Holiday Hookup

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  “Okay,” Selena said. “I’ve got to warn you. I’m going to cook you good food and you’re going to enjoy it.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” He went to the bedroom and shucked off all his clothes. After grabbing the Turkish robe off the hook in the bathroom. He wrapped it around himself.

  When he came back out, she had soft jazz playing on the stereo. He couldn’t help himself. He got hard. All he could think about was pulling off that chef’s jacket and dancing around the living room with her in his arms. His toes curled into the soft rug. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. For the past year, it had been all business, day and night.

  “We’re going old school with technology.” She showed him how to use the stereo, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was more interested in the curve of her cheek and the soft scent of her perfume. She smelled like the sweet plumeria flowers from the lobby.

  “I can’t believe I can’t get Wi-Fi or a cell signal,” he said, moving away from her before he made her uncomfortable. He poured himself another glass of wine and went out to the hot tub.

  “Let me show you how to adjust the settings.” Selena showed him how to control the heat and the jets. He had her set them on high, so the bubbles obscured what was under the surface.

  “What else did my benefactors have in store for me?” he asked, before taking a sip of wine. If Mitchell and Paul could see him now, they would be green with envy. Thinking about them made him wish for his phone to check his emails. But his phone was as good as a brick right about now. His laptop still had code and blueprints on it, but without being able to dial into the company’s VPN he was limited on what he could work on.

  Selena stared into his eyes for a little longer than necessary and he wondered if he should try for a kiss. “Let me get my notebook.”

  When she hurried back inside, Blaine dropped the robe over a chair and stepped down into the deep hot tub. Sitting on the built-in bench, he sank up to his ears. The wine and the heat of the water filled in all the ragged places inside him and he was shocked at the lethargic feeling that came over him. He had slept for twelve hours; how could he still be tired? It was still daylight. He wondered what sexy Selena had in store for the rest of the day.

  What was he going to do for the rest of the day?

  She pulled up a chair to the hot tub, her notebook in hand.

  “Why don’t you sit on the edge and dangle your feet in?”

  “That’s not very professional,” she said, but she looked at the water longingly.

  “Fuck professional,” he said. “It’s just you and me. And I won’t tell.”

  A slight shiver passed through her, and he wondered if she was feeling the same attraction he was.

  She smirked and he caught a little bit of the wild child she was hiding. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” After kicking off her shoes, she rolled up her pants and sat opposite him. Dangling her feet in the water, she reached up for her notebook.

  “I’m going to be bored out of my mind, aren’t I?”

  “Your family gave Mikelina a suggested list of activities that you might like. She’s gone ahead and signed you up for these events, but you don’t have to do them if you don’t want to.” She passed him the notebook and he read through them.

  “Yeah,” he snorted. “Not my style.”

  “Like the asparagus, you should at least try it.”

  “I’d like to go on a helicopter ride over the volcanos, take surfing lessons, maybe parasailing. I need something to spike my adrenaline or I’m going to go insane. Are there any challenging hikes?”

  “Sure. Pe’ahi on the North Shore is a good place for that, plus waves are insane. Just for watching, though, unless you’re a professional surfer.” She reached for her notebook and jotted his requests down. “I can pass your suggestions along to Mikelina, and she’ll make the arrangements. I’ll tell her you want to keep busy, but in a relaxing way.”

  “That sounds like an oxymoron.”

  “Not really. You’re on Hawaii time now, bruddah.” She flashed him the shaka, the thumb-and-finger sign that all islanders did.

  He gave it back to her. “I think I’m going to need a shark-tooth necklace.”

  “We can get that for you.” Selena scribbled it down.

  “I’m not keeping you from another client, am I?”

  “Nope,” Selena said. “I’m all yours for two weeks.”

  “Outstanding,” he drawled, loving the way her face flushed when she realized what she’d said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SELENA COULDN’T BELIEVE she had said that. She wrapped up the rest of the orientation and hurried out of there with her shoes in her hand. Smooth, she berated herself once she reached the lobby. She hadn’t expected Mr. High-Strung Corporate Shill to look like a pirate in person, with the body of a Viking, and ice-blue eyes she shivered with cold just looking in them.

  It was going to be a long two weeks. She had been this close to joining him in the hot tub. As it was, the vision of his chiseled ass as he dropped the robe to get into the tub was going to be featured in her late-night fantasies. She had been peeking from the kitchen. Selena could only hope that jet lag caught up to him by the time dinner arrived. He made her feel reckless and like breaking all the rules. Starting with eating with a client and ending with fraternizing with him all night long.

  Selena went to the local market to get the ingredients for the cheeseburger and fries he ordered. Of course, she was going to make them her way. The Lahaina market was walking distance from the wellness center. There were lights on the palm trees, but that was as holiday as it got here. This was a local place, hidden from the tourists. Sitting on the bench, she watched the surfers and tried to dredge up a smidgen of the attraction she felt with Blaine Stephens. No luck. She kept seeing his intense eyes and gorgeous smile. She should have gotten in the hot tub with him. Well, he was going to be there for two weeks. Maybe there would be another opportunity. It would be her Christmas present to herself.

