“Itemized lists?” Beau’s face is the picture of horror. “Roman, I’m busy planning events. Making an itemized list of everything I need to make those run smoothly would take up—”
“Yeah, Beau. You’ll have to reduce the time you spend sleeping during the day.”
“Do you know what that does to a man?” he sputters. “Losing sleep is like walking around drunk. Impaired.” He puts an indignant hand to his chest. “Do you want me to get in an accident?”
“Aren’t you already walking around drunk?” Driver takes his feet off the desk and sits up. “If what Huck says is true—”
“Am I being put on trial here?” Beau runs a flustered hand through his hair. “Because if I am, I want legal representation.” A grin breaks through his serious expression, and he struggles to keep it hidden.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re all impossible. And I want plans, Beau. Before you host another event.”
He frowns. “My next event starts tonight at seven. There’s no possible way—”
“Find a way.” I stand up from my seat like I’m at the head of the table in a boardroom. “Driver, I need a plan from you before you head out again.” Driver checks his watch, then opens his mouth. “If that means leaving later, then leave later. Charlie—” Charlie perks up. “We need to have another discussion. Are you free in an hour?” He nods crisply, the satisfaction evident on his face. “And Huck....” His slouch is petulant, and now that I’m looking at him, I don’t remember quite why I wanted him in this meeting in the first place. Mostly, I wanted to feel like I was in control of something, which isn’t easy to admit. “No more stalling on graduation. Finish the senior seminar so we can work out whether you want to be part of this or not.”
“Great.” Huck stands up from his chair and sticks his hand out for me to shake. “Thanks, boss.”
I don’t take him up on the offer. Instead, I wave them all out. “Back to work, everybody.”
As my brothers file out, I catch Driver whispering to Charlie—something to the effect of on the balcony? Some nerve.… Charlie laughs.
I sink back into my chair with a scowl. I don’t feel much better than before the meeting, and it’s all because of Jenny.
Not that she did anything wrong, per se. It was only that once her steak was gone, she stood up like a princess at a public appearance, gathered up her camera, and said that she was sorry, but she just couldn’t stay another moment.
“Jenny,” I hear from the hallway. When I look up, she’s standing right in the center of all my brothers. “What do you think about the luau idea?” Beau has a five-second rebound.
“It was a good one,” she says, then catches sight of me over his shoulder.
She gives me a tentative wave, biting her lip.
She looks regretful.
And just like that, I feel a hell of a lot better.
15
Jenny
I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it.
I tried to be the femme fatale, but when push came to steak, I couldn’t take dinner from Roman and sleep with him in the Emperor Suite. Color me shocked. Leaving abruptly after the dessert course wasn’t the plan when I stepped into the room, but it turns out there’s no manual for what to do after your carefully designed femme fatale act actually works.
Out in the courtyard on my lunch break, I sit in the sun and flip between the apps on my phone, my thumbs unsteady on the screen.
Last night revealed something to me, or maybe it was something I knew all along: I can’t do this with Roman. Not under false pretenses. Heat coils between my legs thinking of how utterly forbidden and hot it is to be wanted so badly by my boss, but my conscience is being a real Jiminy Cricket.
He was willing to cross that line for me. When Connor first offered me the job, I was sure I could do it—I could take that dark, evil part of me and get some mild revenge for all the times Roman failed to look past my frankly weird exterior in high school.
But that’s all bullshit, and I can’t deny the truth any longer.
That’s why it’s time to quit being a double agent. Working at the Bliss Resort is what I’ve wanted to be doing since I quit Global. Not exactly what I wanted. I wanted to make it on my own in New York, but if I can’t be doing that....
I shake that thought right out of my head. This is needless stalling. I know what I need to do, and there’s no way I’m ever going to be able to phrase it in a text message. Before I can lose my nerve, I bring up Connor’s number in my contacts and stab at the button to call him.
It rings once, then twice, and hope flares in my heart….
“Jenny!” His voice echoes jovially over the line, and I scowl down at my feet. The tilework underneath the umbrellaed tables out here is nicely detailed, but even good tile can’t make me thrilled that he answered. I was hoping for a voicemail. “Calling in to report good news? I saw the Bliss Instagram feed, by the way. Excellent work. If you keep this up, we’ll be in a great position to discuss regular contracts.”
Ugh. The last thing I want is to have a regular contract with Connor. “Actually....” I clear my throat and sit up straight. Connor can’t see me, but from my research I know that body language sends as many signals to you as it does to the other party in the conversation. I’d strike a power pose, but there’s a couple making their way through the courtyard and I don’t want to draw their attention. “I’m calling about ending the contract.”
“Really?” I almost believe the disappointment in his tone. “That would be a real shame. I’d be sad to see you go.”
“I just don’t think it’s the right—”
“I’d also be very sad to have to confiscate your signing bonus. I’d be willing to let you keep a week’s worth of payment, since you’ve already done that much of the job, but the other seventy-five percent will have to be returned to Global.”
I have to snap my mouth shut to keep from looking like a gaping fish. “What are you talking about? You can’t take the money back. You already paid me.”
