, I’m fine,” he said. The last thing he wanted right now was to talk about the jumble of emotions he was experiencing. That kiss from Chloe had come out of the blue. He hadn’t even realized she felt that way about him. He certainly didn’t feel that way about her—or Eric.

  “I think I know how you feel,” said Sarah as she drew a stick figure in the sand with her finger. “When my mother married into the royal family she also had her share of nasty surprises. Her in-laws hated her, and didn’t think she was good enough. Friends of my father turned up their noses at her, and thought she was driving a wedge between them and my father. I can tell you it was really hard. But my mother always said she had no regrets. If anything it made the bond she and my father shared even stronger, since they faced everything together.” She looked up at him. “I think it’s brave of you to stand by your fiancée the way you do. Standing up to your parents and even your friends. I know it means the world to Emily.”

  “Yeah, it hasn’t been easy,” he said. The night was balmy, with not a hint of chilliness in the air. He had wrapped a towel around himself and was feeling a little sandbagged to be honest.

  “You’re handling yourself really well,” said Sarah.

  It was exactly what he needed to hear at that moment. “Thanks,” he said warmly. “I want to be there for Emily. Right now I seem to be the only one who’s in her corner, and it’s important she feels supported.”

  “From someone who saw first-hand some of the things my mother had to endure, I can tell you that your support right now is vital, Harry. I know watching my mother suffer made it hard for me to trust people. Especially a partner, which is why I recently endured a very painful breakup.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Harry earnestly.

  “Yeah, one of the saddest days of my life,” said Sarah.

  For a moment they both reflected on what could have been, and on what was, and they shared a warm smile. A smile that said that here sat two kindred spirits.

  Steven had been checking his emails when a beep told him a message had arrived on his phone. He quickly glimpsed at the device, then did a double take when he saw what it said:

  Matthew Brown is a spy for Car World.

  He took a quick intake of breath as he quickly tapped on the message. But that was all it said. Nothing more. No details. According to his phone it had been sent by an anonymous sender.

  He sat back in his chair, and wondered if it could possibly be true. Matthew? A spy for Car World? It would explain a lot. How those documents had found their way from his safe into Emily’s cabin, for instance. Apart from himself, Matt was the only one who knew the combination. Was it possible he had taken those documents and handed them to Emily? Which would mean that Emily was his accomplice.

  Could both of them be spies for his biggest competitor?

  As he contemplated the consequences he reeled.

  Car World had recently announced a string of technological breakthroughs, a lot of them stuff Steven’s company had been working on for a long time. He had figured it was simply a coincidence. After all, their R&D departments were filled with equally talented people who were all after the same thing: the next holy grail of their industry. The big one that would give them the competitive edge. But if this message was true, Car World’s breakthroughs had more to do with industrial espionage and less with chance.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” asked his wife, who was reading a book.

  “Nothing,” he quickly said. No need to alarm Amanda.

  But as he quickly went over the far-reaching consequences of this revelation in his head, he saw there was only one option available to him at this point. He needed to take decisive action and he needed to do it now—before Car World delivered him the fatal blow!

  “What’s going on, Max?” asked Dooley.

  “I have no idea, Dooley,” I said. And I had to confess I felt a little silly. We were supposed to keep an eye on Emily at all times, and protect her from harm. But she had been glancing through those binoculars for a while now, and uttering a series of extremely worrisome noises that told me not all was well in her world.

  But unfortunately she didn’t give us those same binoculars to look through, and when I had chanced to look out the window myself, I hadn’t seen much of anything out there. My eyesight might be a darn sight better than any human’s, but all I could see was a lot of water, and in the distance a beach that may or may not have held something of interest.

  “I think she’s sick or something,” said Dooley. “She looks pale, Max, and drawn. Maybe we should call for Odelia.”

  “She does look bad,” I agreed. Though it was also true that Emily had this naturally pale complexion, so it was hard to know for sure whether she was sick or maybe this was the way she always looked. We hadn’t known her long enough to decide.

  “She’s been through so much already,” said Dooley. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she fell ill. A person would get sick for less.”

  “Let’s hope Harry gets back soon,” I said. I hadn’t thought it advisable for Emily’s fiancé to go off for this nocturnal swimming expedition at a moment when Emily was under attack from all sides. And the knocks just kept on coming, as far as I could tell.

  And just when we were seriously contemplating to call on Odelia to check up on our charge, the door opened and Harry strode in. He looked refreshed and in excellent spirits. Which couldn’t be said about Emily, who greeted him with a cold, “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Harry’s face crumpled. “What?”