  She treated herself to a root beer shaved ice with a splash of sweet condensed milk topping it to cool off. But she took too long savoring it while people-watching. It melted all over her hands. When she was done with her sticky treat, she went into the public bathroom to clean up.

  Kelli Ann, one of their snorkeling instructors, was in there and it looked like she was trying her hardest to stop crying.

  “Kelli, what’s wrong?” she said.

  “Titus just fired me,” she sobbed.

  That jerk! “Why?”

  Kelli shook her head. “It was innocent. I was just taking the client out by Molokini Crater. We had a good day of snorkeling and then he wanted to do some sunbathing on the boat.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Selena said, washing her hands and drying them on raspy brown paper that was in the dispenser.

  “He wanted to do it in the nude.”

  “Okay,” Kelli said. “Clients are weird. They have weird requests. Did you feel safe?”

  “More than safe.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I joined him, and we wound up having sex.”

  Selena hid a wince. “Well, you’re two consenting adults. I don’t see the problem.” Although fraternizing with the clients was against the rules, she didn’t think it was a fireable offense, especially if no money exchanged hands. It wasn’t professional and usually added more problems than it was worth, which was why she wasn’t bouncing on Blaine in the hot tub right now.

  “It was with Tyger Li, the front man for the Volcano Bois.”

  “Nice,” Selena said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Very nice. Except, he’s got a big mouth and Titus overheard him telling his band members how awesome it was. Next thing I know, Titus fired me without references because he’s not, quote—running a brothel—unquote.”

  Le
ave it to Titus to overreact and then fire someone a few weeks before Christmas. “That sucks. Is there anything I can do? I can give you a reference, if you need it. You’re a kick-ass snorkeling guide.”

  “Thanks,” she sniffed. “I hope the rumor of why I got fired doesn’t get around.”

  “I won’t say a word.” Selena crossed her fingers over her heart.

  “I slept with him because I wanted to. He didn’t expect it. I wasn’t paid for it. In fact, we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

  “Good for you.” Selena hugged her. “Then don’t worry about a thing. Hold your head up high and enjoy your romance while you can.”

  They exchanged numbers and Selena went to the vegetarian market to pick up the ingredients she would need. Kelli Ann’s story should have been a warning to her. She couldn’t afford to get fired for eight more months. But instead, Selena was picturing making love to Blaine under the warm Maui sun. Although, if she got fired—and that was a big if since she technically worked for Kirk and not Titus—she could start her life in Paris sooner. Of course, enrolling in culinary school would have to wait until she secured a job and housing. She had been hoping to be sent to Paris before her contract was up so she could do some scouting around.

  But what if the sex wasn’t good? It would be awkward cooking for him for another two weeks. What if it was just all right? Then he’d be wanting to play grab ass while she was cooking in the kitchen. Nah, it was easier to find a lover that she could walk away from if it got too difficult. She had a feeling Blaine’s middle name was difficult.

  After making her purchases, Selena strolled back to the wellness center. Unlike other properties, the staff had their own studio apartments on site. She put the groceries in her fridge and went to find her Bullet Journal, but it wasn’t in her purse.

  She must have left it in Blaine’s suite. Selena didn’t want to call and bother him. He had to have some down time to decompress from the long plane ride and get settled. But her fingers itched for her journal. It had all her plans for her restaurant and Cordon Bleu in it. Looking at her phone for the time, she had to be back over there in two hours anyway. She could wait the two hours. But she wasn’t sure what she was going to do if the journal wasn’t there. Staring at her phone, she wished that she could text him. While she had the password for the Wi-Fi and her phone could be a personal hotspot in an emergency, that wasn’t common knowledge.

  If the clients knew all the staff had the internet, they’d be mobbed.

  Maybe Blaine would be asleep, and she could sneak in and out and he wouldn’t even notice.

  Selena flipped through a magazine and tried to relax, but she couldn’t. She wound up taking a long shower, making sure to shave and then cover herself with soft lotion. She wanted to be prepared in case things between her and Blaine did escalate. Grabbing a new chef’s coat, she took the groceries and headed over to the penthouse. So what if she was over an hour early? She could tell Blaine that she needed the extra time to prepare. She’d be in the kitchen, completely out of his way—once she got her journal back.

  “Selena!”

  Oh no. Not him. She plastered a fake smile on her face and willed the elevator to come down fast. “Hello, Titus.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “My job,” she said between her teeth, still smiling.

  He peeked into the bag and beamed. “What are you making?”

  “The client had a special request for dinner.”

  Titus consulted his tablet. “Mr. Stephens requested a vegan meal?”

  “He requested a bacon cheeseburger and fries.”

  “Good girl,” he said, and patted her shoulder.

  She managed not to flinch. The elevator finally came, and she stepped back into it.

  “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he said, with a wave.

