“And Pierpont has amazing homemade ice creams in unique flavors.” She half-nodded to the plastic bag. “The marshmallow is amazing. Smooth and toasty, just like a marshmallow.” Her mouth watered just thinking about it.
She took a step into her penthouse, still unsure if she’d be enjoying that ice cream s’more.
Chet looked like he had a dozen questions building up behind his tongue, and he even opened his mouth before shutting it again.
Olympia smiled at him, but she didn’t give him a way out.
“I’m sorry about the tired comment,” he said. “I am old enough to know better, and to know not to ask a woman her age either.” He leaned closer, a devilish glint in those hot chocolate eyes. “But maybe you’ll forgive me twice?”
Olympia couldn’t help the laugh that came out of her mouth. He was so good, and he knew it.
“Come on in,” she said. “But I am tired, and I do have to be at work early tomorrow. You get thirty minutes. These forty-year-old bones need their beauty sleep.” She tossed him a flirtatious look and moved out of the way of the door. It would close by itself, slamming quite hard when it did.
As Olympia walked away, there was no crash. Chet entered her penthouse, gently letting the door close behind him with barely a click.
Olympia found her exhaustion morphing into excitement, and she hoped Chet would give her a tip about improving the inn while they flirted over ice cream and graham crackers.
Chapter Six
Chet watched Olympia sashay into her kitchen, his heart bumping beneath his breastbone while his mind demanded to know what he was doing in this woman’s penthouse. “Your place is a lot like mine,” he said.
“They’re mirrored,” she said. “And I’ve lived here for over a year, so I’ve done some painting, added some less-hotel curtains.” She flipped a switch and more light filled the space. Hotel rooms could be so dark, and he liked how hers brightened with just one touch.
“Yes, I see your bedrooms are to the left. Mine are to the right.”
“I’m not sure why they’re not exactly the same. My great-great-grandfather designed this building. He was one of the first on the island.”
Chet followed her into the kitchen, and the space seemed big enough for the both of them. “Old buildings fascinate me.”
“Do they? Is that why you ran away from the plantation?”
Chet stiffened, almost tossing the bag of groceries he’d seriously stared at for twenty minutes before crossing the hall. “I didn’t run away.”
“Kinda sounded like you did,” she said with a smile. She sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that wasn’t borne from exhaustion or frustration. It even had an edge of happiness in it. “Sometimes I wish I could run away.”
Chet immediately wanted to make that happen for her, but he held his tongue. Olympia still had some ice to shed when it came to him, and he wasn’t sure why she’d given him the cold shoulder in the first place.
And you can’t tell her what hotel you came from, he reminded himself. He’d said a few things at lunch, and they were all true. Maybe they just weren’t the whole truth.
“Do you ever take days off?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “There’s always something to be done here.”
“What about when you get sick?”
“I can text and look through reports with a runny nose.” She gave him a smile. “Besides I take a lot of vitamins and supplements.”
“Oh, so you’re one of those.” He quirked a smile at her, and she shook her head with a giggle.
“Yeah, I’m one of those.” She opened the bag he’d set gently on the counter. “Ready for ice cream?”
“Can I ask you another personal question?” he asked, thinking he probably should let her sugar herself up first.
“Sure,” she said. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer it.”
“Hopefully it’s an easy one.”
She pulled out the marshmallow ice cream and opened a drawer. Everything inside Chet told him to abandon this train of thought. Let it derail. Make up something else right now. Now.
“Do you have a boyfriend, Olympia?”
A great clattering sound filled the kitchen as she flinched, moving a lot of the large utensils in the drawer where she was digging. She froze, only her eyes lifting to look at him. Ah, so it wasn’t an easy question.
“No,” she said, and he believed her.
“Just checking,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t think you did, or you wouldn’t have invited me into your penthouse at ten o’clock at night.” He gave her an easy smile, but she still hadn’t moved.
His heart skipped a beat, then two, making him feel lightheaded and somewhat out of sorts. “My last girlfriend dumped me after two years together.” He hadn’t intended to share this with her right now. “Said she was bored, and I never had enough time for her.” He half-shrugged and reached for the box of graham crackers. “She was right about the time thing.”
She placed an ice cream scoop on the counter, grabbed the hot fudge, and stuck it in the microwave behind her. With her back to him, she said, “My last boyfriend was married, and I didn’t know it.” She faced him, pure challenge in her face. “Are you married, Chet?”
Surprise lifted his eyebrows, and pure compassion moved through him. “No, I’m not married.”
“Great,” she said coolly, turning to get down bowls next. “How long ago did your girlfriend break up with you?”
“Five weeks ago.”
She started laughing, but it wasn’t the high-pitched, girly laughter he wanted to hear. This sound held a measure of disgust he sure didn’t like.
“Oh, I see,” she said. “I’m the rebound.”
“No,” he said quickly.
“Save it, Chet. I’m not looking to date anyone anyway,” she said. “I’d love to pick your brain about the hotel industry, and I love all the flavors of specialty ice cream at the Pier. You come over every night, and we’ll eat and talk.”