  “I saw you, you know. Kissing Chloe.” She held up the binoculars. “And sitting on the beach with Sarah. You two looked really cozy together. So what was that all about, huh?”

  “Darling, I can explain,” said Harry, and I closed my eyes in horror. Soon he would say, ‘It’s not what it looked like,’ or words to that effect, and then the wedding would be off for sure!

  “I’m listening,” said Emily.

  “It’s not what it looked like,” said Harry.

  Oh, dear…

  Emily bridled. “It looked like you were having a great time kissing Chloe and canoodling with Sarah, that’s what it looked like, Harry.”

  “Chloe kissed me! And it came totally out of the blue.”

  “Yeah, I could see that. But you still seemed to like it, didn’t you?”

  “No! Of course not! I was surprised, that’s all. I didn’t even know she liked me that way. And coming on the heels of Eric’s shock confession, I didn’t immediately respond, that’s true, but—”

  “What shock confession?” said Emily, who had been tapping her toe on the floor impatiently, and looked like a woman who brooked no nonsense.

  Harry sighed and dragged a hand through his wet hair. “Eric told me he’s gay. And that he’s in love with me, if you can believe it.”

  Emily stared at her boyfriend. “Gay? Eric?”

  “That’s right. Eric is gay, or so he told me.”

  “Now that would explain a lot,” she said thoughtfully.

  “But when I told Chloe she didn’t believe me, and then she tried to kiss me.”

  “And succeeded,” said Emily dryly.

  “She took me by surprise!”

  “All right, fine!”

  “Hand me your phone,” he said suddenly.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just give it to me, will you?”

  She handed him her phone with a frown. He tapped on it for a moment, then held it out to her. “Recognize this?”

  She stared at it and shook her head. “I didn’t write that.”

  “Remember how you told me your phone went missing this afternoon? Someone must have taken it and typed these messages to Eric. He showed them to me, and so did Chloe. It’s one big mess, Em.”

  She had taken her phone and was scrolling through the messages. “I’ve never seen these before in my life. I certainly didn’t tell Eric how hot I think he is, and I definitely didn’t invite him to my cabin.”

  “I know. Like I said, someone must have sent those messages from your phone. Probably the same person who sent you that picture your ex-boyfriend took, and put those threatening messages on your bathroom mirror and on your pillow.”

  “God, this just keeps getting worse and worse,” said Emily as she threw down her phone. “So now they’re using Eric and Chloe to split us up.”

  “And they almost succeeded,” said Harry with a wry smile.

  Emily grimaced. “I’m sorry, baby. But when I saw you with Chloe, I just flipped.”

  “Well, I flipped when she suddenly kissed me like that.”

  “There’s something else you need to know. Kim tried to kiss Eric. He didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as she would have liked, cause he immediately broke it off and swam back to the boat.”

  “Kim and Eric? No way.”

  “Looks like Chloe and Eric aren’t the only ones harboring a big secret.”

  “This place is starting to look more and more like a soap opera,” said Harry. “The Bold and the Beautiful, maybe. Or The Young and the Restless.”

  “So who’s the Bold and who’s the Beautiful? Or are you one of the Young and Restless?” Emily teased.

  “My dad is definitely the Bald,” said Harry with a grin. “My mom thinks she’s the Beautiful but she’s not—that’s you.”

  “Oh, is that a fact?” said Emily. “So now I’m suddenly beautiful?”

  “You’ve always been beautiful,” said Harry.

  Moments later some gentle kissing ensued, and that’s when Dooley and I felt it was time to give this young couple some privacy.

  It was definitely great to see Emily smiling again. In spite of everything that was going on, her enemies hadn’t managed to put a dent in her sense of humor, which made Dooley and I share a look of relief.

  CHAPTER 29

  Tex had been trying to find sleep but the sweet release had so far proven elusive. The problem wasn’t the burning sensation he still felt in his arm from that jellyfish sting, or even the fact that the mattress their Airbnb landlord had provided in his wisdom was proving old and decrepit, it was the small army of mosquitoes attacking him from all sides. Once again he swept an enraged arm as one of the annoying creatures tried to use his face as a landing platform, and compelled it to become airborne again.

  But of course they kept on coming. And with no mosquito repellent in the apartment, or mosquito screens in front of the windows, he had no way of stopping the horrid beasts from turning him into a pincushion.

  The light in the room turned on, and Marge sat up. “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking a little bleary-eyed, as he suspected he also looked. “Is it the jellyfish sting? Does it still hurt?”