Connor laughs. “Are you pulling my leg?” My soul recoils from the dad-joke vibe of it all. Connor’s younger than I am. It’s gross. “You know perfectly well that under the terms of your contract, you forfeit the bonus and the remainder of payment if you don’t complete the project.”
I grit my teeth. “That’s not—that can’t be right.” I say the words even though, deep down, I know it can be right. Connor would know the contract better than I would, but I can’t admit that to him. I cannot admit that I didn’t read the terms carefully before I signed on the dotted line. There were creatures living in the ceiling of my apartment. All I wanted was to get out of there.
“I can send you a fresh copy of the contract, if you want. What’s the best email address to send it to?” There’s a faint tapping sound on the other end of the line, like Connor’s getting ready to send that fuck-you email right now.
I let out the world’s fakest laugh. “You got me. I just wanted to inject a little humor into your lunch hour. Everything’s going great.”
Connor guffaws, deep and loud. “Glad to hear it, Jenny, because—”
I hang up the phone.
There are three weeks left in the contract. I can survive until then. In the cool air conditioned lobby, I roll my shoulders back and down, trying to exhale the dirty feeling from my lungs. This is only a matter of survival.
That’s what I manage to tell myself right up until I see Roman, leaning against the doorframe to my office, obviously waiting, a glint in his eye. “Did you enjoy your lunch break?”
“As far as lunch breaks go....” I breeze past him into my office. I saw him looking at me when I got in this morning. It only took me twenty minutes to stop blushing. “It could have been worse.” A bird could have shat on me right at the end of my phone conversation, for example.
Roman follows me into the office, and I try to calm the heat low in my belly by going around my desk and sitting down. Out of habit, I pull up the s
ocial media account manager I use, the pictures flickering to life on the screen. Read the room, I think. Read it.…
Maybe he does read the room, but he bulldozes right past my vibe, coming around behind my chair.
Instantly, I want him there. I’m so attuned to him that the heat from his body warms me up, even though we’re not touching. Roman leans over my chair, pointing at the computer screen. “Talk to me about this account.” It’s a cover, and I know it. He just wants to be close to me.
“People can see us,” I say out of the corner of my mouth.
“No one is watching.” His voice is low, his breath is on my ear, and I am melting into my chair. “You practically sprinted out of the suite last night. I hope I didn’t do anything to...offend you.”
I want to lean my neck into his lips just to feel them on my skin, but I don’t. The act of resistance takes up almost every bit of my willpower. I have to engage my core to fight it. At least I’ve done a ton of planks. “I didn’t want to take advantage. I didn’t want to be...shady.”
I still don’t want to be shady. “This is my resort. It’s not shady unless I say it is.”
“That’s not true.” Now his lips do brush the side of my neck, and I wish I had a spare pair of panties in my purse. Why didn’t I plan for this? “There are...moral standards.”
“Go out with me.”
There it is, right in the open. A waterfall of sheer excitement washes down my spine. “Don’t joke.”
“Do I sound like I’m joking to you?” He nips my earlobe. Oh, God, he actually does it.
“No. You don’t. I just don’t quite believe it.” The words come out on a gasp, the opposite of what a cool, sexy, confident woman would do.
Roman’s laugh is a low rumble that lights me on fire. “We can talk about what you believe or don’t believe at dinner.” He pauses. “Though if you don’t want this, you can tell me.”
“I do.” I say it too quickly, and it earns me another laugh. “I—never thought I’d admit it, but I do want....” Another brush of a kiss lands on the pulse in my neck. “I want this. Just not here.”
“Not in your office?”
“Not at your resort.” Is there enough oxygen going to my brain? I’m beginning to doubt it. “It’s too—” Tainted with my own attempts at sabotage. That’s what I should say. I should tell him right now, but when I’m breathing him in like this it’s impossible to think. It’s impossible to gather the courage. I can’t put aside my own desire. “I want to do this right.” It’s not totally accurate, and it’s a bit of a lie, but it’s the best I can do in this moment. “Whatever this is.”
“Jenny.” He says my name so quietly that I almost ask him to speak up. I want everyone to hear the way he says it.
“Yes?” My own voice trembles.
“Are you free on Friday night?”
Exhale. Remember to breathe. Breathe.... “Yes.”
Roman straightens up, and I feel the loss of him as keenly as my excitement. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
16
Roman
By the time Friday night arrives, pure adrenaline has replaced all the blood in my veins. She’s been meticulous about keeping office hours free of flirtation. Well...nearly free. Sometimes she comes into my office with a sway in her hips that’s so inviting I almost order everyone else to take the rest of the day off. That same sway is in attendance as she walks up to my car. The employee bungalows are set back from the road leading into the resort, so I’m treated to almost a minute of the view.
Jenny wears red, and with her dark hair and green eyes, it’s a total power color. Her hair is swept back to the nape of her neck as usual, but as she gets closer to the passenger side, it’s her makeup that catches my eye. I’m not sure what exactly she’s added, but it looks stunning.
I straighten up from where I’ve been leaning against the hood and open the door for her. “Hi,” she says, pausing with her hands on the top of the frame. “It’s nice to see you outside of work.”
