Splash

by Kristen Kelly

  It was all useless, which is why I indulged myself at their expense. I knew, the minute their time ran out, they went back to their cozy little man caves complete with sixty-four inch wide flat panels, state-of-the art surround sound, and built in leather bars so they could watch sporting events while they guzzled down beer and ate every salty snack they could find on the planet.

  One guy I met, had floor to ceiling dispensers filled with a wide-range of exotic nuts, corn chips, and custom-made nacho dip. This was the same guy who weighed three-hundred-and-fifty pounds, but expected to lose it all in the span of thirty days once or twice a year! He had no interest in eating healthy or getting fit after his time was up. He simply wanted to look more attractive so he could get sex. Whenever I saw that guy coming, I knew I would have to bite my tongue. He was also the CEO of the hottest internet gaming company in all of Europe, and a very good client. Men like that didn’t fall out of trees. Not to say he wasn’t one of the smartest business men I’d ever read about, but shallow didn’t even come close to describing the guy. Still, his money was green, just like everyone else’s. Guys like him always thought they could make a new start, simply by booking themselves into the nationally famous Delaney Club. Trouble was they never changed.

  “All right gentlemen,” I said approaching the group, the first thing we’re going to do is learn how to skip rope. As soon as I uttered those words, half the group burst out laughing while the other half mumbled something to the effect of, “I’m outa here. and “what is this, a class for girly girls!”

  “Come on, guys! Are you men or mice?”

  I brightened when I saw one man take it upon himself to reach into the netted bin. Then he passed out all the jump ropes.

  “Thanks mate,” I said, feeling the tension lift a little. “It’s not as hard as you may think and believe me it does burn calories.” I took one of the ropes. After giving a reasonably slow demonstration I said, “Okay. You try.” After about five more minutes, two men, whom I knew for a fact were coerced here by their wives, threw down the ropes and left the room. The same thing happened when we graduated to the elliptical trainers and then the weight room. One by one, these pampered billionaire overweight executives, half of which had never entered a gym in their lives, made one excuse or another to skip the rest of the class. More and more I wondered why I even tried.

  “Titans my ass,” called the one who passed out the ropes. He was shouting after the last guy who was headed toward the exit. Specifically, Dale Carnegie: great, great, grandson of that Carnegie, Iron and steel tycoon. Dale was a rich playboy who made it a habit of embarrassing his family by falling down drunk at every conceivable family or political function. He’d hardly lifted a single weight without moaning and groaning the whole time.

  I fumed. Jesus! Didn’t anyone here want a healthy body? Ironically, I knew they’d be back tomorrow, not because they changed their minds, but because someone in their life required them to give it another try.

  “Well, that’s it,” I said to Jump rope guy. “The mice have jumped the ship. Class is over.” I started putting my weights, towel, and water bottle back inside my duffle bag, utterly deflated.

  “The hell it is,” said Jump rope guy. “I came here for a complete workout and by God I expect to get my money’s worth. Got a problem with that?”

  I took a step back, staring at the guy but not really seeing him. Then I burst out laughing. “Nope,” I said, scratching my head. “No problem at all. Let’s go.”

  “By the way, my name is Jason.” I squinted as he held his hand to me. Before I shook it, I took in the straight patrician nose, the sharp suspicious eyes. “What?” he asked brows furrowed.

  “Do we know each other? From somewhere else I mean.”

  “I don’t think so. We just arrived this morning.”

  I shook my head. If I didn’t know better I’d say he was a female version of the goddess but what were the chances? There were twenty-five-hundred guests here.

  “So what’s next on your grueling workout?” Jason asked.

  “Lap pool. You up for it?”

  Jason frowned. “Not really a water boy, man. That’s the one thing I’d like to skip.”

  My brother hates the water.

  “All right. How about a beer then?”

  His face beamed. “Now, you’re talking.”

  “We’ll just shower up and then meet in the library. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds great.”

