To be fair, Paul threw the first punch. Blaine had made sure Paul wouldn’t do that again, although if he had known someone had their camera filming them, he might have acted differently.
Blaine flexed his hand. His knuckles still hurt from punching the lazy prick in the face. It had been worth it to wipe that defensive pout off his face, even though he probably should have taken the high road and shrugged it off.
Paul had been in the wrong so many other ways. He should have run more tests. He should have documented the errors. He should have kept his hands to himself. Just because Paul was the Miller in the Stephens-Miller Corporation, that didn’t give him the right to solve their differences playground style.
Mitchell had been caught in the middle. Paul was his best friend and Blaine was his brother. They had built their company together ever since they graduated from college. Mitchell was also the boss and had reprimanded both of them.
Although sending Blaine to a new age wellness center might seem like a reward, it was in fact a brilliant revenge, even if it was on a private beach in Maui in the middle of December.
I’m going to give it to you straight, his brother Mitchell had said. You’re a frickin’ time bomb. You need to go far, far away until you get your head on straight.
I’m fine, Blaine had said.
You’re an important part of this launch, but your job is done.
Obviously not, Blaine had replied, gesturing to Paul who glared at him from across the room. It wasn’t as if he was going continue to fight with him, but Paul acted like it, giving him a wide berth.
You need to take a step back—a few steps back and let us do our jobs.
I can help, he had said.
You’re making it worse, Mitchell said, not pulling any punches. You haven’t slept. I don’t even think you’ve been home in the past two weeks.
That was the problem of starting a business with family, they brought up personal stuff. Where he slept and when had nothing to do with the problems the new car was having. This launch is very important.
I’m not disputing that. I don’t want it at the cost of your life or sanity.
That’s a little dramatic, Mitch.
Is it?
Blaine hadn’t had a cute comeback for that. The heart-attack scare had been hard on their family. Their parents were very upset. Blaine had collapsed in front of them. He couldn’t remember feeling so much pain. It had all been in his chest and Blaine had a hard time breathing.
It turned out to be nothing, Blaine said, feeling the need to defend the momentary weakness. His body had betrayed him, and Blaine wasn’t sure how to stop it from happening it again.
It turned out to be stress related, his brother pointed out. Look, I’m not pulling you off the project.
I’d like to see you try, Blaine had said, standing up so fast his chair had toppled over. Paul had jumped back like a scared cat.
Are you going to hit me too? A muscle worked in Mitchell’s jaw.
He hadn’t brawled with his brother since they were kids, but Blaine had been tempted.
Mom, Dad and I have booked you on an all-expense-paid trip to Maui as a Christmas present. Two weeks of sun, sand and relaxation. Mitchell had handed him the brochure to Maui. You go there. Be a good boy, and then come back here refreshed for a nice family Christmas and then you’ll be back on track.
I’m on track now, Blaine had complained.
Our parents are very worried about you. Stop being such a selfish ass and accept this gift, that I would take from you in a heartbeat.
You can have it, he said.
Sure. Rub it in. Spend two weeks eating like an adult and working on your health. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for your dear old mother. She hasn’t stopped crying about how it would kill her to bury her youngest son.
Now that’s hitting below the belt, Blaine had protested. I admit I overreacted and maybe I haven’t been as diligent about sleep and eating, but I need to be here.
It’s two weeks, not two years.
Blaine had argued up until the day of departure, but it got him nowhere. His family guilted him into getting into the limo and being driven to the airport. He took vicious pleasure that as soon as he was in the air, it had started to snow heavily. Serves them right.
On the plane ride, Blaine slept the full ten hours to Maui. It was the longest he had slept in...years. He even dozed in the car from the Maui airport to the resort, waking up when the driver opened the trunk to get his bags. Blaine felt worse after all that sleep, but he was starving. The first thing he’d do once he got settled was call for delivery.
“I got this,” Blaine said, peeling off a hundred-dollar bill for the driver. He wasn’t even sure what was in the two big wheeled bags. Mitchell had someone pack for him, not giving him an inch of leeway to wiggle out of this trip. He had said the concierge will get him anything that they missed. How about a cell phone that worked? Blaine scowled at his phone. No internet connection available. He knew he was on an island in the middle of the Pacific, but he had seen signs of civilization. They passed a Walmart just after leaving the airport.
Grumbling, Blaine picked up a bag in each hand and carried them up the stairs until he got on flat ground and then he rolled them into the lobby. Not that he needed one, but he didn’t see any porters who would normally be all over him for a chance to carry his bags for a tip. The lobby was open-air and he wondered what happened when it rained. He didn’t see any computers or electronics. Just benches and clusters of vibrantly colored flowers everywhere. Squinting around, he looked to where he could check in. A security guard approached him.
“Aloha.”
“A-aloha,” Blaine responded, wondering if he was going to get another lei put around his neck. They did that at the airport, and he had waited until he was in the car before taking the flowers off his neck because he didn’t want to offend anyone.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yeah, I’m checking in.”
“Name?”
“Blaine Stephens.”
