get her hydrated on something besides more alcohol. The way she looked now, she was a lost cause as far as his other plans went.
“Interesting?” Madison asked, picking up their previous conversation after the server left. “How is this smelly place interesting? Who knows what rating the health department gave it. We’ll have food poisoning, just wait.”
Jonathon hid his amusement behind a cough, while a group of women at a nearby table cast her frowns. Tattooed and rough around the edges, they had a gangbanger look. The last thing he needed was Madison’s loud voice starting a brawl.
“Tell me about your trip to Paris,” he said in distraction.
Her mood lightened considerably as she launched into the story. When their food arrived, she stuck her nose up at it, but Chrissy perked up enough to dive into her portion. She downed half a plate of egg rolls while her sister described all the designer labels the two of them got to wear on the French catwalk.
His cellphone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, noting a text from a former college girlfriend out in Hollywood he’d kept in touch with.
I got the most amazing news! A couple of producers want you in a reality show called Paradise. Got the call a few minutes ago, get in touch.
Before he could digest what he’d read, the worst possible thing happened. “I don’t feel well, Jonny,” Chrissy muttered.
He turned to her just as Madison squeaked out an “Oh no!”
Chrissy vomited her dinner all over the paper tablecloth.
Chapter 2
“A bow drill is my favorite way to start a fire in a survival situation when I don’t have a flint handy.” Phoebe glanced over her students’ faces and smiled, looking for anyone who might be confused, but didn’t want to speak up. She believed understanding her classes was important for anyone who enjoyed the outdoors. If lost, they’d be able to fend for themselves until help arrived. “You can make them with a simple stick, some dry tinder, and a length of sturdy line, leather, sinew, or even your own braided hair.”
The class looked on as she put together her bow drill then kneeled before the flat plane of wood she’d stripped of bark and nestled in dried grasses. She demonstrated the sawing motion needed to get a coal started. Students clustered closer, oohing and ahhing as she worked. Phoebe grinned, happy with their rapt attention and interest, despite the small group. Class size had been shrinking in the passing months. Phoebe worried what another year might bring. Wilderness guiding wasn’t nearly as lucrative as the sudden interest in survival training.
Sweat beaded on her top lip and her arm ached, but soon a tiny waft of smoke drifted up with the friction between the two wood pieces. She lowered herself and blew a soft breath over the coal, breathing life into the fire. Orange flames licked up, devouring the dried grass. Several students clapped as she sat back on her heels and wiped sweat off her forehead.
“It takes practice and muscle, but you’ll get the hang of it,” she said to her class. “Any questions?”
Several hands shot up. In the background, a new woman had joined them. The stranger stood apart from the others, watching closely. Phoebe waved her over, but the woman shook her head, returning her grin. After answering the class’s questions, she dismissed them for an hour long lunch. Afterward she walked over to greet the newcomer.
“Are you here for training?” Phoebe asked.
“Not exactly,” the woman said, flashing a huge smile. “I’m Shawna Jones, and I’d love a few minutes of your time if you have it.”
“Sure.” Phoebe glanced at her watch. “We’ll start class back up at one.”
She guided Shawna to the small cabin on the fifty wooded acres Phoebe owned. The place was Phoebe’s very own heaven on earth. She offered her guest a bottle of water. Shawna took it and gave her a nod of thanks before putting the bottle to her lips. Phoebe smelled a sales pitch