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, I found Jason in the Edwardian styled paneled reading room—hands sliding over the floor to ceiling book shelves. He looked up as I approached. “You know my sister would love this room. Absolutely love it.”

  “That so?”

  “Besides the grandeur of this place, she’s a huge reader. I see a lot of history books here. I’m not sure history is her thing. Or maybe it is.” He chuckled. “I really don’t know what the hell she reads but when she isn’t painting, her face is usually in a book.”

  “So she’s a painter.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “But I’ll tell ya…some of her works just grab ya. Know what I mean?”

  “Maybe I’ve seen some of her work. I used to visit some of the galleries with my grandmother.”

  “Nah. No one’s seen them. Every one of them is holed up in my attic.”

  “A bit of a recluse?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Your sister sounds like an interesting woman.”

  “She is…” He hesitated, obviously not sure if he should say more. “Most men don’t get her. Unfortunately for them.”

  “Why is that?”

  He took a deep breath and we both sunk into comfortable wing back chairs facing the only electronic device allowed in the room, a constant stream of the stock market exchanges splashed across several strategically placed computer monitors hung from the ceiling.

  Chin lifted, he stared at the closest monitor, surveying the stock market quotes as they flipped through the screed while talked. So did I.

  “You know that workout was rough. Every muscle in my body is screaming right now.”

  “Too much for you?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Sometimes it’s good to vary the routine. Maybe we should try a game of squash this week.”

  “Sure, but not until I get a complete massage. Loosen up these muscles a bit.”

  “Good idea.” I grinned. He certainly was a good sport.

  “I’m hoping to get back in shape while I’m here. I don’t really get why those guys gave up so easily. I mean, isn’t that why we booked into this place? I mean the real reason.”

  “You’d be surprised.” We gave our orders to the waiter and Jason raised an eyebrow when I ordered a juice combination energy drink, instead of a beer or some other spirit.

  “You don’t drink?”

  “Nope. Then why… never mind, it’s not important.”

  “Tell me about your sister,” I said.

  “What’s to tell? Liz is great.”

  Liz. I knew it!

  “But she has this awful habit of hooking up with the lowest scumbag on the planet and then falling for the asshole.”

  “I take it you don’t approve of her choices.”

  “Now that is an understatement.”

  “But she’s a grown woman right? Maybe the next guy won’t be so bad.”

  “Not on your life because I’m not letting her pick the next one.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Hell no!”

  “Are you saying you’re going to take over the selection for her?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And she’s okay with that?”

  “Well, not at first, she wasn’t, but the last one nearly did her in. It scared the bejesus out of both of us so I kind of convinced her to let me try.”

  I chuckled at the Irish euphemism. “Got some Irish in ya I see. I’m Scottish, myself.”

 
; “Ah,” he said with a knowing smile. “Not a whole lot of difference between us, now is there?”

  “Nope.” When the waiter set my drink of mango, papaya, and organic seaweed smoothie down before me, I sipped it and nodded my approval. Jason scrunched up his brows at us, but then chugged down his beer.

  “So you’re actually going to pick a man for your sister? You have guts, I’ll give you that, but what if…what if she hates him? What if he’s not as nice as you think he is…or she doesn’t take to him like you hoped? Aren’t you worried she would may blame you?”

  Jason stuck out his bottom lip. He seemed to ponder what I said. “I never thought of it like that.”

  He slammed down his beer and the table shook.

  “Fuck, the last thing I want is to give Liz more heartache. How the hell and I gonna make sure that doesn’t happen? If only…If only I had someone on the inside, you know someone who knew everything about the guests. Liz says at least one of them would be suitable and if I can’t find him, she will. I only have two weeks. Two weeks, man.”

  I didn’t respond right away. The last thing I wanted to do was tell Jason I was the owner of the Delaney Club. Or I would be, soon enough. If he knew how much I was worth, he’d tell Elizabeth and even though I felt sparks between us, no lightning, it definitely was a game changer.

