Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Advice. Purrfect Passion. A Purrfect Gnomeful

Chapter 20

“I think we’re on the wrong island, sweetums.”

“Shush, Brutus,” said Harriet.

“No, but I mean it. We’re on the men’s island. We were supposed to be on the women’s island.”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“But it does, sugar plum. The women’s island is where it’s at. That’s where the investigation is taking place.”

“I’m going to be on camera whether they like it or not,” said Harriet, clearly not paying attention to a word her mate had said.

She had that resolute look in her eyes that Brutus knew all too well. It often spelled trouble, and already he was trying to anticipate Harriet’s next move so he could talk her out of it, but this time she was too quick, even for one as closely familiar with her wiles as he was.

Before he could stop her, she was already stalking off in the direction of the plaza.

“Harriet!” he called out, but the music pounding from the speakers was so loud even her fine feline sense of hearing couldn’t have picked up his cry of despair.

He watched helplessly as Harriet joined the lineup of six women and started a series of gyrations that could easily compete with those of the dancing Barbies.

Brutus shook his head in frustration. He knew how keen Harriet was to be part of Passion Island, but this was too much. If she kept this up she’d be booted off the island!

The men seated at the bar were all whooping and hollering, except Chase, who looked a little green around the gills.

It’s one thing to have to watch four would-be strippers, but another to see your future grandmother-in-law strutting her stuff like a seasoned Jezebel, along with her newly-found best friend, a seventy-year-old woman having squeezed her pneumatic frame into a much-too-tight leopard-skin excuse for a garment.

The four other women kept darting curious glances at Scarlett, probably wondering if that’s what they’d look like in another forty or fifty years, but Scarlett didn’t appear bothered. Quite the opposite. While the other women strutted their stuff in situ, she decided to venture out into the world and now approached the candidates, quickly curling herself around a large and portly one, much to the latter’s obvious delight.

Scarlett Canyon might have celebrated her seventh decade on this planet, but with all the work she’d had done she easily looked decades younger. And of course the men had been drinking steadily all evening, and the booze must have affected their eyesight.

Brutus eyed the spectacle of four Barbie wannabes, one Persian cat and one septuagenarian dressed like Estelle Getty with a jaundiced eye.

Things could only get better from this point onward. Couldn’t they?

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chase hissed.

“Oh, come off your high horse, Mr. Cop,” said Gran, waving away his objections. “Now what does a girl have to do to get a drink around here? Preferably one of them umbrella ones.”

They were seated at the bar, the show having ended when one of the producers had pulled the plug on the sound system and ordered the cameras to stop rolling. He’d looked on the verge of having a heart attack and had screamed something that sounded a lot like ‘Get rid of that darn cat!’

“You’re not seriously considering sticking around, are you?” Chase asked, incredulous.

“Of course I’m sticking around! I didn’t come all this way to get kicked off this island so soon.” She tilted her chin. “I have every right to be here, same as you.”

Chase couldn’t believe his ears. “But you’re a cheat!”

Gran had heard through the grapevine that two of the seductresses had had to drop out at the last minute and had sent in her and Scarlett’s applications to be their replacements. Only they hadn’t mentioned their ages, and they’d used pictures from a stock photo website. And since time was of the essence, they’d been quickly sent the go-ahead. Only when they’d suddenly appeared in the lineup had the production team realized that the two ladies they’d figured were part of the kitchen staff were in fact their much-sought-after new replacement seductresses.

“Look, I told that idiot that if he dares kick us off the island I’m going to sue him for ageism. It’s time that senior citizens get their due. It’s not fair that only the young get to have fun. He quickly backed down after that.” She smacked her lips as she bellowed, “Waiter! One of ‘em umbrella drinks for me! Yeah, the fruity ones!”

“You’re going to ruin this whole operation,” Chase said, as he rubbed his face.

“Nothing of the kind. I’m going to save your operation. You didn’t think this through, Chase. You and Odelia infiltrated the show as fake candidates—“

“Not so loud!” Chase hissed.

“But who’s infiltrating the seductresses, huh?” She thumped her chest. “Me!”

“Oh, God…” Chase muttered.

“You didn’t think, sonny boy! Where do you think the danger is coming from? Exactly those wily seductresses. They’re the ones setting up this whole kidnapping scheme. Listen, I’ve got it all figured out. The seductresses seduce the men, right?”

“Mh.”

“And of course they want to keep them once the show is over, cause these are some pretty fine specimens. Not the kind of guys who normally go for the stripper type, right?”

“Are you going somewhere with this?”

“Just listen! So once the show is over, and the cameras are gone, and the free booze, and the sun and the beach and the rest, these men of course land back in reality with a thud. Back to work on Monday. Back to their regular lives, with their regular fiancées.”

“If they’ll still have them,” Chase muttered.

“Of course they will. This is just one long stag party. But these women don’t want it to be over. They want to hook these men once and for all. So how to work it? By getting rid of the competition. They whack the future wives, step into their roles and bingo! A great life awaits. With a pretty boring husband, granted, but that’s why adultery was invented.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.”

“I doubt it.”

“The women are on the other island.”

“So? They don’t get abducted straightaway, do they? These women must have accomplices waiting until the candidates return to the States, and nab them first chance they get. Now where’s that drink? Hey, waiter! I can see what you’re doing, you sneaky little twerp! You’re serving the bimbos first! Wanna get sued for ageism? Cause I’ll do it! Thanks,” she added, and took a satisfied sip from her umbrella drink. “Aaah,” she said, closing her eyes. “Now that hits the spot.”

Chapter 21

That night, a first campfire was being held on both islands. As Kimmy had explained, the campfire was when the candidates were all gathered around a fire and shown footage of what their other halves were up to on the other island. It was usually a moment fraught with a certain measure of dread, as Clint liked to throw in a couple of grenades in the form of infidelities engaged in by the candidates and watch the fallout.

Odelia, as she took a seat, glanced at her fellow candidates. Jackie looked extremely jolly, as her blood was now presumably one hundred percent pure alcohol after having knocked back more G&T’s than probably was good for her. Tina was chewing her bottom lip, looking anxious, and Joanna was yawning, indicating it was way past her bedtime.

After the show had wound down, the six Chippendale wannabes had mingled with the contestants at the bar, and immediately one of them had hit on Odelia. She’d made it clear from the outset that she wasn’t interested, though, earning her a wounded look from the male model. The moment he’d vacated his seat another one had taken his place, and this one hadn’t taken no for an answer, and had spent the rest of the evening trying to break down her defenses, which of course was what he was being paid to do.