by Ally Decker
He said to Zin, "You're sure Michael Tully is available to meet?"
"I can't believe you wanted to come early," she said.
Zin didn't get it. Everyone was depending on him to make the company profitable, to protect their jobs and enable them to earn enough money to support their families. The pressure was…intense.
RJ gripped the wheel of his Porsche 911 Turbo convertible as he drove slowly along the decently maintained—but still hell on his suspension—dirt road. The car was his main indulgence. He remembered where he came from, and spending indiscriminately didn't appeal to him. But he was CEO of a major car parts company. His image pretty much demanded the fast, crazy expensive car. "I wanted to make sure everything was ready."
"It's supposed to be fun," Zin argued. "We're going to have the camp experience we missed last year. This isn't supposed to be work. It's more like…a reception."
That's where she was wrong.
He turned into the employee parking lot of Camp Firefly Falls and killed the engine. "This isn't just fun. This is business. It's not a fucking wedding."
She got quiet for an awkward moment. Opened her mouth, closed it. "What's got your panties in a twist? All you have to do is show up and be Mr. Bigshot CEO this year."
He sighed.
Wrong. He needed to prove to everyone that he was the right guy for the job. His most recent mistake—dating a woman who'd been hired to conduct corporate espionage—had almost screwed the company. Fortunately, RJ had figured out that Tanya was after company secrets and not his body or fortune.
And yeah, between all the demands on his time, he hadn't gotten laid in a while. But he certainly wasn't going to complain to his sister about his sex life.
"Didn't you have a date last night?" Zin clutched the door handle, pausing before she got out of his low-slung car. "I'd think you'd be a little happier. Unless…"
He couldn't wait to hear what came out of her mouth.
"You struck out?"
"Struck out?" He couldn't keep the outrage from his voice. Of course he hadn't struck out The truth was he turned down plenty of invitations. Including last night's. "That is definitely not my problem."
"Then what is it?"
"I've got no problem with women wanting to sleep with me," he snarled.
"Then, I'd think you'd be a little happier."
"It's why they want to sleep with me."
And yes, dammit, he was whining.
"Well, aren't you grouchy." But she was teasing. He heard the lilt in her voice. "Hey, you know the thing with Tanya wasn't your fault."
RJ banged his head against the headrest. "I never know anymore if a woman is interested in me for me, or because I run a multimillion—"
"Billion—"
"—dollar business." He ignored her correction. "And they think I'm loaded."
"You are loaded."
He shrugged. "Not like Diego."
His cousin Diego had founded Ramos Classic Auto Restoration and built the company into a powerhouse. He had so much money it was unimaginable. But he'd quit the corporate life last year and turned the day-to-day running of the business over to RJ. So now he was the public face of the company, and that had made him a target.
He liked it better when he'd been young and poor and unknown. Sort of.
"You know you can't go back," she said as if she'd heard his unspoken wish.
"I know." And really, he didn't want to. With exception of his current, self-imposed sexual dry spell, he loved his life. But it would be nice not to see dollar signs in the eyes of every woman who was interested in him these days. Or consider if they were somehow using him to gain access to the company.
The last time he'd had sex with a woman who he knew wasn't interested in his bottom line had been last year at camp. Sherry. Sexy, flirty, sleeping-with-her-older-married-boss Sherry had been an afternoon camp fling. A fling he was mostly ashamed of. Even if it had been some of the best sex of his life. He assumed that was because of the element of the forbidden, for both of them.
But still…best sex of his life. Bar none.
"Boo-frickin-hoo. You have gobs of money and women throw themselves at you."
When she put it that way….
"Time to let go of the woe-is-me stuff." Zin dragged him out of the car. "You need to get over yourself. This is supposed to be a retreat. Fun. Relaxing. Getting out of the office and connecting in a more casual atmosphere."
She was right, damn her. Still. He stood after the long drive and breathed in the crisp evening air. "Okay, brat." He mussed her hair.
"Hey! What was that for?"
"Camp. Brings out the kid in everyone."
She clapped her hands. "We're going to have so much fun!"
"That's what you said last year."
"Last year was fun," she said defensively.
Were they remembering the same camp?
"Okay, we had some glitches last year," Zin conceded. "Stupid Jeffrey London and that bicha."
She might have been bitchy, but she'd also been hot as hell and sex personified.
"Thank goodness we won't have to deal with all that drama this year." Zin headed for the main house.
Just thinking about Sherry got his blood pumping. "Drama isn't always bad."
"Depends on who's creating it," Zin said. "On the other hand, Diego got Penny out of the deal."
"She wasn't some sort of camp trophy."
Zin giggled. "If only we could give out that kind of prize."
If only.
#
Who knew that when life imploded, picking up the pieces apparently involved sanitation and clean sheets?
Sherry Washington finished scrubbing the toilet in her last cabin of the day. She dropped the cleaning supplies into the bucket and stood.
After peeling off the giant, totally unsexy rubber gloves, she kneaded her aching lower back with her fists. Being a maid slash camp counselor slash Girl Friday was a lot harder than being a corporate CEO's assistant slash girlfriend. She was older, wiser, and broke…and still, she never wanted to go back to that foolishly naïve and not-overly-concerned-with-morals girl.
Working at Camp Firefly Falls wasn't exactly a glamour job, and yet there was an honesty to the work that appealed to where she was emotionally right now. The current situation had certainly afforded her time to reflect on her life so far.
But let's face it, no one really wanted to be cleaning out someone else's shit.
The truth was, she'd been a damn good assistant. And she'd spent her summer thinking about what she wanted to do next. Who she wanted to be. And what would ultimately satisfy her.
So here she was, getting the camp ready for some corporate retreat. And she couldn't help but be amused by the irony. Her downfall had started last year in this very place.
Her job this week was to clean the cabins and the common areas. Big step down from last year when she'd been a queen bee at the camp. She'd ignored the other workers, thinking she'd pulled one over on all of them.
Of course, they had the last laugh since she was paying off the debt incurred by naively trusting that her boss and lover would take care of her.
Look out for yourself, her mother had always said, because no one else will.
That included dear old mom.
Unfortunately, Sherry hadn't followed her advice.
Sherry shook her head at her old self, put in her headphones, and jacked up the volume on her music app.
She'd best get to it. She hefted the thick sheets and bent over the double bed. This bed wasn't going to make itself.
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