The guard checked his iPad and scrolled. “Penthouse suite. Follow me, sir.”
Blaine rolled the luggage to a cluster of elevators, wondering if the iPad was magically connected to the internet.
The security guard slid a key card and a set of elevator doors opened. When it opened, the guard waved him in. “Your concierge is waiting in your suite to get you acquainted with the wellness center.”
“Great,” Blaine said.
The doors closed and the elevator shot up fast and efficiently. He stared at his reflection in the polished chrome doors. Man, he looked like he’d been rode hard and put away wet. He rubbed his hand over the stubble of his chin. Maybe a few days in the sun wouldn’t hurt. With a mellow bing, the elevator doors opened up into a luxurious suite. Standing in the hallway was a gorgeous brunette. Now that’s what he called service. He only wished he didn’t look like such a bum.
She had long black hair that was tied back in a braid. Gray-blue eyes smiled at him, and she extended her hand.
“I’m Selena Thompson. I’ll be your personal chef for these two weeks.” The chef’s jacket hugged her curves and he knew that he would eat anything she gave him as long as he could watch her move around the kitchen.
“Blaine Stephens.” He shook her hand, admiring her firm grip. Letting go before it was obvious that he liked holding her hand, Blaine became aware of a tantalizing aroma. His stomach growled in protest that it wasn’t indulging in whatever that was. “Is that lasagna?” Blaine asked with an appreciative sniff.
“Hot out of the oven. Why don’t you drop your luggage off in the bedroom and come and sit at the table?” She pointed up. “Top of the stairs. Do you need a hand with your bags?”
“No, I got this.” He gave her a grin and hoisted the bags up. It didn’t matter how heavy they
were, he didn’t want her to think he was a wimp. He jogged up the stairs and made it through the bedroom door before staggering under their weight.
Shit, he was winded. Blaine rubbed the center of his chest and made a face.
He took a few minutes to freshen up. While he didn’t break out his electric razor, he finger combed his hair and straightened out his clothes. When he came out, he was disappointed that she had set out only one plate. After sitting down, he placed the cloth napkin on his lap.
“Would you like to join me?” he asked.
“I’ll sit with you for a bit, but I’m not allowed to eat with the guests.”
“Sounds like a silly rule.” Blaine was too hungry not to dig in.
“Can I get you some wine? I’ve got a nice spicy red that will complement that dish.”
He nodded, trying not to drool cheese out of his mouth. Selena went into the kitchen and he heard the pop of a cork and the long glug of wine being poured. Was she pouring him the whole bottle? This place rocked! He was going to make it a habit of punching Paul out, if the punishment was being sent here.
Selena came back with a decanter and two glasses. “The wine has to breathe for a few minutes to fully enjoy it.” She poured sparkling water into one of the glasses from a bottle that was lodged in an iced bucket on the table.
Sitting down across from him, she pulled out a journal. “Would you like another piece of lasagna before we begin the orientation?”
He looked down and realized he had gobbled it down. “I should give it a minute. That was the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted.”
“It was vegetarian. That sausage was actually tofu.”
Blaine stared at her in confusion. “Wow, I never would have known.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was supposed to, but...” She smiled shyly. “I was distracted.”
He was distracted too, by the laugh lines around her eyes and her plump, kissable lips. “Are you my concierge too?”
“Actually, that’s Mikelina. She was called away tonight. I told her that I would give you the rundown of the place since I was going to be here to serve dinner anyway.”
“Thank you,” he said.
She slid the key card over to him and told him that would be how he accessed his room and the elevators. “I also have the key to your room. I will come in three times a day to make you breakfast, lunch and dinner. However, you can go into privacy mode, which will stop me from entering.”
“I doubt that will be necessary.” He followed her over to the door.
Selena showed him how to set it to private. It looked like all she did was wave the key in front of it a few times. Part of him wanted to take it apart and see how it worked.
“So my own private chef, huh? I can have whatever I want to eat?”
“As long as we can find the ingredients. Being on an island makes it a little more difficult to get some of the more obscure delicacies.”
“Like what?”
Selena gestured and they sat back down at the table. “We’ve got plenty of sushi and fresh fruit. Lobster and Wagyu beef, on the other hand, will take a few days.”
“Put me down for that.”
She jotted in her notebook. “Although keep in mind, as a wellness retreat, the emphasis will be on whole foods, with a trace of decadence.”
“I like decadence,” he said. “What I don’t like is boredom.”
“Have you been to a wellness resort before?” she asked, pouring him a glass of wine.
“No, and to be honest, I thought I was in for a week of drinking coconut water, eating bamboo shoots and navel-gazing meditating with an aging hippie.” Blaine was enchanted by her small laugh.
“We can make that happen, if that’s what you’d like.”
“I’ll stick with wine.”
“Red wine has many health benefits. It’s all about moderation.”
“I’m not good at moderation.” He twirled his fork. “Could I get another piece of that lasagna?”
“Absolutely, even though I know you’re going to go out of your way to pick out the tofu.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to suspend my disbelief and pretend it’s sausage.”
