But she would anyway. “Let me just get my bags,” Scarlett said, pushing her hair back from her face. The breeze tickled the gauzy drapes of the porch, now open to the reef. Outside, waves pounded the coral, the gulls crying into the morning. “Again, ma’am, we’re very sorry, but they double-booked your room. And since your reservation came in second, the other guests were given priority.” Of course they were. And of course, she’d packed up her belongings, following the valet as he lugged them across the crushed coral walkway back to the hotel, into the murky dampness of the hallway, up eleven stories to a room that overlooked the salt-sprayed town of Isla Mujeres, with its dirt alleyways and tiny cement homes in faded blue-and-pink paint, cast-iron balconies jutting from wooden windows. From here, she could make out the ferry launch on the other side of town with the two boats docked, ready to transport tourists back to the mainland. If she kept going and hailed a cab, she could probably make the nine o’clock ferry.
What do You think about Undercover Pursuit (2011)?
