by Shannyn Leah
“Please, tell me how to make this end,” Abby begged.
Izzy threw out the condition. “Be my wingman for the next three weeks.”
Abby’s relieved smile suggested she considered herself getting off easy. “I’ve been your wingman for the last twenty years. Sold.”
“I’m forever scarred by this conversation,” Melissa said.
She was not the only one.
Emma gripped her clutch with deadly force. Maybe dressing up wasn’t a good idea, even if she fit right in with her group. Maybe agreeing to come on board wasn’t a good idea, but it was work related. Work. Yes, she could focus on work...couldn’t she?
“You’re trying to make him envious, aren’t you?” Melissa asked, as they left the cabin, heading for the private elevator.
Thankfully Izzy and Abby walked ahead of them. “Make who envious?” Emma asked, pretending not to know who Melissa was talking about.
Melissa’s shapely, full eyebrows perched. “Oh, you are.”
Emma cringed at the amusement, so rare, in Melissa’s voice. Melissa’s arrogant and snobbish manner took some time getting used to, if she allowed you the privilege of doing so. Depicting pleasantness wasn’t her strong suit, and if you rubbed the wrong way, and that wasn’t hard to do, you were dismissed and forgotten.
Being friends forever, Emma wasn’t easily intimidated by Melissa. However, this topic was off limits today.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma dismissed her, giving more attention to dusting off her clutch, before looking straight ahead.
Emma knew exactly who Melissa was talking about. She could feel Melissa’s hot, dark eyes burning through her, but Emma kept her eyes trained in front of her.
“I knew this trip was going to be interesting,” Melissa said. “I didn’t think you would go all out, and have Izzy turn you into her next fashion experiment.”
Fashion experiment?
“It was brave on your part. Your transformation could have gone one of two ways. She could have turned you into an over-lit Christmas tree or mastered bringing out your inner beauty.”
Emma finally looked at Melissa.
Her opinionated friend puckered her lips, taking her nice sweet time evaluating Emma’s smooth waves down to her black heels. The tightness of Melissa’s lips highlighted her already defined cheek bones. Melissa’s sculpted facial features didn’t need accenting or blush to make them pop, but Melissa didn’t go anywhere without looking prepared to step onto a model runway. Her tall, slim body also matched the qualities of a supermodel, whereas Emma’s build was more muscular from her hours of teaching exercise and dance classes at the resort...when she wasn’t stuck in her office scheduling the resorts weekly calendar of events that is.
When Melissa said nothing, Emma snapped, “And?”
Melissa smiled. “Natural beauty, of course. You do this every time you’re going to be anywhere near Grayson.”
“I do not.”
“Every. Single. Time. I can feel that patronizing, high and almighty side of you coming on right now. Oh, how I’ve missed her. Three weeks of playing with her sounds thrilling. Come, come. Come out and play.”
“You’re starting to sound like Izzy.”
“The question is: why did you accept this invite?” Melissa asked. “Are you looking for a little love triangle?”
Emma rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of the statement. “It’s business.”
“Who says you can’t mix business with pleasure?”
“Everybody.”
Especially Emma’s brother, Marc. After stepping into Robert’s shoes after his death, Marc made no decisions about the business without immaculate research. He was a perfectionist that way. Emma had already had to ensure Marc, after Izzy suggested there was tension between Emma and the Cohens, that there was in fact, none. Izzy wasn’t as mindless as she let on. Her observations were generally got her into trouble, so catching the tension between Emma and Grayson, arched enemy tension, wouldn’t be complicated.
“You should have just slept with him when you had the opportunity...and you’ve had a lot of opportunities,” Melissa said. “Starting with that one night in university...”
“I don’t want to sleep with him. I didn’t want to sleep with him then, and I certainly don’t want to sleep with him now.”
Melissa couldn’t be more wrong. Emma had no interest in being another one of Grayson’s triumphs. Those Cohen men were known for their womanizing ways, and in no way would Emma ever resort to being associated with the group of women who circled around them like hawks on prey. Pathetic women, who felt getting a little affection from a conniving Cohen made them special. Emma was steering as clear away from the Cohen men, as this ship was from hitting an iceberg.
“As long as you don’t bring your feelings into the equation, bearing in mind that it’s only sex, I say go for it. Those Cohen men are delicious...every last one of them.”
“No.”
“Just don’t be head-stupid.”
Head-stupid.
“Love is messy...”
Why was Melissa talking about love?
“...and basically it’s a lie women create with hopes that some other human being on this planet is going to treat her like a queen, pampering her every womanly need and desire, protecting her from all the big bad wolves out there. That dream is as much a fairy tale as the actual big bad wolf...and Izzy being your fairy god mother.” Her repugnant look was amusing. “The poor women who fall into this misrepresentation of love.”
Emma could only take her half seriously. She grinned. “We’re not cynical at all tonight.”
“Realist,” Melissa clarified.
“Real cynical.”
“That’s why I’m here, to make sure you remember boundaries with Grayson.”
They were nearing the elevator where Izzy and Abby waited for them and the last thing Emma needed was Izzy getting wind of what Melissa was insinuating. Sometimes it felt like a juggling act with these ladies.
