Chapter Fourteen: Wide Awake
The next morning, the harsh chatter of the helicopter rotors seemed to reverberate deep inside Andy's pounding head. Shutting her eyes seemed to help, if only just a tiny bit.
"And there you see the north shore," Madame Mirabeau shouted over the rotor noise, pointing with a short pudgy finger at the lush green coastline. "Ripe for development! Millions to be made! And imagine the glamorous possibilities for your magazine, Miranda!"
"A new Riviera," Miranda mused, her gray eyes fixed on the far horizon. The elegant, silver-haired fashion editor turned to her young companion. "What do you think, Andrea?"
"There are people down there." Andy's queasiness didn't get any better when she opened her eyes and looked down. She was wedged in between Miranda and the pudgy female president of the small Caribbean island nation, and hardly in any danger of falling. But a woozy feeling came over her when she looked down. Shacks and tents sprawled everywhere, with ragged-looking children picking through mounds of refuse.
"Nothing to worry about," Madame Mirabeau cried, in her hearty voice, giving Andy's knee a friendly squeeze. "Those people will soon be relocated to camps in the interior. Come, let's get our young miss back to the hotel for breakfast."
"Breakfast, right!" Andy forced a smile, hoping she didn't look as sick as she felt. Her stomach lurched as the sleek helicopter made a steep turn and headed back to the hotel.
Something was rotten in Santa Dorina.
"I'm not going crazy, am I Miranda? You've noticed it too?" Andy's brown eyes were wide and imploring as she followed Miranda into her luxurious hotel suite after breakfast. "Here at the hotel, everything is perfect. And the tours we go on, they show off the good side of the island. But whenever you look a little bit closer . . ." Andy shrugged, and sat down heavily on the older woman's bed. "It's a different world."
"You've been trying to tell me that since we landed," Miranda said gently, studying her young companion's pale face and drooping shoulders. "You've always had good instincts, Andrea. That's why I brought you along." The older woman poured a tall glass of iced water from the pitcher by the bed.
"What's that for?" Andrea frowned at the light blue pill which Miranda handed her along with the glass of water.
"For your headache – and your hangover. You did overdo things a bit last night, Andrea."
"Yeah, I guess so. Crazy!" Andy thirstily gulped the water, swallowing the pill along with it. She wanted to be at her best to keep up with Miranda. "So what do we do now? Do we call off the feature on how great the island is coming along?"
Miranda shook her head. "What we do now is to investigate further. I've already arranged for a private driver to take me into the interior. His jeep is waiting for me right now. I want to see what the island looks like through my own eyes."
"Miranda, are you sure that's a good idea?" Andy's worried voice sounded fuzzy to her own ears. "We have to be careful . . . dangerous . . . worried about you . . ."
"I'll do the worrying for both of us, Andrea, if you don't mind." With a gentle shove, Miranda pushed her assistant back against the lace-trimmed pillows, then carefully placed the water glass back on the bedside table. "Now while I'm visiting the interior, I want you to stay here and relax. I'll need you wide awake when we fly back to New York. Is that understood, Andrea?"
"Wide awake, got it." Andy was smiling as she fell asleep. She knew now that everything would be okay. Miranda was finally starting to see the things that mattered.