Being this close to her without touching her at all is a non-starter, so I indulge the both of us by leaning down to kiss her cheek. We are still on Bliss property, so this is skirting her new set of rules, but so be it.
“You look beautiful. Did you have Melanie stop by?”
Jenny wrinkles her forehead. “Who’s Melanie?”
I laugh, but only because I’ve made an ass of myself. “She’s the makeup artist at Lavish.”
She lets out a sound that verges on a snort, then claps her hand over her mouth. “Wow, Roman. I’m flattered that you think....” A pleasant pink comes to her cheeks. “I didn’t hire a makeup artist, no. I did it myself.”
In the interest of not shoving my foot further into my mouth, I swallow the next question on my mind. “You look—” I already said beautiful. “—stunning. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” Jenny slips into the front seat. I know it’s been a long time since high school, but I never once saw her wearing even a foreshadowing of her outfit and look tonight. Curiosity threatens to run free. I rein it in.
“I thought we’d go to Bellissima,” I tell her as I drive into town. “Is that all right? We can go somewhere else if Italian isn’t your thing.”
“Oh, no,” Jenny says quickly. “I love Italian food.”
It’s only a ten-minute drive from the outskirts of Ruby Bay to the downtown, but Jenny gets quieter with every minute that passes. She’s almost completely silent as we slip into a table for two by one of the front windows, and she only speaks to thank the waitress for the complimentary bread and olive oil and give her drink order—a glass of red wine.
As soon as the waitress steps away from the table, Jenny picks up her menu and becomes deeply interested in what’s on it. It’s one of Ruby Bay’s nicer restaurants, but it’s not the type of place that does creative fusion. Is this her first time here? No, it can’t be. She had to have come here at least once.
I leave my menu on the table. I’ve lived here long enough to know what I want without reading it. “What is it about dates that makes you less invincible?”
She flicks her eyes toward mine, peering at me over the top of the menu. “What makes you think I was invincible in the first place?”
I lean in and lower my voice. “I seem to recall a bold move in a red bikini not too long ago.”
Jenny shakes her head behind the menu. “That was different. That was...refusing to be contained by a dicey first impression in the workplace.”
“I’m the same person as I was in the office earlier. So what’s making you hide behind the menu now?”
She slaps the menu down onto the surface of the table, the sound muffled by the tablecloth. Jenny’s cheeks are nearly as red as her dress. “Having a dream come true can have a certain effect on a person.”
A what come true? I won’t be baited like this, even though I asked her on this date. “You’re doing it again. You’re trying to lure me in with some crazy gesture, some crazy statement, the verbal equivalent of diving into the pool right in front of me—” She’s already shaking her head, more pointedly than before.
“It’s not like that.”
“You just used the phrase dream come true. It doesn’t add up.” It’s risky to reference high school for a million reasons, but it’s now or never. “You hated me in high school.”
Jenny’s mouth drops open. Her face freezes with the shock, and then she tips her head back and laughs. “Are you kidding?” She brings both hands up to cover her mouth for a moment. “You’re kidding, right? I didn’t hate you. I had the world’s worst crush on you.”
I stare at her across the table, while a montage of memories from the year we were in high school together flash through my mind. Did I get it all wrong back then? Or did I not care if I was wrong or not? Granted, I had other things going on, like my impending graduation and other small disasters. “I never knew that. It was hard to tell because you were always glaring at me.”
Jenny covers her
eyes with her hands as if she’s flinching at some buried memory. “First of all, I wasn’t...I wasn’t glaring. God, that’s embarrassing.” She uncovers her eyes, and I’m struck by the depth of the color there. “I was trying to figure out how to get you to notice me. It wasn’t until the end of high school, or maybe the beginning of college, that someone told me that when I’m lost in thought I can look pretty intense.” A shadow passes over her face. “There was only one time that I might have been glaring at you, but that was after you graduated.”
“After I graduated?” This is news to me. “We haven’t seen each other since school.”
“You know....” Jenny sits up straight and brushes her hair back over one ear. “I didn’t think you ever saw me while we were in school.” She presses her lips together and seems to make a decision. When she looks back at me, those green eyes are filled with determination. “I didn’t have the greatest time here, but it was my open house that made me want to leave town forever.”
“What happened?” The air around us seems alive with anticipation. Away from the office, something in Jenny has unlocked. I have the sensation of seeing two versions of her at once, and another falling feeling. It’s something like dread.
She shakes her shoulders, loosening up. “I invited a lot of people.” I know what she’s going to say an instant before she says it. “I invited you. And the rest of your brothers.”
I cast my mind back. I was in college then, and the summers were a blur of parties and random trips back to Ruby Bay.
“I don’t think I went to your open house,” I say carefully.
Jenny nods. “You didn’t. For some reason I thought....” She rolls her eyes. “I thought you might come, and then I could show you how much I’d changed since freshman year. It wasn’t very much, but in my mind, I was a completely different person. When your car pulled up—” It takes a steadying breath before she can continue. “I thought you might come in, but you dropped off your brother. And then I saw that you had Madison Lightman in the car with you.”
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