  “It’s the mosquitoes,” he said plaintively.

  “Mosquitoes? What mosquitoes?”

  “They haven’t tried to bite you?”

  “Haven’t noticed a thing,” said Marge.

  It was typical, of course. For some reason mosquitoes always targeted him, not her. “Go back to sleep,” he said. “I’ll just pull the sheet over my head and put in earplugs.”

  At least he’d brought those, afraid to end up in some party house. It was true that scooters and cars kept driving past their apartment at a regular clip, proving it wasn’t just New York that never sleeps but also the quaint little town of Villeneuve-Loubet, but luckily none of the neighbors had decided to fill the place with thumping music.

  And so he put in a pair of earplugs, pulled the sheet over his head so that only his nose was still visible, and tried to find sleep. The problem was that it was also very hot, even now, in the middle of the night.

  Once again he turned on the light.

  “What now?” said Marge sleepily as she blinked.

  “Can I put on the AC? It’s just that I’m sweating like a pig.”

  “Fine,” said Marge. Then she seemed to have second thoughts. “It’s not good for the cats, though.”

  “The cats?” he said. Who cared about cats when he was boiling and being eaten alive! “It’s good for the cats. They’re probably too hot.”

  “No, didn’t you notice how Harriet was sneezing? I don’t think the AC is doing them a lot of favors.” She was glancing around. “Where are they?”

  “They must have left via the balcony,” said Tex.

  “Oh, dear,” said Marge, bringing a hand to her face. “I hope they don’t get lost.” Then she must have thought of something, for her eyes swung to her left. But when she spotted Grace, happily asleep, she relaxed. “Okay, so maybe turn it on. But not too cold. We don’t know what effect it will have on Grace.”

  “She will love it,” he assured his wife. “Everybody loves the AC.”

  He got out of bed, and picked up the remote from the table. Pressing the button, he sighed with relief when the device made its trademark rattling noise as it turned on and started working its magic. And as he now remembered, mosquitoes don’t like air-conditioning, so with a little bit of luck it would scare them off.

  He closed the balcony door, and then crawled back into bed.

  When Marge and Tex had arrived back from the beach and had opened the balcony door, Harriet and Brutus had taken the opportunity to escape. Having been cooped up in the small space for much longer than they enjoyed, they had decided to skedaddle and see something of the town and its local population.

  “French felines are probably a lot different than American ones,” Harriet had warned her mate. “So better prepare yourself for a big shock, sweetheart.”

  “Cats are cats everywhere,” Brutus had countered. “I mean, how different can they be?”

  They had carefully jumped onto the next balcony before Marge noticed their escape, and then from there to a nearby tree, and down to the ground and away.

  There was an odd scent in the air that Brutus had recognized as a mixture of brine and broiled seafood, the latter presumably produced by the many restaurants in the area that catered to the multitude of tourists having descended on the small resort town.

  And as the two cats followed their noses, they soon arrived at a place called ‘Le Homard Rouge,’ which seemed particularly popular with the local crowd.

  “I wonder…” said Brutus, sharing a look with his partner.

  “Let’s go,” said Harriet, her eyes flickering excitedly.

  And so they quickly found their way around the back of the restaurant, eager to partake in some of that wonderful French cuisine. As luck would have it, a man emerged from the kitchen, dragging behind him a bag filled with all kinds of goodies, and dumped it into a large dumpster.

  “Just like home,” said Harriet with satisfaction.

  They had jumped up onto the dumpster, and were soon enjoying a few nice tidbits of ‘homard,’ which appeared to be the French word for lobster, for the dumpster was filled to capacity with all things lobster.

  “Amazing what people will throw away,” said Brutus between two bites. Marge and Tex had fed them well, but what they had fed them was that same old kibble they got at home. And since they were also due a nice vacation, a change of diet seemed in order.

  Before long they had filled their tummies to capacity, and jumped back down from the dumpster feeling a little heavier but also a lot happier than when they had entered it. And they would have gone on to investigate some more eateries, when suddenly they came upon a small group of cats, who barred the way.

  “What are you two doing here?” asked a large cat with a scar across its nose. He seemed to be the leader of the pack. A real bruiser!

  “Tourists,” said a red cat with a gray stripe. “Figures.”

  “Yeah, there goes the neighborhood,” a third cat sneered.

  “For your information, we’re talent scouts for cat choir,” said Harriet, who had prepared a speech in case of just such a contingency.