by Cora Brent
Luckily I was saved from having to figure out how to explain things to Cami because Anne Carter chose that exact second to breeze through the door of the conference room.
“So sorry I’m late,” she said in an affected highbrow accent that sounded like it was struggling to be British. “Hello again, Cami. I just need a few moments at my desk to get everything together and then you can start completing your new hire paperwork.” She paused, noticing me for the first time, and raised an impeccably sculpted eyebrow. “Dalton, I can ask Cami to sit in the chair beside my desk if you need this room for your interview.”
I sighed. “I’m going to be blunt. I was just talking to Cami and I don’t see how any of this is going to work.”
Anne Carter blinked. “You don’t?” She checked her watch. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. What should I tell him?”
“Who?”
“Dean Boatwright.”
I must have looked rather blank because Anne saw fit to explain. “He’s interviewing for a bartender position. I sent you his resume yesterday.”
I glanced over at Cami and saw that she seemed amused, probably because she’d already figured out what had just dawned on me.
“You’re not here for a job at the club?” I asked her.
She slowly shook her head, her shiny brown ponytail swinging from side to side. “I’m not. I was hired to work at the spa.”
“Cami is working as a receptionist and greeter at Blue Rain this summer,” Anne explained. “Cami, Dalton is the manager of our exclusive night club, Aqua Room. Were you two acquainted already?”
“Mr. Tremaine was just summarizing the high expectations here at Wild Spring Resort,” Cami said.
“That’s nice,” murmured Anne as she turned her attention to her phone. She talked as she tapped out a text. “What do you want me to do?”
I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to her phone. “About what?”
Anne Carter glanced up. “About Dean Boatwright. He’ll be here any moment.”
I shrugged. “Send him in.”
Cami stood and shouldered her purse. “It was nice meeting you, Dalton. I hope Dean Boatwright is everything you’re looking for.”
“I hope so too,” I said. “Good luck on your first day.”
Cami followed Anne out of the room. I made an effort to avoid staring at her ass again. I failed.
CHAPTER THREE
Camille
By lunch time my face was hurting. I wasn’t used to smiling constantly and my cheek muscles were getting a hard workout on my first day. After I was finished with all the ghastly paperwork that would add me to the resort payroll, Anne Carter handed me a pile of official Wild Spring Resort polo shirts and walked me over to Blue Rain, the luxury day spa where I’d be spending forty hours a week until school resumed.
As work situations went, the spa wasn’t bad at all. The serene décor, muted lighting and mystical flute music piping through the hidden speakers was a world away from the busy newsroom I thought I’d be inhabiting this summer. Yet I’d be hard pressed to find an objection to spending my days at a place like this. The only issue was that customer service didn’t come naturally to me. I was still adapting.
“Our guests are searching for a spiritual experience,” explained Eleanor, my new boss. Eleanor spoke in a hushed, tranquil tone that reminded me of a guided meditation app I’d tried once. At the time I only gave it a try because Cassie had warned that if I didn’t learn how to relax there would be a web of forehead wrinkles over my brow before I reached twenty-five.
I never really did take to meditation but I did like Eleanor. She smelled like patchouli, enveloped me in a hug the moment we met and told me I had a splendid aura.
“And smile, Camille,” she said, her own face composed in a permanent half grin even while she was speaking. “Smile.”
And so I smiled as I welcomed guests and booked appointments. Getting trained wouldn’t take long as the tasks were definitely located on the low end of the intellectual scale. But I wasn’t kidding earlier when I told the rather self-important Dalton Tremaine that I was grateful to have found a job on short notice this summer.
The thought of Dalton made me remember the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt as he crossed his arms in the conference room. I had to admit he was definitely a head turner. Easily six foot three and built like he spent half his life in the gym, his dark hair was cropped close enough to make me wonder if he’d been in the military and some elaborate ink peeked from beneath the short sleeve of his right arm. He didn’t seem like the smooth talking sort of snake oil charmer who would be managing a nightclub but I was no expert on occupations. Or men for that matter. But for some reason the memory of Dalton’s dark-eyed stare haunted me for hours after our encounter and a delicious shiver would crawl up my spine every time.
In fact when I left Blue Rain to grab a sandwich at one of the resort eateries I found myself glancing every which way in the hopes of seeing him. Then I silently cursed myself for thinking like a hormonal teenager and proceeded to chow down on my sandwich in moody silence at a table behind a wall of glass that overlooked the main pool.
