by Ellie Hall
“That’s not fair. I don’t need to be initiated. I own the place.” Billie shook her head, feeling slightly childish, but the whole idea was foolish.
What if she waited on someone from out of town, someone who was married, or any number of other dreadful possibilities. She knew what could happen. Betty would just move on to the next eligible customer. If nothing else, Betty was persistent. She supposed her fifty years of marriage to Gus didn’t happen by accident.
“Think of it as a way to demonstrate to your employees that you’re a team player.” Betty shook her hands like she held pom poms.
“I am a team player—I give you days off when you need them,” she started to protest.
“You have to ask the next guy that comes in on a date.” Betty wagged her finger.
“Don’t forget she can’t have waited on him before,” Eisley added.
They knew she hated this. On second thought, maybe not. She was a team player and close to the other women, but she rarely talked about her personal life. She’d once had an employee who dragged all her problems onto the dining room floor and griped day and night. Billie made it clear personal matters stayed at home. Well, at least for her. That was the tone she set for the rest of the workers. Billie was no-nonsense and rarely gave second chances. Thankfully, she didn’t need to very often. Nor did she run into trouble with employees or customers, but she credited that to the fact that she made it clear it wouldn’t be tolerated in her establishment. Although Betty, practically family, was exempt from pretty much all the rules.
Betty gripped Billie’s shoulders and angled her toward the other end of the counter where a man wearing a dark suit had just sat down to peruse the menu. He looked anything but beachy.
“I’ve been coming here since I learned how to say no. No, I’m not going to do it.” Billie dug in her heels.
The man lowered his menu, revealing a handsome face with a summer tan. His hair was trim on the sides and slightly longer on top. It would have the hint of a wave if it were grown out. He removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his button-down shirt, revealing defined forearms. The guy definitely wasn’t a beach bum. He had a professional air, worked out, and took care of himself.
Billie couldn’t stop staring.
“Ooh la la,” Claudia whispered.
Billie snapped out of her trance and glanced back at the others who were practically drooling over him. Even though they were in happy relationships, there was no denying that the guy was beyond good looking. “I can’t,” Billie rasped. Then she cleared her throat and repeated, “I can’t.”
“I’ve seen him before. He’s a bit of flirt.” Claudia winked. “In that strong, silent type of way. The kind that makes you curious and tempted. Not that I am, but you know, it is summer, Billie. Nothing wrong with a little fling.”
“He oozes flirtatiousness,” Eisley chimed in.
“I won’t,” Billie said. “As Claudia said, he’s been in before.”
“But you’ve never waited on him,” Betty said, thrusting Billie toward the end of the counter.
Billie swept the loose pieces of her hair from her face. The knots in her stomach shifted from knots to a rolling sensation like jumping over a wave on a warm summer day—something she hadn’t done or felt in ages.
He glanced up as she approached. His eyes were dark and floated over her, top to bottom, like the Bimini bread wasn’t the only tasty thing at the Coconut Cove Café. The corner of his eyebrow lifted subtly and the edges of his mouth just barely curved toward a smile. It was as Claudia said, he was intriguing.
She looked away, fussing with her notepad. “Hi.” She was so used to greeting customers and asking if she could get them something to drink before placing their order, she hardly had to think about it. But the words that came out of her mouth stopped at hi.
“Hello,” he said in a low rumbly voice that reminded her of moonlit nights.
She stood there dumbly for a moment as though entranced. The sounds in the restaurant, the soundtrack to her life faded, including the actual music playing through the speakers—one of Elvis Presley’s love songs thanks to Betty’s tuning the dial to the oldies station.
The thick stubble covering his strong jaw could easily have become a beard but looked intentional in a stylish and rugged way, drawing Billie’s gaze to his lips. His very full and very perfectly shaped lips.
She swallowed. “Can I take your order? A drink to start?” She was turned inside out. Backward. The words came out wrong.
“I’ll take an iced tea and the lunch special.” The Suit pointed to the board over her shoulder, inadvertently pointing at the women gathered at the other end of the counter, reminding her of what she was supposed to do. What she couldn’t do, despite the whispering of longing tugging on her insides.
She nodded and put the order directly into the kitchen window, shouting, “Order in,” before hustling to get his drink. She felt Betty, Eisley, and Claudia watching her, waiting for her report. She avoided them, keeping busy for the next thirty minutes while the guy at the counter ate his lunch.
Just as Billie was about to tally up the bill, Betty gave her a shrewd, pointed look. It was the kind that would make a lesser woman shrink. “Do it or no more coconut cream key lime pie,” Betty leaned in and whispered.
Billie may have become a lesser woman. She’d do anything to make sure her customers had access to the delicious pie that Betty baked. Moreover, she had yet to refuse a slice herself. Betty kept the recipe a closely guarded secret.
After Billie tallied up The Suit’s bill, on the bottom she scrawled Will you go on a date with me? She tucked it on the counter next to him at the same time as The Suit reached for it. His fingers grazed her skin, sending a shooting thrill up her arm. She refused to allow it to settle in her belly and warm her through so she hurried off to help deliver plates of food.