Emma looped her arm around Melissa’s. “I assure you that I know my boundaries with Grayson. I do not plan on sleeping with him, or even getting remotely close enough to him to talk, let alone fall in love.”
“He will scope you out.”
Emma laughed. “You are as crazy as Izzy.”
“I’ll bet you that within fifteen minutes of arriving tonight, he will have found you, and wandered his way over to talk to you.”
“I accept this bet.” Melissa didn’t know what she was talking about. “And when I win, you’ll tell me what’s going on with you lately and the real reason you’re here.”
Melissa glared at her. “Good thing I’m more observant than you and will win this bet,” Melissa said. “And when I win, you will tell me more about Corbin and his return home.”
Corbin was Emma’s oldest brother. Ever since they found out he was alive, after presuming he’d died in a car crash when he was around sixteen years old, Melissa had grown a rather unexplained interest in him.
Emma held her hand out with confidence. Corbin’s return wasn’t a secret, but she was sure Melissa was referring to why he wasn’t actually dead.
“Deal.”
“It’s sad you actually believe you are going to win,” Melissa said. “You’re so adorable. I can see why Grayson has a soft spot for you.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about what’s bothering you,” Emma said to her.
Melissa wasn’t a talker and Emma didn’t plan on losing. This was a win/win.
Chapter Two
GRAYSON COHEN SPOTTED Emma from across the room, and his blood heated. Heated? From the sight of Emma? This was a new feeling.
Wow, she looked good.
He did a double take just to make sure it was actually her.
It was. Wow.
The red mini dress hugging her every dip and curve was boldly different than the grey hippie-style dress he’d caught a glimpse of her wearing on deck earlier. Her wayward, wild curls were tamed
and pulled to the side, cascading down one shoulder, leaving the other shoulder silky bare.
He’d never seen this sensual side of her before. Hell, he didn’t even know she had a sensual side. Mixing it with her elegance was absolutely breath-taking.
Grayson had been on his way to the bar to order another drink when her smile stopped him dead in his tracks, a smile she would never offer him. Who was he kidding? It was her beauty that stopped him...all right, complete honesty, it was her in that scorching hot outfit.
That was shallow of him, sure. He was known for being shallow, but for as long as he could remember he’d never seen Emma as much more than a pursuit of entertainment. All through school and into their adulthood, it had become their thing: taunt and tease in a platonic, absolutely non-sexual way.
But tonight, she wore sex appeal and she wore it damn well. It was a pleasant distraction from his initial plans of waltzing directly up to her with his witting charm, and stirring the ashes of her blazing tongue. He enjoyed her sharp tongue, and in an entirely different way than the women he normally interacted with.
Emma despised him. That wasn’t anything new, lots of people disliked Grayson. He was too rich, not rich enough, too good-looking, his nose was crooked, too cocky, not cocky enough...they were never satisfied. But no one dared say it to his face, except Emma. She didn’t scandalously spread rumors behind his back like the others. He was fine with the gossip floating around about him, though. It was part of his brand just like his name, wealth and status. People were entitled to their opinion, no matter how far off or how close to home they actually were and Grayson never differentiated the two.
But Emma was different. Emma upheld the same status as him in every aspect: rich, good looking−exceptionally good looking tonight−and with a last name full of expectations. Only, unlike him, she hid in the shadows, away from the center stage, away from the cameras, away from people and she got away with it. Was that a hint of jealousy he felt? That she lived her life without the constant media attention?
Jealousy would be a contradictory feeling for a man who just finished launching his image across the world on the cruise’s advertising campaign.
Watching her tonight, Grayson wondered if he’d misjudged her. Perhaps she hadn’t been hiding from the glare of publicity all those years after all, but rather playing a wickedly clever and evasive game.
Tonight, however, she had no choice but to step into the limelight. With the upcoming article nationalizing the joining of her family’s business with his, Emma and Izzy would be the faces associated with the resort. To his surprise, she was playing the part to perfection...just like a Caliendo.
Grayson had expected her uncle, Carl or mother, Eliza to step up for the article exposure. He’d even considered Marc a wise choice. He was married now and had a daughter, which was good marketing, especially for a family business. Izzy wasn’t exactly an ideal choice, playing off social media circuits her entire life, broadcasting everything she did and everything she shouldn’t. That was the difference between Grayson and Izzy, he didn’t broadcast his life. He might smile for the cameras, but he never initiated them.
But Emma was an interesting choice, a fresh face, for them. Of course, the cruise photos would only be part of the article, and more photos were scheduled for the after party launch on shore where all the Caliendos would be present. Would Emma step back then like she usually did? Or would she show them her hellfire attitude suiting today’s red-hot outfit?
Grayson couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
He shifted, after probably staring at her for a stalkerish amount of time, and finally ordered his drink.
“Thanks,” he said to the cute young bartender, who gave him an appreciative look.
“Anytime,” she drawled, in a seductive whisper.
He sent her a half smile, turning away, and finding himself, once again, uninterested. Since when was he uninterested in the possibility of a fun evening? Since one-night stands became overrated and the red dress was stealing his attention.