With thoughts of the enigmatic Mr. Tremaine shoved aside I sat back and appreciated the view. The resort grounds were gorgeous and green enough to make a person forget she was in the middle of the desert. But I knew once I stepped outside the air-conditioned comfort I’d feel differently. The temperature was supposed to rise to a hundred and eight today and the poolside misters were on full blast, giving the scene a somewhat shimmery look. There were some little kids shrieking and running all over the shallow end of the pool while their parents sat nearby with their noses in their phones. A pair of teens were putting the water slide to good use. And one woman in a red bikini who was apparently immune to heat (and skin cancer) was lying flat on a lounge chair and absorbing the sun’s punishment.
As I finished my sandwich, the woman abruptly sat up, walked leisurely over to the deep end and dipped a shapely foot in the water. A flicker of recognition skated across my mind and in a split second I had her name handy.
Debra Martinez.
We went to high school together but I never knew her well. She was on the cheerleading squad with Cassie but always struck me as rather a vapid follower of her mean girl clique. I had no urge to step outside and say hello. Instead I disposed of my garbage and headed back to Blue Rain.
The rest of the afternoon passed smoothly, with a regular stream of clients arriving for their spa treatments. When I got a chance to check out the price list my jaw dropped over the cost of some of the options even as I scratched my head and wondered what a ‘pomegranate water treatment’ entailed.
Most of the massage therapists and other spa personnel I’d met seemed pleasant and friendly. By five o’clock I actually felt more refreshed than worn out after working a full day and had even received a few tips, though I hadn’t done much except escort guests to their treatment rooms. All in all, it had been a successful first day and I knew I wouldn’t mind coming back tomorrow.
Unfortunately, when I stepped out of Blue Rain I realized my car was still parked halfway across the resort. There was no option but to start walking. I tried to keep to the shaded canopy of the trees as much as possible to escape the brunt of the broiling sun but my skin still prickled from the heat.
When my phone buzzed in my pocket I knew instinctively the text was from Cassie. We’d always been unusually in tune with each other and I chalked it up to being a twin thing. My father, who had been born into a set of triplets, often spoke of the strong connection he shared with his brothers, Uncle Creed and Uncle Chase.
Cassie was already home and had come across some free tickets to tonight’s Diamondbacks baseball game. She wanted me to meet her in downtown Phoenix.
I smiled and texted back. Dinner first?
She answered immediately. Yes! Pizza.
The word ‘pizza’ only meant one thing to us. Our family’s favorite e
atery was a quaint place in central Phoenix called Esposito’s. It was a chain with more locations around the valley but we always favored the one in Phoenix, where we’d been going regularly since they opened about five years ago. Plus it was located only a few blocks from the ballpark so that worked out nicely. My stomach let out a little growl and I figured I was hungry enough to devour an entire pizza pie all by myself. I answered Cassie with a smiley face and noticed she was typing again.
How was your first day?
I considered how to sum up the last eight hours.
Peaceful.
That doesn’t sound terrible.
It wasn’t. I’m leaving now and should be at Esposito’s in half an hour. Order the meat lover’s pizza if you get there first.
Will do. Any eye candy in your new surroundings?
Instantly I thought of Dalton Tremaine. But given the fact that Aqua Room was a nightclub located clear on the other side of the resort I probably wouldn’t be running into its manager anytime soon. There was little point in mentioning him.
None.
My phone was on its way back to my pocket when the hum of a motor at my back startled me. I whirled around and found a golf cart closing in behind me on the walkway. And behind the wheel, looking cool and gorgeous as you please, was a certain club manager I’d been trying not to think about.
“So I didn’t manage to scare you off the premises this morning,” Dalton said with a sly grin that did strange things to my insides.
I raised an eyebrow, hoping he didn’t catch on that seeing him again left me feeling a little flustered. “Well, you were interrupted before you delivered your full speech about how I did not meet your expectations.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Embarrassment or maybe something else. After all, I could have sworn he’d been taking a long look at my ass when I whirled around to face him this morning.
But Dalton composed himself quickly and just shrugged.
“Sorry about that. It was a misunderstanding.”
“I figured. Was Dean Boatwright everything you were hoping for?”
“Ah, good old Dean.” Dalton shook his head with a small grimace. “Let’s just say you’re unlikely to be seeing him around and leave it at that.”
“I see.” I pointed at the cart. “Did you play a round on the green to ease your disappointment?”
Dalton tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “No. I’m not a huge golf fan. I was just trying to get from one place to another.”
I stepped off the sidewalk and onto the rocks. “I guess I ought to get out of your way then.”
“You weren’t in my way.” Dalton looked me over curiously. “You done for the day?”
“Yes. Blue Rain closes at five. I was just walking to my car.” My heartbeat suddenly sped up and for a few crazy seconds as he fixed his gaze on me, I wondered if Dalton Tremaine was going to ask me out.
Dalton jerked his head at the empty seat beside him. “Hop in. I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes but I don’t mind giving you a ride to your car.”
When I hesitated he added, “It’s no trouble, Cami. And I feel like I ought to make amends for this morning’s confusion.”