“Whatever gets you through.”
Blaine liked her smart mouth, and he liked her cooking. She slid another serving on his plate. “There’s another two pieces in case you would like some for dinner tonight. But most clients sleep right on through until the morning.”
“I won’t be able to sleep,” he said. Sleep had never been a priority for him and now that he was here, his fingers itched to be on the keyboard or on his pretty chef. “And while the lasagna is good, I’m eager to try something else for dinner.”
“Like I said, I have a key and if you’re asleep, I’ll just come back in the morning.”
“I’ll be awake.” He’d make sure of it. Checking his phone, it was three in the afternoon local time, which was nine at night his time. “Come by around seven.” It would be like a midnight snack for him. He was used to eating late. He’d often be running code and testing. Something Paul should have also been doing. Pushing aside his aggravation, he concentrated on Selena’s pretty face. He was here to relax and have a good time, damn it. Still, his finger tapped on his email and he was rewarded with a spinning disk. No signal. Fuck.
“What would you like for dinner?”
You. “Cheeseburger and fries.”
“All right,” she drawled. “What time would you like me to serve breakfast tomorrow?”
He’d rather that she didn’t leave, but he didn’t think a personal chef actually slept in the suite. Usually, he skipped breakfast or made do with a coffee and a stale doughnut from the breakroom, but he didn’t want to miss another chance to talk with her or to have a gourmet meal prepared for him. He hadn’t realized how lonely he had been until it was just him and Selena alone in the room together.
“How about eight?”
Selena nodded. “Your benefactors gave me a list of meals to prepare for you, but I wanted to get your opinion. How does eggs Benedict over taro-root muffins with asparagus on the side sound?”
“Hold the asparagus and sub in bacon and we’re all good.”
“No,” she said with a sweet smile.
“You wanted my opinion,” he said. “I’m not a vegetable-for-breakfast type of guy.”
“You’ve never had my asparagus.”
“Does it taste like coffee and a Boston cream doughnut?”
“It tastes like asparagus. Nutty and buttery and you’ll want to dip the spears into the egg yolk.”
Blaine wasn’t sure he would want to do that at all, and forced his dirty mind not to translate that into a sexual innuendo. “What’s taro root?”
“It’s a local vegetable.”
“What does it taste like?”
Selena blinked. “Like taro root.”
At least she didn’t say it tasted like chicken. “What’s it similar to?”
“It’s a root vegetable, like a potato.”
“Can I just have a potato?”
Rolling her eyes, Selena said, “Yes, but part of your journey these two weeks is to expand your culinary horizons. If you hate something, I’m not going to force you to eat it. But won’t you at least try it?”
“You’re making me feel like a kid who doesn’t want to eat his vegetables.”
Selena raised an eyebrow. “No, if I was doing that, I’d tell you I was giving you a ‘no thank you’ helping.”
Blaine finished the lasagna. This time around he could tell by the texture that it hadn’t been sausage, but the flavor had still been there. Maybe tofu wasn’t so bad. But the longer he kept her talking, the later she stayed. It was nice to have a glass of wine and dinner with someone, even if she wasn’t eating and was technically being paid to be there.
<
br /> “I’ll eat just about everything, but I’m a meat-and-potatoes guy. I’ll forgive you the tofu once, but I don’t think I’d like it again.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Blaine repeated while he thought about it. He sipped his wine. “Stubbornness?”
She laughed again. “At least you admit it. I’ve stocked the fridge with healthy snacks just in case you get hungry in between meals. Mikelina filled the pantry with most of the items you requested.”
“Most?”
“Make me a list of anything that’s missing or anything on the menu that displeases you. I’ll use the default menu unless you say otherwise.”
“Were the chips and beer out of the question?”
“I could make potato chips for you. And there is a selection of beer that the Wellness Center has permitted.” She handed him a folder. “Everything you need to know is in here. Cleaning service will come in at two p.m. every day and I will be here for about an hour for each meal to prepare and serve it. If you’re not out and about, I suggest taking a swim at that time or hanging out in the hot tub, so we’re not in your way.” Selena gestured to the patio.
“Any chance we can take the wine over there and you’d join me in the hot tub?”
Selena blushed. “I’m flattered. And tempted, but it’s probably for the best if we keep things professional.”
He liked the tempted part. It made him feel less like a lecher. He supposed she got hit on a lot. “If you insist,” he said. “I’m going to get changed and go in.”
She stood up. “I should be going anyway. You have a vacation to start.”
Disappointment flashed through him. In desperation, he racked his brains for a way to make her stay for just a few more minutes.
She hesitated, as if she was thinking the same thing. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. “I’ll just put the food away then,” she said. “Don’t worry about the dishes, the housekeepers will take care of them tomorrow.”
“I have a few more questions. I won’t keep you long. I’m not sure about this whole food nonsense.” That was a good stall tactic. He could see that she was passionate about cooking in the way her spine straightened, and her gaze sharpened.
Holiday Hookup Page 2