The lunch rush was in full swing and she couldn’t go back to check on the guy at the end of the counter, but soon she saw The Suit, with all his swagger, waiting at the register to pay.
He passed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change. Oh, and the answer is yes.” He winked at her.
Again, the room went quiet. “The answer is yes.” Yes to her request that they go on a date? The clanking of a piece of silverware on the wood floor drew her out of what was sure to be her second trance of the day. She was tired. She’d hardly slept. Fatigue was getting to her. And stress.
A customer waved at her, needing a new fork.
“I have to go.”
“I know where to find you. I’ll be back.” With that and a cocky smile, The Suit strode out of the restaurant and down the dock.
Betty appeared and gave a low whistle, apparently having witnessed the whole thing. “I sure hope he will.”
Chapter 2
Rhodes
The second Rhodes was on the other side of the restaurant door, he flipped his phone on. It lit up with messages and voicemails. After too many interrupted meals, he’d started turning his phone off while dining. Eating and sleeping were the only times he allowed himself to be unavailable from his demanding job as the head of a real estate investment firm. He’d hoped his father would add and Son to Bishop Enterprises, but when that didn’t happen, Rhodes set out to make a name for himself. If his billions in the bank were any indication, he certainly had.
He was sure that landing the Blue Bay Beach property would be the success that finally convinced his father that he was the real deal. The only problem was, his maternal grandmother had moved to one of the mansions in town. He’d buy her three of them but in a different location. It occurred to Rhodes that his father had tipped him off to the town as a subtle form of revenge against his ex-wife and her family—Rhodes’s mother. But he avoided thinking about that and visiting Memaw.
Being on the water did little to diffuse the midday heat and humidity in the southern Florida town. He made a note to check with the bidding contractors to ensure that they not only planned to insta
ll top of the line cooling units but had backup for the resort. No way would his guests endure the stickiness and humidity when indoors.
The locals didn’t seem to mind it, but when he opened the doors to his new resort, he’d have people coming from all over the world—up north in particular where they wanted to escape the cold, but not suffer in the tropical heat.
As he walked to the car waiting for him at the end of the dock, he took in the vista of the town from the shore. It was scenic, a snapshot in time. There was a definite vintage feel, but everything was well kept. He had yet to speak with too many business owners, but clearly, they took pride in ownership with fresh paint on the wood and stucco buildings, abundant and fragrant flowers, and manicured palms, along with an amusement park quality that gave the town an enchanted feel. In fact, when he’d first scoped out Blue Bay Beach, he was certain it had been designed by Walt Disney himself—a secret little village created by the master of quaint, idyllic, and magical.
But Rhodes’s resorts were even better. That was the Rhodes Bishop way—find something that’s great and make something fantastic. He didn’t settle for outstanding. He created exceptional experiences and was routinely rated the best in the business. That’s why he was a billionaire.
As he got in the car, he turned back to the restaurant at the other end of the dock. It had a certain charm, but the dock needed repair and the thatched roof was well on its way to having to be replaced. He had an eye for details—it was part of his job to notice when things needed updating and sweep in and do the tough work of making way for the new.
He’d have to be sure to get the Bimini bread recipe before leveling the poor little restaurant—and the number of the cute waitress with blond hair, blue eyes, and bronzed skin. He’d be sure she got a job in one of the world-class restaurants at the resort. He might go on a date with her, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to go on a second date just like he didn’t stick around long enough to see the buildings in the towns he invested in demolished. Too bad it would all be but a memory for the history books after the resort was built. Rhodes Bishop didn’t get to where he was by being soft.
The next few days were spent in meetings with the teams of people who would see his vision through. The Sand Dollar Resort would be but another notch in his belt, eventually raking in money as he built his empire.
His father, Martin Bishop, had done similarly in Mexico where he’d find breathtaking tropical properties for cheap and build luxury resorts. Rhodes grew up in his father’s shadow and was making a name for himself after his father had retired. Rhodes stayed closer to home on U.S. soil even though there was less land available in desirable locations. He took it as a challenge to buy out fledgling businesses, old homes, and then bring a resort to life in all its new, shiny, and opulent glory.
The sun was low in the sky as he gazed at the building plans. He was meeting some resistance from several of the contractors because it turned out they had a certain nostalgia attached to Blue Bay Beach, having visited when they were children. That wasn’t a problem. Rhodes had other outfits that would go in there and flatten the place—it just might mean he’d have to spend more money. That wasn’t a problem either.
When the property was completed there would be over two hundred luxury guest suites with all the amenities, a world-class eighteen-hole golf course, a relaxing spa, six swimming pools, hot tubs, numerous restaurants, and more. All nestled on the little slice of paradise that was hardly on the map. Miami wasn’t far so airport access was convenient.
As he surveyed the rolls of plans set out on the conference room table in the mobile office building that he’d brought in as he got started, his phone started to beep. Word had gotten out that he intended to build a resort in place of the town and people weren’t happy.
