‘Fuck,’ I drained the coffee mug in three big gulps. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sarah is going to kill me. We’re supposed to be on the island by twelve.’

‘It’s not Sarah you should worry about.’ He held out his hand for the mug as I started for the door. ‘Juliette’s not your friend, don’t forget that.’

‘Seriously, what is your problem with her?’ I asked, gasping when I saw my hair reflected in the mirror behind me. Why was it bright pink?

This time he didn’t bother to hide his sneer. ‘She’s like every other guest on this yacht, a rich user and a nasty piece of work. I don’t trust her, and neither should you.’

‘No wonder she’s so paranoid,’ I said, sad that she was right about him. ‘She’s not stupid, you know, she knows you don’t like her.’

‘But she likes the yacht that she doesn’t pay for. Although obviously we both know she’s paying for it one way or another, if you get what I mean.’

‘Wow,’ I said, enunciating extremely clearly. ‘That’s really dark and even if that were the case, which I don’t think it is, it would have nothing to do with you.’

‘You’ll learn how these things work when you’ve been here for a while,’ he replied, straightening up until he towered over me. ‘Not that you’ll last. Her assistants never stick it out for more than a few months, and you are not an improvement on any of the others. The last one did pretty well, she was around for a while, but then she was gone, no explanation, just vanished like the rest of them. Juliette is rude, arrogant, and she only cares about herself.’

‘Maybe she just needs someone to give her a break,’ I shot back. Lenny had sparked a fire in my guts that made me want to defend Juliette in a way I would never have thought to defend myself. ‘Maybe she just needs someone to be her friend, to be nice to her, have you considered that?’

He let out one loud bark of a laugh. ‘What are you talking about? Everyone’s nice to her, all the time.’

‘Everyone’s kissing her arse all the time,’ I countered. ‘There’s a difference. She can tell when it’s bullshit.’

‘She hasn’t got a clue what’s going on,’ he said, dismissing my anger in the way that only men do. ‘You don’t know her.’

‘And neither do you,’ I said, turning towards the door and marching out of the kitchen with my fins held high.