  The elevator doors closed.

  “Not if I see you first.”

  All she needed was that asshole on her case. The elevator doors opened, and she stormed into the penthouse, still fuming about Titus’s hand on her shoulder. She was in the kitchen before she realized that she hadn’t even seen Blaine. Before she got started, she looked around the first floor for him. He had gotten out of the hot tub and was sitting under the wide umbrella in a sling-back chair. At least, he had put on a bathing suit. It looked like something Mikelina would have picked out for a client who requested the swimming package added on to the room. She glanced around and sure enough there was a towel, and snorkeling gear. She wondered if Blaine would have suggested naked sunbathing to Kelli Ann.

  Probably.

  Selena cut a look at him and saw he was reading her journal.

  “Hey,” she said, using the anger that was still simmering over Titus. “That’s mine. You have no right to read that.”

  “You handed it to me. I thought it had all of my itinerary and menus in it.”

  It did. And he had her there. “Once you realized there was more, you should have put it down and stopped reading it.”

  “I would have, but I’m fascinated. Your idea for a restaurant seems solid. I couldn’t do any forecasting or checking because—” He picked up his phone and dropped it on the table. “I can’t access the internet.”

  She held out her hand and he gave her back the journal. He pretended to dangle it as bait for her to come closer, but let her have it without a fight when she snatched it out of his hands.

  “Is it seven o’clock yet?” he asked, stretching.

  “Not quite. I have some prep work to do in the kitchen for your dinner.”

  “I’m bored. Do you mind if I watch?”

  “Yes,” she said. “My kitchen. My rules.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Can we still talk if I sit out in the dining room? Or will I be bothering you?”

  She could play the hard-ass, but she had no business even being right here. “Yeah, sure.” She slipped the journal back into to her purse, wondering if she had anything embarrassing in there.

  “Who’s Anton? He sounds like a dick.”

  “He is,” she said, leaving him sitting at the dining room table as she went into the kitchen.

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Barf. He was my boss.”

  “I want to Google him, but I can’t. I want to do some work, but I can’t.”

  She poked her head out of the kitchen. “You’re here to relax, not work.”

  “I relaxed. I soaked in the hot tub. I lay out in the sun. I read a book.”

  Selena glared at him and went back into the kitchen to mix up the beans with the other ingredients.

  “I was thinking of hitting the bars tonight.”

  Ignoring the little stab of jealousy that she had no right to feel, she said, “That’s nice.”

  “But I don’t have the internet to look up clubs and none of these brochures advertise anything like that.”

  Continuing to work, she made a sympathetic noise that she didn’t really mean.

  “I don’t suppose you could show me around town.”

  She thought back on Titus. “Not tonight.”

  “That’s not no,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, it’s just the general manager fired our snorkel instructor today for screwing a guest and I bet he’s on high alert for other indiscretions.”

  “This wouldn’t be screwing, though. Would it?” He appeared in the doorway.

  “Out.” She pointed with the spatula.

  “What’s that contraption?” he asked, pointing to the steel cutting machine she had set up on the counter.

  “It’s a mandoline. It’s going to make your fries have the ridges in them.” She looked up. “Are you interested in cooking?”

  He gave a half shrug. “I don’t have time for it. Do you want to come back to Michigan and be my personal chef?”

  She smirked. “You cou
ldn’t afford me.”

  “I bet I could.”

  When she frowned at him, he gestured to her purse. “Looking at those numbers, I could buy you out of your contract and pay you what Five Diamonds is paying you.”

  “No offense, but if it’s between exotic properties all over the world and... Detroit? I think Cabo San Lucas and its ilk win out,” she said, peeling the vegetables.

  “Detroit’s not so bad.”

  “How much snow did you guys get last winter?” she asked.

  “Only ten inches,” he said.

  “Yeah, it went down to ten degrees in Maui.”

  “Fahrenheit or Celsius?”

  “Celsius.”

  Blaine looked at the ceiling and his mouth moved as he calculated. “That’s fifty degrees Fahrenheit.”

  “Brrr,” she said and fake shivered.

  “The kitchen would be nice and warm,” he said.

  “Ha ha,” she said. “Seriously, you saw the book. After my contract is up here, I’m Paris bound.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you read the journal.” She chopped the onions into a fine dice and then switched to the herbs.

  “Damn, you’re fast with that knife. Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “I’d never stab you with this knife.”

  “That’s good,” he said.

  “I’d use one of those ginzo ones.” She pointed to the stocked knife block.

  “Great,” he said. “So why Cordon Bleu?”

  “So I can learn to cook.” She sprinkled the herbs and spices into the bean mixture and let that sit while she rubbed the vegetable over the mandoline’s edge, making a pile of ridged, frenched fries.

  “What are you doing now?” he asked. “Because that sure looks like cooking to me.”

  “It’s different when you’re a professional chef. I need to work on my glazes and my sauces are for shit.” Great, now she was parroting Anton.

  “I’d like to be the judge of that.”