The following day was a milder one than the previous ones. There was some cloud cover and it wasn't a day where you felt like you had to be undercover every second, or be scorched. Even so, April applied sunscreen liberally. The sun here was ferocious; it didn't pay to take it for granted.
Breakfast was a buffet of salmon and poached eggs and other assorted goodies. Mario had outdone himself. Everyone had made it out of bed by 10, and was enjoying the less brutal morning sun, and chatting amiably. All the women, by now, had dispensed with anything other than brief swimsuits β Paula was topless, as was Sam and Astrid.
Once breakfast was concluded, Martin Steele got up and said, "Well, folks. I hope you all got some rest last night," there were meaningful looks directed around, and more than one person blushed, "because today is activity day. We are spending some time on the water, doing some para-gliding and water skiing, along with a bit of deep sea fishing. See if we can't bring home some dinner!"
There was a dutiful titter and everyone looked at each other, murmuring.
"Get yourselves together, folks, we leave in twenty minutes."
April just sat back and was glad she wasn't going. She was still tired from the evening's activities, and water skiing was one sport she wasn't fond of. She'd been out when in college in Arizona, to some of the lakes in the area, and every time she'd tried, she'd ended up eating water. It was just something she couldn't do, so she was fine with sitting it out.
As she sat back, eyes closed, she could feel a shadow falling over her, and so she opened her eyes to see Brenda Roaker hovering over her.
"Tara? Is there any chance I might prevail upon you in a professional capacity?"
April always marveled at Brenda's vocal delivery. So clipped and eloquent.
"Of course!"
"Oh, not this second. I'm not going out with everyone. Those kinds of water sports leave me bored rigid."
April couldn't help noticing the qualifying statement Brenda made. What kind of water sports
would
she enjoy?
"Er, twenty minutes then? Give me a chance to finish my coffee?"
"Perfect. I'll meet you on the poop deck. That's what it's called, isn't it?"
April had to smile at that. "I've no idea. I think that with the way most of the men are here, calling it that might be asking for trouble."
Brenda chuckled as she walked away.
April knew about Brenda, of course. She was an online college professor, for one of the more prestigious online universities, if there was such a thing. Her specialty was digital architecture, and her course went from using some of the 3D packages to design buildings, all the way through to building virtual landscapes for movies and video games.
She was considered brilliant in her area, analytical, cold and unapproachable, but had a wicked sense of humor when she wanted to use it. She was also a ruthless self-promoter, doing talks and interviews whenever she could get within twenty feet of a microphone.
Twenty minutes later, April was waiting by the massage bed, watching the two zodiacs zip off into the distance, after having helped load them with paragliding and skiing gear. Martin Steele had winked at her as they left and said, "Relax. Get some rest. Tonight, we PARTEEEE" in that stupid way that Bart Simpson had made famous.
Brenda stepped into view, and April looked her over anew. Long thick chestnut hair, tall β at least five feet ten, elegant limbs, probably 130, maybe 135, C cup boob that only had a hint of beginning to sag. Not bad for fifty-four, she had to admit. She hoped she looked that good at that age.
She was topless β a first for Brenda on this trip, as far as April could remember, and was wearing a sarong. With the light behind it, it was obvious she wasn't wearing any bikini bottoms either.
Brenda smiled at April as she hopped up on the bed and laid down on her stomach.
April asked, "Any particular areas of tension?"
"No, just general all over tension. Got a big deadline coming up and I'm a bit tense about it."
April put on some lotion and started in, starting at the shoulders. Immediately she found muscle knots around the shoulder blades. Almost everyone had them, given the junction of muscles there and what the requirements were, it was inevitable.
Working her way down, April slipped into the conversational queries that so many professions had honed to an art β the art of passing the time while doing something tedious. Cab drivers, barbers / hairdressers β all professions who start a conversation with a question.
"You seem... ill at ease here?"
It was a loaded question. April was looking to see what Brenda would tell her. She already knew a lot from the profiles she'd prepared, and was curious if she'd lie. If she did, she'd know there was something to investigate.
Of all the people β besides that Kevin Smith person, and she'd already decided she was looking into him later β Brenda was the most standoffish and, for want of a better word, visibly not part of what was going on.
Brenda's reply was muffled. "I am?"
"Yes. Everyone else is boozing it up and gettin' jiggy with it. You just sit and watch."
"Well, if there was ever a place to people watch, this is it."
April chuckled. She was quite right.
"You don't seem to have a problem getting'...jiggy with it? Is that the parlance? I saw you sneaking off with Kim and Rashid last night. Good time was it?"
"It had its moments. They definitely have a 'thing'."
"Do they, now?"
April began to realize this was derailing. She was answering the questions, not asking them.
"Oh yes. So is John enjoying all this?"