Read Online Dudes Down Under by Suzannah Burke - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Suzannah Burke
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Tristan. “Whoa, there, hot-stuff. Take it easy. Izzy handled that like a trouper. You’ll only make the ex worse if you rip her apart in front of everyone. Leave it alone, Tris. Trust me, Kylie will play even dirtier if she’s humiliated. Besides, she actually made Izzy come outta this lookin’ real good.”
Tristan ran his hands through his thick blond hair. He was clearly not impressed but he saw the sense in what Lana had said. He gave that bone-melting smile, and relaxed.
Lana looked around, hoping to see Karen. She caught sight of her hurrying back in the direction of the bungalows.
Vanessa Dayton poured herself a large glass of chilled Moët and sat in the shade of a cabana.
Lucy wanted to get up and hug Lana Peters. She reminded herself to say a private thank you later.
The remaining contests were hugely enjoyed. The guests wandered back to their bungalows to shower and change, with Didi’s reminder of a very casual dance to be held after a large Aussie style Bar-B-Q.
Cyril was a little confused. These humans are strange. I’ve never seen Lucy take her clothes off in public. I wouldn’t be seen running around without my t-shirt. Izzy Jones looked ... um … interesting. I wonder what those things are for. Maybe they’re just decoration ... unless they are a weapon. Nyah, they looked too squishy to be a defense. Oh boy, I hope she does it again at the dance.
Chapter 8
“ Will you stop complainin’? It's a bloody dance, mate. You gotta look good. Now, hold still. There, that’s better, Cyril. Go and have a look at yourself in the mirror, mate. The tux t-shirt looks bloody smart."
Whatever you say, Skeet. I won’t get to dance with those beautiful women anyways. It’s soooo unfair. I didn’t ask to be born a bloody crocodile. Hmmm, hey Skeet, this looks pretty damn spiffy, mate. Sexy, hey?
“ Good. Ya smilin’. Told ya that ya looked good. I dunno what the hell I’m gonna wear. Whadya reckon, Cyril? Gimme one grunt for the new pants and the white shirt and two grunts for the tight jeans and muscle shirt. Well, c’mon, whadya think?"
Must we do this every damned time? Very well, I’ll do the grunt thing. It’s terribly undignified, you know.
"Don’t be bloody difficult. That was three grunts.”
Oh, clever you. Of course it was three grunts, you moron. I want you to wear the new pants with the muscle shirt. Do I have to do everything around here? You are such a clod when it comes to dress sense. I’ll have to show you. Here …
“ Now what are ya doin'? Oh, I get it. All right, put it down, I getcha. So … new pants and, what, the muscle shirt?"
Yes, dumbo. I’ll never teach you good taste. Why do I even bother?
“ Thanks for the input, mate.”
Whatever.
“ We better get crackin’, mate. It’s time.”
No shit, Sherlock. I must find out what that means. I like the sound of this Sherlock person, whoever he is. These Yanks have some strange sayings.
* * *
“ Ginny, honey, can I ask you something?”
“ Yes, yes you can. Anything, Miss Peters.”
“ Well first up, girlfriend, you gotta call me Lana, okay? Don’t you dare faint! It’s just my name, sweetie.”
“ Lana - got it. Lana. Ask away.”
“ Who owns this place, Ginny? Any ideas? Is it a corporation or a multi-national conglomerate?”
“ You know something, I don’t have a clue. We’ve been tryin’ to find out ourselves since day one.”
“ Does anybody know? I mean, who pays you for instance?”
“ Lucy must know. She runs this place. But we always get paid right on time into our bank accounts. If we want cash, we use the cash-teller facility on the mainland. We don’t have to buy anything here, it’s all provided."
“ That’s one mighty generous boss.”
“ It’s part of the reason we all love workin’ here. The pay and the conditions more than make up for living away from the mainland.”
“ So, all the staff live here on the island?”
“ Yes, we all
Tristan ran his hands through his thick blond hair. He was clearly not impressed but he saw the sense in what Lana had said. He gave that bone-melting smile, and relaxed.
Lana looked around, hoping to see Karen. She caught sight of her hurrying back in the direction of the bungalows.
Vanessa Dayton poured herself a large glass of chilled Moët and sat in the shade of a cabana.
Lucy wanted to get up and hug Lana Peters. She reminded herself to say a private thank you later.
The remaining contests were hugely enjoyed. The guests wandered back to their bungalows to shower and change, with Didi’s reminder of a very casual dance to be held after a large Aussie style Bar-B-Q.
Cyril was a little confused. These humans are strange. I’ve never seen Lucy take her clothes off in public. I wouldn’t be seen running around without my t-shirt. Izzy Jones looked ... um … interesting. I wonder what those things are for. Maybe they’re just decoration ... unless they are a weapon. Nyah, they looked too squishy to be a defense. Oh boy, I hope she does it again at the dance.
Chapter 8
“ Will you stop complainin’? It's a bloody dance, mate. You gotta look good. Now, hold still. There, that’s better, Cyril. Go and have a look at yourself in the mirror, mate. The tux t-shirt looks bloody smart."
Whatever you say, Skeet. I won’t get to dance with those beautiful women anyways. It’s soooo unfair. I didn’t ask to be born a bloody crocodile. Hmmm, hey Skeet, this looks pretty damn spiffy, mate. Sexy, hey?
“ Good. Ya smilin’. Told ya that ya looked good. I dunno what the hell I’m gonna wear. Whadya reckon, Cyril? Gimme one grunt for the new pants and the white shirt and two grunts for the tight jeans and muscle shirt. Well, c’mon, whadya think?"
Must we do this every damned time? Very well, I’ll do the grunt thing. It’s terribly undignified, you know.
"Don’t be bloody difficult. That was three grunts.”
Oh, clever you. Of course it was three grunts, you moron. I want you to wear the new pants with the muscle shirt. Do I have to do everything around here? You are such a clod when it comes to dress sense. I’ll have to show you. Here …
“ Now what are ya doin'? Oh, I get it. All right, put it down, I getcha. So … new pants and, what, the muscle shirt?"
Yes, dumbo. I’ll never teach you good taste. Why do I even bother?
“ Thanks for the input, mate.”
Whatever.
“ We better get crackin’, mate. It’s time.”
No shit, Sherlock. I must find out what that means. I like the sound of this Sherlock person, whoever he is. These Yanks have some strange sayings.
* * *
“ Ginny, honey, can I ask you something?”
“ Yes, yes you can. Anything, Miss Peters.”
“ Well first up, girlfriend, you gotta call me Lana, okay? Don’t you dare faint! It’s just my name, sweetie.”
“ Lana - got it. Lana. Ask away.”
“ Who owns this place, Ginny? Any ideas? Is it a corporation or a multi-national conglomerate?”
“ You know something, I don’t have a clue. We’ve been tryin’ to find out ourselves since day one.”
“ Does anybody know? I mean, who pays you for instance?”
“ Lucy must know. She runs this place. But we always get paid right on time into our bank accounts. If we want cash, we use the cash-teller facility on the mainland. We don’t have to buy anything here, it’s all provided."
“ That’s one mighty generous boss.”
“ It’s part of the reason we all love workin’ here. The pay and the conditions more than make up for living away from the mainland.”
“ So, all the staff live here on the island?”
“ Yes, we all
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