Chet didn’t like the sound of that. Sure, he liked ice cream, and he did want to spend more time with this woman. But not all of it should be dedicated to talking.
“Does that sound like an arrangement you can live with?” she asked, and Chet had the distinct feeling she’d had to make “arrangements” in the past. Draw lines she could live with.
“Not really,” he said, opening the ice cream and starting to scoop. “But if that’s what you want, that’s fine.”
She said nothing, and Chet believed she didn’t know what she wanted. He knew he didn’t. He also knew he didn’t want to be alone at night, not on this beautiful island. It was amazing to him how he’d spent all day surrounded by people on the beach, people at the historic house he’d toured, people in the restaurant, the grocery store, up and down Main Street. And the only one he’d really talked to was Olympia.
It was possible to be so lonely, even among a crowd.
“I noticed the inn is a sponsor of the surfing championship,” he said.
“Yes.” She broke her crackers into smaller pieces and sprinkled them over her ice cream before turning to get the hot fudge out of the microwave.
“What are you doing for that?”
“Doing?”
“Yeah, do you have a booth down on the beach? Hand out food to get people into the restaurant? I ate at the bakery this morning, and wow. You could make a killing if you sold those ham and cheese croissants right on the sand.” He watched her for her reaction. “Some of those competitions start really early.”
“I’ll talk to Gwen about it,” she said. “And our bakery manager, Harriett.”
“I’d have apparel outside,” he said. “I saw your gift shop, and you could have visors and hats out easily. Sunscreen. Water and sports drinks. One employee to take care of everything. People forget things when they come to the beach.”
“Then they don’t have to walk back up to the hotel,” she said.
“Or get distracted by the soda shop literally two doors down,�
� he said. “And you should have your beachside service running. Offer, oh, I don’t know, five menu items. Easy things your kitchen staff can make without a trained chef. Pizza and sandwiches. Ice cream sundaes. Hire seasonal people just for the week.”
Olympia scoffed, and Chet looked at her, deciding he had enough hot fudge on his ice cream. “It’s impossible to get workers right now,” she said. “We already bring in dozens of extra people during the summer months.”
Chet nodded, a new idea firing through his mind. He couldn’t believe the traitorous thoughts, but they wouldn’t stop screaming at him. He took a bite of the marshmallow ice cream, the sweetness and toasty-ness she’d spoken of right there in the forefront of the flavors.
“Wow,” he said around a mouthful of cold marshmallow, hot chocolate, and crispy crackers. She grinned at him, those blue-green eyes sparking with laugher.
“Good, right?”
He swallowed, immediately going back for another bite. “It really tastes like marshmallow. Exactly like it.”
She finally produced the giggle he’d been craving. “Let’s go sit down.” She started toward the living room, which did hold better furniture than his. Less hotel-like, as she’d said about the curtains.
“So what did you do today?” she asked him.
“I could work for you,” he said instead. “I can run a pizza down to the beach and back.”
Surprise lit her face, and she took another bite of ice cream without removing her gaze from his. “You want to work this summer? I thought you were on vacation.”
“Well, I am,” he said, not wanting to go into the fact that he’d had three weeks off, and he needed something to keep him busy. Occupy his mind. Get him moving forward again. “But the surfing competition is a week long. I can work for a week. You can see how something like beach-side food service does. See if it’s worth investing in in the future.”
“Hmm,” she said, a calculating glint in her eye now. Chet sure liked seeing that there. It meant she thought about things. Oh, yeah, Olympia Heartwood was smart, and dang if that didn’t strike fear right where his heart beat in his chest.
Because he could flirt with her all he wanted. Show up every night with the specialty ice creams. Work the surfing competition for her. Maybe even kiss her.
And she’d find out who he really was, and who he’d really worked for. She was just that smart.
Maybe just tell her now, he thought, but he didn’t want to leave the inn. And if she knew he’d worked for her biggest competition, she’d throw him right out.
“Something else I thought of.” He momentarily lost his train of thought as Olympia reached up and unloosed her hair from its ponytail. It fell down in a beautiful, blonde cascade that left his mouth dry. He wanted to touch her hair, run his fingers through it while he held her close to him, and kiss her senseless.
“Yeah?” she asked, completely clueless to what she did to him.
“Uh, what about…?”
She licked her spoon, and Chet couldn’t seem to form a sentence.
“You’re acting weird,” she said, leaning toward him. “Must be a really great idea.”
“Popcorn tasting,” he blurted, his face heating rapidly. He ducked his head and focused on his nearly empty bowl of ice cream. “I noticed you have a movie night tomorrow. I didn’t see a mention of any snacks.”
“And popcorn is pretty cheap,” she said.
“Might be worth doing,” he said. “Brings families back to the inn from whatever they’re doing out on the island. Maybe they’ll order more desserts during the movie, or simply get a better feel for the qualities of the inn that will bring them back next summer.”
“Yeah,” Olympia said slowly. “Something to think about.”
Chet had so much to think about, and he needed a space that wasn’t flavored with Olympia’s sunshine and cherry-scented perfume.
“Okay,” he said, standing up. He took her bowl and went into the kitchen with them. After rinsing them out and putting them in the dishwasher, he added, “I better go. I need my beauty sleep too.”
