FORTY-EIGHT
The sun was high in the sky when the irritating chime of Gaia's phone forced her out of sleep. She ached more than ever, for needs unfulfilled. If only the dreams had been real.
She crawled out of bed and answered her phone.
"Miss Vasse?" Stewart asked.
Who else would answer her phone? "Yes?"
"Did you get my email?"
Gaia felt a dull sense of déjà vu. "About the layoffs? Yes. I sent you my response."
"No, the one I sent yesterday. About the future plans for Lorikeet Island, and the agreement with Romance Island Resort."
The resort? What? But she'd ripped up the contract. The pieces were still on the floor where she'd left them.
"I'm impressed. This sort of partnership isn't the way Vasse Prospecting has done business in the past, but Morrigan refused to discuss join