  There were two reasons I kept my identity secret. It kept guests from hunting me down for every little thing, and two, it usually meant certain kinds of women didn’t see numbers instead of my dick. There were too many of that kind of woman in the Club these days. I didn’t thing Elizabeth was one of them, but I still didn’t know her that well.

  “So, how do you expect to find this perfect man, anyway?”

  “I have a list.”

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth

  He never asked me out.

  I was still flushed with heat as I walked back to the room. Every nerve ignited. Skin prickling. My mood edgy.

  Why was I so attracted to this guy? And was there something wrong with me that he hadn’t asked for my number? Was he married? Engaged? Leaving on a plane for Afghanistan? All good reasons but I hadn’t asked.

  And he gave me a second book! What kind of man does that? Plus, did I look that boring? Maybe I should have worn a different bathing suit. Took off my hat so he could get a better look. Something. Did I appear so hopeless to the man that he thought I would spend all my time with a nose in a book? Let’s face it, reading was a very loner activity.

  I wasn’t used to being ignored. Not that Damon had ignored me. Not really. He actually seemed pretty sweet, but I guess he found me dull. Unattractive maybe. What little happiness I’d experienced from being noticed by the opposite sex, went right out the window, replaced instead by an overwhelming desire to show Damon Donovan just what he was missing. I’d show him. I was not some little wallflower.

  I threw my bag with the books and my beach towel on a chair and sighed.

  I was used to head turning whenever I walked by so why hadn’t he noticed? Well, he had, but not in the way I thought he should.

  I peered in the mirror, making certain my makeup wasn’t smeared, my push-up bra still in place, and my stomach toned above my black lace panties. Nope, everything was in check. I stuck out my chest, seeing how much cleavage I could pump out. Hmm, that looked good too. Then I checked my stockings front and back. Nope. No runs. Well, maybe Damon was gay. That had to be it. Feeling better with my own diagnosis of why the hottest personal trainer I’d ever laid eyes on. thought I was a boring bookworm, still rankled me though.

  I took one of the books out of the bag. My fingers grazed the hardness of the binding. I smelled it, loving the scent of parchment. I’d always loved books. Almost more than anything. I held it to my bosom, smiling at my reflection.

  Geeze, maybe Damon was right. I really am pathetic! It didn’t bother me though. I knew I was so much more. I just needed the right guy to see that. One day… One day, I thought.

  I opened the book and turned to page one. Again. I’d already read this page a thousand times. It wasn’t the most likely place for disappearances, at least at first glance. I loved that line. Not only its poetry but its meaning.

  And then it hit me. I would disappear. Reinvent myself. No one needed to know about my failed marriage, my track record with men, or even my suicide attempt. I could be whomever I wanted to be. Just wipe that slate clean. In my heart, I’d still be me, but the real book of my life had yet to be written. Jason was the only one that knew who I was, a spoiled little rich girl with a questionable past. A woman with dreams of being an artist, and like everyone else in the world, I wanted to love someone who would love me back.

  I threw the book down on the bed and them opened my suitcase. Rustling through some very slinky loungewear that hugged me in all the right places, I settled on a floor length maroon sun dress that had slits up the sides. The bodice was high but it was completely backless and showed off my slender legs and curvy figure in what could only be described as sinful yet classy. I would wear this dress to the party tonight. I was going to knock Damon on his ever-loving ass if it killed me.

  Music and drinks would be served by the pool followed by a six course dinner, dancing, and a stage show of some sort in the Venetian Ballroom. I usually didn’t go in for those kind of things. I was more of get-my-beauty-sleep kinda girl, but this was just what I needed. I would show Damon that I was definitely more than a silly little bookworm. I could be voluptuous, charming, and sexy as hell.

  I picked up the phone, booked a deep-tissue message, professional makeup artist, and manipedi in the next three and a half hours.

  I took the book with me into the bathroom, and set it on the toilet. I ran a bubble bath in the large claw-foot tub. “Outlander, here I come.”