She laughed then, a full laugh with her head tipped back and everything. Chet joined her, because she was infectious in everything she did. She walked him to the door and opened it for him. “Thanks for the ice cream, Chet. I’m glad we did this.”
“Me too.” He looked down at her, knowing it was two steps across the hall. But he didn’t want to take them without the right good-bye. “This wouldn’t be a rebound,” he said.
“You keep telling yourself that.” Olympia patted his chest, smiled, and practically pushed him out of her penthouse.
Chet stood in the hallway and watched the door close between him and Olympia. Somehow, a smile touched his face, and he whispered, “I will, because it’s true.” He took those two steps and locked himself in his mirror-image penthouse, his mind thinking through what else he could “consult” with Olympia about.
He’d definitely need more ice cream and more ideas if he wanted to see her again. And for some reason he didn’t understand and couldn’t fully explain, he did.
Why he did, he wasn’t sure. Carrie had carved out his heart and taken it with her when she’d left Atlanta. So this little crush on Olympia made no sense.
And yet, it existed—and he wanted to cultivate it. Help it grow, see what it could become.
Yes, he’d definitely gone crazy.
Chapter Seven
“Let’s try the cheese,” Olympia said, watching the popcorn kernels burst to life in the industrial cooker she’d managed to rent from the local theater company. The buttery, warm, salty smell of popcorn made her inner child so happy, and she turned to Steven to get his take on the idea.
“Okay,” the man said. “If you want cheesy fingerprints all over everything.”
“It won’t be that bad,” she said.
“You don’t have kids.”
His words stung Olympia way down deep in her stomach, someplace she didn’t even know she had. No, she didn’t have children. No, she wasn’t married. She’d dated a lot before Hunter, but since him…she didn’t trust herself to find the right guy.
Even last night when Chet had said he wasn’t married, Olympia’s first thought was to verify that information. Make sure he was telling the truth.
Steven hadn’t said what he did to be cruel, and he poured the cheese powder into the butter-flavored oil and mixed it well. Then he dumped that all over the popcorn in the machine and started stirring it all together with the scoop. The popcorn turned orange, and Olympia’s mouth watered.
Steven scooped some into a bag and handed it to her.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, taking a few perfectly popped pieces and putting them in her mouth. They were a bit oily, sure, but what popcorn worth its salt wasn’t? “It’s good,” she said, tipping the bag toward him. “Really good.”
He took a handful and ate it, his eyes telling her he agreed before he said it.
“Okay, then,” she said. “You’re on drink and popcorn duty tonight for the movie. It’ll be easy. You’ve got a card-reader and I’ll get Niles to get you a cashbox ready. Five dollars for popcorn and a drink. Easy. Done.”
Steven nodded, looking around at the popcorn supplies Olympia had already purchased that morning. The Wednesday night movie feature had always been a perk for families. It had always been free, but the inn did allow them to bring in outside food during the movie. There were vending machines nearby. It wasn’t like the addition of popcorn would make the event that much better, but it was simply another amenity.
Olympia needed to start thinking like that. Yes, the inn sponsored the surfing championship along their two thousand oceanfront acres. They had been for decades, and that brought people to the inn, filled their restaurants and rooms, got people playing tennis on their courts, and golf on their course. The biking trails didn’t belong to the Heartwoods, but they were located right next door, as were dozens of other amazing restaurants, museums, tours, and outdoor ac
tivities.
Everything a family wanted could be found at The Heartwood Inn. But she’d never thought to add on amenities to the championship. Food, drinks, clothing. The inn had it all right there at her fingertips. Might as well get people buying it in a more convenient way.
If they didn’t want to walk up to the bakery to get breakfast, the inn would bring it to them.
“Okay,” she said, knocking on the table beside the popcorn machine. “Great. I’ll check in with you later.” She needed to get back to her office, where Jacob would be arriving any minute. She normally hated talking to the accountant, but she needed his help to make sure they had enough card readers for expanded food distribution. She needed someone to bounce ideas off of about charging food, popcorn, or hats to a person’s room.
She thought about Chet, wondering what he was doing that afternoon. Maybe he could come to the meeting too. After all, this was his idea, and maybe he’d executed it before. As she walked down the hall, she pulled out her phone and texted him.
Where are you right now? Up for a meeting?
Dolphin tour, he said. Won’t be back for an hour.
Disappointment cut through her, but she simply texted back, No problem. See you later. That was the best part about texting. No emotion.
She thought that would be the end of it, but another message came in from him. You would love this. We should take another tour together.
Olympia paused outside her office, unable to text, walk, and think at the same time. Was he asking her out again?
This wouldn’t be a rebound, he’d said last night.
She’d shot him down pretty definitively, and yet there he was, asking her again. Maybe she wasn’t the rebound.
“And maybe he’s just lonely,” she muttered, pocketing her phone without responding and entering her office to find the stuffy accountant already there.
Two hours later, a knock landed on her office door. “Come,” she said, unsure of who might enter. Very few people knew where her office was located, so she expected to see one of her sisters or a staff member.
Accidental Sweetheart Page 4