Chapter 5: First Impressions

Blake had heard the car pull up. He dawdled, swiping at imaginary smudges on the passenger door of the de Havilland Beaver that rested at the end of the dock. He had no desire to get caught up in whatever celebrity fanfare accompanied their new guest’s arrival.

The voices faded after everyone went inside and still Blake waited a few minutes longer before making his way back up the dock toward the front of the lodge. He was surprised to see a young woman standing alone in the clearing in the center of the cabins. Her back was to him and he took a moment to watch her.

His first impression was that she was sexy as hell. Her shoulder-length hair was bright red, and expensive-looking sunglasses sat perched on top of her head. She was wearing a white halter blouse with a very short black skirt. Her high-heeled shoes were bright pink suede and they wobbled precariously as she marched around holding her mobile phone in front of her like a divining rod.

When he told her about the lack of signal, she whipped around, giving him a glare that would freeze lava. Fine, lady, have it your way, he thought.

Thankfully, Jackie came out with a smarmy-looking older guy in an expensive Italian suit. Blake busied himself retrieving a mountain of bags from the trunk of the black Lincoln. He noticed that the guest of honor grabbed the suit’s arm and pulled him off to the side for a little chat. He wondered if her tone was any friendlier with him, and he figured that it wasn’t.

He’d just finished loading all the bags into the front of the red aluminum skiff when Pink Shoes came tapping down the dock. His gaze started at the shoes and slid up shapely legs to the tight skirt and curved hips. The deep V in the halter top hinted at stellar tits and her lips were a deep red. She wore too much makeup in his estimation, but there was no denying that Shasta Pyke was hot.

“Are you ready to head over to the island?”

He watched her grip her huge black leather shoulder bag, hiking it higher up on her bare shoulder. “Um, yes, please.”

Blake wasn’t sure, but she seemed embarrassed by her earlier behavior. He offered her his hand and she took it, gingerly stepping into the boat. She sat on the center bench, facing forward, away from him, and clutching her bag like it was a life preserver.

They didn’t speak during the ten-minute ride across the water to the small island in the middle of Lake Miranda. It would have been difficult over the roar of the small outboard motor, even had she been facing him.

Blake expertly angled the small boat to rest beside the tiny dock and killed the motor, tying off his end before jumping out and tying the front end as well. Then he again offered his hand, helping Shasta climb out of the boat and onto the dock.

She stood taking in the view as he unloaded her things. The lodge was visible across the water, seemingly closer than it actually was, judging by the ten-minute ride. If she hadn’t been in such a foul mood, she would have found the place beautiful. The only sound she could hear was the wind in the tops of the countless pine trees covering the island. It would be a short climb up to the crest of the island where a log cabin sat. She could see a stone-surrounded fire pit flanked by a quartet of dark green wooden Adirondack chairs and further away, stretched between two large pines, was a white canvas hammock.

When all her things were on the dock, Blake turned to her. “Let me take you to the cabin. There are a few things I need to show you.”

He took off up the hill and Shasta teetered along behind him, carefully avoiding large rocks that were in the way. “Are you making it?” he called over his shoulder.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry about me,” she muttered.

Blake turned away and grinned to himself. He was waiting for her when she finally made it up the hill. “I hope you brought other shoes.”

Out of breath, Shasta put her hands on her hips and nodded.