  ***

  I glanced at the clock on the wall beside the tub. I’d been asleep for nearly thirty minutes. My soak had been amazing, the book absolutely enthralling, and the water wasn’t even cold yet. Shit, there was a heater in the tub! Who knew? I yawned and stretched my arms, wondering how I’d not found this writer before now. I’d absorbed nearly two hundred more pages in just an hour and a half. That wasn’t the only thing I absorbed.

  An open bottle of champagne sat on the ledge. Courtesy of the club. I picked it up and looked inside. Only a smidgen was left and I’d not even used a glass. I almost never drank. Bad things happened when I drank. Was this how I planned to change myself? By getting drunk. Not cool, Liz. Not cool at all. “Shut up,” I said aloud. Okay, was my plan again? Oh yeah. Show Damon Donovan what he passed the hell up! And then come back and go to bed. I was already tired as hell. Drinking champagne could do that to a girl.

  I drank the last few drops of champagne, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around me as I exited the tub. Padding across the carpet in my bare feet, I eyed my dress on a hanger. I threw off the towel and threw on some jeans and a T-shirt. I hiccupped again, giggling for no apparent reason and then locked up the room.

  As I got on the elevator, I got butterflies in my stomach when I thought about seeing Damon again. But why? He was just a hot guy. He probably spent his down time playing video games and having sex with all the guests. Or at least the ones who were more interesting than me. He seemed genuine, but then again, they all seemed genuine. At first.

  Three hours later, and after being perfectly pampered in the salon, which I was excited to find included as many glasses of sauvignon blanc as I dared touch, I was seated on the edge of the bed slipping on my silver strappy heels and feeling like a school girl going to her very first prom. I hoped I didn’t fall off the heels. If I was this nervous with two glasses of wine in me, I was in deep trouble. I thought of Damon. God, he was hot. Sexy and warm with the most incredible earnest smile. A pretty good mask for the playboy I thought he was. I reminded myself again, the promise I’d made my brother. I didn’t think guys like Damon were on his list. Nope tonight was just to show him and the world I was still in the game.
I sighed, disappointed but reminding myself just why I was getting all dolled up tonight. Show them what you’re worth. Make a bang-up entrance and then leave. Yup, that just about summed it up. I could do this.

  Until I couldn’t—because as I walked out onto the natural stone decking around the pool I saw him standing by a fountain.

  Tall and strong as a bronzed Greek statue.

  Dripping of sexuality.

  Wearing a black silk jacket, turquoise patterned tie, and the most incredible grin that showed off his pearly whites as he laughed over something one of the waiters must have said to him.

  My heart literally stopped. I mean…it didn’t, but it felt like it did because I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, and if anyone had asked me my name I would have had to consciously think about my answer.

  I looked around me, wondering if everyone was seeing what I was seeing. They were. Damon had several women oogling him from afar but he looked right past them. I caught him scanning the surroundings before he settled on my brother, Jason and joined him.

  I took a deep breath, and walked toward the two men trying to act like I did this every day and that I wasn’t picturing Damon In-the-body-of-a-God Donovan completely and utterly naked.

  Heat crawled up my neck. As a waitress swept by, I plucked a champagne glass off a tray downing it with one swallow.

  “Oh, there she is now,” said Jason grabbing my arm so I wouldn’t fall. He frowned and then scanned me from head to foot, raised one inquisitive eyebrow, obviously not having seen me dressed so provocatively before. I flashed him a ‘shut-the-fuck-up’ look. He turned to Damon and said, “So this is Liz, my sister. Liz this is Damon. He’s kind of my coach here, but we’ve become pretty good friends.”

  “You didn’t tell me your sister was so gorgeous,” Damon said, pretending we hadn’t met before. As his lips touched my hand, electricity sparked. I felt a flush in my face. I attributed it to the wine.

  Jason’s brows lowered. He swiveled his gaze between me to Damon, suspicious. He cleared his throat. “You have got to check out the library here, Liz. It’s fantastic.”