The Siren, KATHERINE JOHN [positive books to read .txt] 📗

“What sign are you?” I ask.

“Aquarius.” She smiles. “What about you?”

“Gemini. With an Aquarius rising,” I embellish.

“Oh, no way! Gemini is one of the signs Aquarians get along with the best.”

“I know! Two of my best friends growing up were Aquarians,” I fib.

We laugh together, and she fishes an amethyst pendant from beneath her sweatshirt. “Amethyst is supposed to be really good for Aquarians.”

“What’s good for Gemini?”

She lights up. “Agate or celestite are great. Tigereye too, for protection.”

“Good to know.” I bend to pet Mary Elizabeth again. “It was super nice to meet you two. Hopefully I can help you with Miss Mary Elizabeth.”

“That would be great. I have your number.”

I gather my things from the park bench as she and the dog scurry up the path toward the park.

At long last, the hunter snares her rabbit.

I can barely contain my joy. The weeks since I learned of her upcoming role opposite Cole have been a travesty of failed casual encounters at the coffee shop she frequents, the yoga class she attends, even the waxing salon she patronizes. Today marked the third time I’ve sat on this bench at this time in this stupid T-shirt I found on eBay. I’d been running out of time. If another week had gone by without success, I’d planned to head down to the islands to try to get a job at the resort where they’re going to be staying while they shoot the movie.

Still, if she doesn’t reach out to me within the week, I’ll have to stage another chance meeting quickly; the clock is ticking. I need to have enough time to ingratiate myself with her and make my services indispensable before she leaves for the Caribbean in seven weeks, and I’m already cutting it close.

Jackson never responded to my email, and with today’s interaction, I’ve burned my ability to get a job at the resort, so this has to work.

But I have faith. My entire life I’ve never had faith in anything, until now.

Taylor

The bloodred blob wobbling westward across my computer screen had only just been named Tropical Storm Celia, but it already looked suspiciously like a hurricane to my anxious eye. “It’s rotating counterclockwise,” I pointed out, struggling to stay calm as Jackson and Price peered over my shoulders.

Price ran a hand through his shock of ginger hair, worried. “It hasn’t got a center yet, so I guess that’s good?”

“Shit. Nothing about this is good.” Jackson squinted at the image and tilted his head. “They keep saying they can’t predict the path, but it’s headed straight for us, don’t you think? It’s so close that even if it turned, we’d still catch the outer bands.”

“I spoke to the resort manager right before you guys got here,” I said. “He told me a voluntary evacuation order has already been issued in Gen Town and the ferry will be running all day tomorrow to get people out. Hurricane prep is under way in Saint Vincent and Saint Ann as well.” I didn’t feel the need to mention that last bit was from Rick, who was adamant I evacuate as soon as possible and had offered his house to any of us who might need shelter, only adding to my growing panic.

Jackson paced to the windows, where he rested his forehead against the glass, staring out at the dark night. “There goes the movie.” He groaned.

Price and I scooted our chairs closer to my glass kitchen table as I opened the information tab beneath the radar animation. “The system is currently moving west-northwest at thirteen miles per hour with sustained winds of up to seventy miles per hour,” I read.

Price rubbed his temples. Even his perpetually calm exterior was showing cracks. “Seventy-four is a cat one hurricane.”

I used the little graph at the bottom of the image to determine the distance. “Looks like it’s about six hundred miles away.”

Price did the math in his head. “So it’ll be here in roughly forty-eight hours, if it maintains that speed.”

Jackson turned from the window, his face tense. “Who knows how strong it’ll be by the time it gets here. We’ve gotta get everyone out.”

“I agree, but the budget to do that is gonna require approval from Cole,” I said. “Did you talk to him yet?”

He sighed. “I tried to have a conversation with him about what he did to Stella last night, but he flat-out denied it. Swore it wasn’t him. Said he’s seen her popping pills constantly and that she probably took extras that interacted with the alcohol.”

The blood rushed in my ears. “He’s lying,” I said, trying to control the rage in my voice.

“I know.” The poor guy looked defeated. “What do you want me to do?”

“What did he say about replacing Madison?” I asked, then cut my eyes to Price. “You know about this?”

Price nodded.

“I filled him in,” Jackson said. “Cole wouldn’t hear of canning Madison. He doesn’t seem to like Felicity for some reason.”

“Probably because she doesn’t want to sleep with him,” I grumbled. “Did you tell him Madison lied about having cancer?”

He shook his head. “I thought we might want to keep that to ourselves, in case we wanted to use it.”

I gave him a sly smile. “Look at you, becoming a shark.”

“When it’s kill or be killed…” He shrugged.

“Okay,” Price stepped in. “We’ll circle back if we still have a movie after this storm hits. For now we have to focus on the task at hand.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Let’s talk to Cole and get him to approve the funds so that we can figure out an evacuation plan. The rest we’ll deal with later.”

I snapped my laptop closed and rose, the edges of the world going black as I stood. I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself, and Price took my elbow. “You okay?”

I nodded, cursing silently. “Stood up too fast. Let’s do this.”

Outside, the storm had cleared, but residual low clouds blocked the stars and the air was cool. I could see the lights