Grayson located his dad and Uncle Tom, not shocked to find them mingling in the middle of the crowded area, sharing appreciative whispers, eyes wandering over the guests...mainly the women guests.
Tall and strapping, looking half their age, but in their late sixties, these men were still finding “the catch” fun, while Grayson passed up opportunities by the dozen.
What was wrong with him?
He could use age as an excuse, but Brock and Tom were proof age couldn’t hold you back if you didn’t want it to.
Grayson mentally shook off the thoughts and walked up behind the two men, wrapping an arm around each of them and slapping their shoulders.
“You two are thee dirty old men trying to pick up women way out of their league,” he said.
The two men chuckled with good humor, parting for Grayson to step between them.
“It’s your father,” Tom said. “He’s always been a bad influence. The oldest and wildest one. The instigator.”
Brock roared with laughter. “I can’t deny that. However, I protest the old men comment. Son, I will out-pump, out-lift and out-run you any day, just say the word.” He wasn’t kidding. Brock and Tom were both in tip-top body shape and made for a challenge.
Grayson chuckled. “Old man, you couldn’t keep up if you tried.”
Brock slapped his shoulder. “Son, I let you win. That’s what a father does.”
That’s what a father does. Grayson swallowed the resentment that statement dragged up and maintained his smile. He could go days, weeks, sometimes even months without thinking about one of the hardest times in his life, but then, the tiniest thing, like this casual sentence, set him off and his father’s past betrayal felt fresh.
Push it down.
“Here are my boys.”
Grayson smiled at the voice. The sound was as soft and kind as his mother’s, but his mom, Susan, had died years ago. He thought it might be his Aunt Linda, but considering Linda’s fear of water kept her from ever boarding a cruise in her life, Grayson imagined briefly it was simply the breeze, mimicking his mother’s whisper. But, when all three men turned around, there stood Linda with her charismatic smile.
“Aunt Linda.” Grayson didn’t hide his surprise, pulling her petite body into a long hug. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
Linda wasn’t the spitting image of his mother, quite the opposite actually. Susan’s unfussy, long, wavy hair had been plain, a lot like the informal outfits she’d worn, and her face had always held a fresh pallet of modest makeup, bringing out her genuine smile.
Grayson often wondered, when some needy woman joined them for dinner or an event, what exactly his father had seen in his mother. Grayson had only been twelve when his mother had died and before that night, under the assumption his parents were deeply in love. But his outlook had changed the night she died, opening Grayson’s eyes to the reality of who his father really was and whose genes ran through Grayson’s blood, whose path he’d followed, even against his desire not to.
Detouring down this path, again, Grayson took a long drink to push those thoughts away, focusing on the present and the delight of having his aunt present.
Linda had a head of tight curls that she never styled longer than below her ears, but her large, glitzy barrettes always made a bold statement. Today’s peacock feather creation matched her feather earrings and art glass beaded necklace. As always, she dressed to impress, pulling bold hues of blue and teal’s from her accessories in a chic pant outfit and blazer.
Linda pulled him to her side. “I can only imagine what these men are polluting your head with,” she said. “Bad influences, both of them.” She looked at Tom. “And don’t try to blame Brock. He was happily married, and in love with my sister for over a decade.”
Grayson watched his dad’s smile falter a bit. No one talked about Susan. It had been like that since the day after her funeral. She was as distant a topic as Linda’s presence on a boat.
“W
hich is exactly what we expect for Grayson’s future.” Linda looked up at him. “You can’t spend your entire life going around with woman after woman. You need to find that one special woman and settle down with her.”
Ironic, coming from Linda, a woman who’d never been married, or ever even had a steady man in her life. Yet, she dished out this advice like it was possible for Grayson to find one woman. Grayson had dabbled in the idea of marriage for a second long ago, and wasn’t doing it again. His aunt was fully aware of his standpoint on investing in a relationship.
“As soon as I attend your wedding, I will get right on that,” Grayson said to her.
“Is that a promise?” she asked.
“Why?” Grayson stepped back. “Is there the possibility of a special someone in your life?”
Linda gave him a playful glare, which only made Grayson assume there was someone special in her life.
If there was, it was news to him. Linda was the closest thing he had to a mother since Susan died. He got the caring, drop-in visits at work, the probing phone calls about his life outside of work, and delicious home-cooked meals, often delivered to his condo. Grayson would protect Linda with his life, and that included from any man who tried to win her heart. Grayson had been around too many men who were only interested in one thing. Heck, he was one of them. Any man pursuing her was going to have to go through Grayson first for approval.
“I bet you have yourself a lineup of interested women,” Linda said, avoiding the topic about her.
Grayson would give her until the end of this vacation to reveal the man’s name. After that, once they were back on land, he would hire who he needed to find this man and do background searches. Did he have a record? What was his past relationship status? Was he looking for an easy buck or an easy lay? He wouldn’t say his smart and independent aunt was naive or easy, but men were manipulative and unfortunately sometimes good women fell for bad men.
“If you like bimbos who don’t think for themselves,” Grayson said, taking another sip of his drink.
Linda elbowed him in the stomach, and he groaned, attempting not to spew his mouthful across the floor.