It didn’t matter because money could buy their happiness if not their silence. The phone continued to alert him that there were incoming messages while he rolled up the plans. After responding to a few of the concerns and quieting others, he turned the light off and locked up for the day. Nothing would keep him from resort number ten, pushing well into the ranking of top billionaires in the country. His father couldn’t deny his success then.
Rhodes walked toward the shore to mentally superimpose the image of the sprawling resort with its hacienda-style architecture and lush landscaping against the backdrop of the town that would soon no longer exist.
The waves at his back crashed to shore and he smiled because nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted. Never had. Never would. He was that kind of guy.
As he strolled to grab dinner at the Coconut Cove Café and see if that cute little waitress was working, he almost stumbled over something in the sand. He bent over to pick up a small stuffed animal rabbit with a pink bow around its neck.
His throat felt scratchy for the briefest of moments. Then with the rabbit in hand, he continued on down the beach.
The dock leading to the restaurant was lit with a string of lights, which was charming, but the sunset behind the building was magnificent. Bold shades of pink and coral lit up the sky as the golden orb seemed to slide into the water.
As he entered, a waitress rushed up to him, grabbed the bunny, and then threw her arms around him. “The Suit saved the day. Thank you, thank you so much.” She clutched the rabbit to her chest. “This is my daughter’s and we thought we’d lost it.” She went on to chirp about how grateful she was, but his eyes landed on the blond waitress who’d cleverly left him a note on the back of his order slip, asking him on a date. It wasn’t the first time a woman had expressed interest. Not at all. But there was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on that made his answer an instant yes. Rhodes was good at saying no, but yes was a rarity.
A sign instructed him to seat himself. First, he strode over to where the cute waitress stood, folded over the counter, writing something down. He leaned over her and inhaled the scent of coconut and vanilla. She smelled like summer. “When are we going on that date?” he asked in a low voice.
Cutey seemed to freeze, mere inches from him, but he could feel her warmth. She slowly stood up and turned around. She was no taller than five feet five inches and he towered over her—usually, the women he dated were wearing heels so they at least came up to his chin. Her blue eyes lifted to meet his. She had a few freckles on her nose and her blond hair was piled on her head like a crown, much like the first time he’d been in there. He wondered what it would look like if she let it down.
He sensed the other waitresses watching him, likely the other female customers too. He usually didn’t pay it any mind, but because of her delayed response, he felt a sinking feeling but quickly dismissed it. Usually, women had no problem telling him yes.
Rhodes was a large man and although he stuck out in a crowd, he made it a point to be comfortable wherever he was. He prided himself on his swagger, ability to take over a room, and for being no-nonsense and quick-witted. However, something about the woman standing there threatened to disarm him. They stood, locked like that a moment longer.
Was it her blue upturned eyes? Her slender figure with curves in the right places? The plump lips that he was waiting to hear speak?
Yes, all of the above.
“Feel free to take a seat,” Cutey said. She gestured to the dining room.
That was not what he was expecting her to say.
“I’ll be right over.” She seemed to unglue herself from the spot and rushed off to the soda machine behind the counter.
He took a table where he could see the last of the sunset—he had to be sure he optimized the placement of the ocean-facing villas to capture the view in all its picture-perfect glory.
Cutey eventually came over. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He smirked. “I thought you were going to sit down with me. Remember the date?”
“That was a dare.” She cast a glare at her coworkers who were huddled together, giggling.
“I see.” Maybe they drew straw
s to see which one of them was the lucky winner. Cleary, she wasn’t pleased about it.
“How about we try again? Would you like to go on a date with me?” Rhodes was the kind of man who never gave up when he set his sights on something—or someone. She was pretty and he may as well have a bit of fun while he was in town.
She shifted from foot to foot then blew a stray hair away from her face as though annoyed. “I would like to bring you a drink and take your order.”
Oh. She was feisty too. He could work with that.
After he placed his order, the other members of the waitstaff delivered his drink and meal. Cutey kept her distance, busy with customers. When he went up to pay the bill, she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe her shift was over. A shrug rippled over his massive shoulders and he took out a twenty and would just leave it with the bill—he routinely tipped double the meal. Then she appeared.
“Hey. Are you sure you’re not interested in swapping numbers? I’ll be in town a while.” His lips quirked.
Cutey bit her lip then shook her head. A woman with white hair appeared and nudged her. She was older—maybe even knew his Memaw. However, if he was reading the situation right, she’d encouraged, if not instigated, the dare.
The cook called, “Betty,” and she dashed to the window to retrieve an order.
Cutey remained standing there. “So, no date. I’ll be back tomorrow to convince you.” Rhodes winked. “In the meantime, maybe you can help me with something else then. I was told to look for Billie Fisher. The owner. Is he available?” he asked.
Cutey stood there. Unmoving. Unblinking. It was a small town, perhaps she wasn’t used to guys showing interest in her. Then again, with her big eyes, beautiful face, and flattering figure, that would be a shock.
“I’ve left several messages to arrange a meeting with him.” Rhodes flashed his phone.