The Arizona heat must have made me a little soft headed because I felt myself blushing as I climbed into the seat. “Franks,” I muttered, meaning to say ‘Thanks’ and failing.
I settled in and hugged my purse in my lap. Usually I wasn’t the sort of girl whose brain became unmoored in the presence of a hot guy but I was having some trouble coming up with something else to say. Or maybe it was just hunger. My stomach reacted with a rather horrifying growl that Dalton, mercifully, pretended not to notice.
“Are you parked over in the east lot?” he asked. He drove fast.
“If the east lot is behind the main building then yes.”
We passed the pool and I saw an elderly couple immersed to their shoulders by the steps. There was no sign of Debra Martinez.
“It’s not that crowded,” I observed. “The resort, I mean.”
“It’s summer,” Dalton said. “Not a popular time to visit the desert, although you’ll still have a lot of traffic at Blue Rain from the locals.”
“And Aqua Room?”
“Sort of a world onto itself.”
“What does that mean?”
Dalton waved at an employee in a passing golf cart. “It means we don’t live by the usual ebb and flow of resort guests. We’re busy. As far as the rest of the place goes, I’ve been told that every summer there are a few special events planned to attract the local Phoenix staycation folks but on the whole things won’t pick up until September.”
I mulled over his words. “How long have you been here?”
“Almost a year,” he said, pausing at a stop sign before swinging into the large parking lot.
“And what did you do before that?”
He slowed the cart to a crawl and peered over at me. “Damn, you ask a lot of questions.”
I felt myself blushing again under his scrutiny. “Habit. My dad has always called me a natural born reporter. He thinks I was made for interrogations.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think I obliged him by becoming a journalism major.”
Dalton chuckled. “Sounds like a good fit.”
“I hope so.”
“Unfortunately, since I have a prior obligation I’m afraid I’ll have to give you all the answers some other time.” He gestured to my tired old car. “That yours?”
“Yes,” I said, wondering how he had guessed correctly since there were a few dozen vehicles scattered around. I got the feeling he was finished with his good deed and wanted to be on his way.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, hopping out before he came to a complete stop. The key fob hadn’t worked for years so I was stuck fiddling with the lock on the driver’s side door when Dalton called my name.
“Cami.”
I turned around.
“You drive safe,” he said and then piloted the golf cart toward the parking lot exit.
“You too,” I said even though he was no longer in earshot. Then I closed myself into the stifling heat of the car, cranked up the air conditioner and decided I was a jackass for crushing on a man I’d met this morning and exchanged a handful of simple sentences with.
By the time I navigated Phoenix traffic and arrived at Esposito’s, Cassie was already chowing down on some pizza. She waved at me using her half eaten slice.
“God, I’m starving,” I announced as I slid into a chair and grabbed a piece for myself.
“Don’t they let you take lunch at the fancy resort?”
“I had lunch. But you know I require frequent feedings.”
Cassie swallowed an enormous bite. “I ordered you a Dr. Pepper.”
“You’re a queen among women,” I said before sinking my teeth into my food. It was divine.
We stuffed our faces in companionable silence for a few minutes and when I felt like my stomach was temporarily satisfied I nodded to my sister. “What time does the game start?”
Cassie opened her tiny pink purse and pulled out the tickets. “In an hour,” she said, looking over the details. “Dad got them from a client.”
I wiped my greasy fingers on a napkin before handling the tickets. “Good seats. How come Mom and Dad didn’t want to go?”
“Cadence will be gone all evening, some kind of school sports night thing.”
I shrugged. “So?”
“So I’m guessing Cord and Saylor saw a chance to have the house to themselves for a few hours.”
I pretended to gag. “Gross.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Grow up.”
“No. When it comes to sex and the parental units I am forever a child and forever disgusted.”
Cassie laughed. The eternal love affair of our parents had always been a topic we groaned over but despite all our whining we knew we were fortunate to have been raised by two people who remained devoted to one another
after spending half their lives together.
“We should be as lucky as they are someday,” my twin sister mused as she seized another pizza slice.
I winked. “You can have my share of the luck.”
A brief shadow passed over Cassie’s face and I hoped she wasn’t thinking of old mistakes and the pain that followed them. She’d always been a dreamy romantic at heart. I prayed a few rotten experiences hadn’t doomed that piece of her. Cassidy Gentry was one of the best people on the planet and I didn’t just believe that because she was my sister.
“Should we get going?” I asked a short while later after noting the time.
Cassie groaned and sat back in her chair. “If I can move. Between the pizza, my taco lunch and a bunch of trips to the vending machine I’m pretty sure I ate my weight in junk food today. You may have to carry me to the stadium.”
I stood up and tossed a generous tip on the table. “Is it enough motivation if I say I’ll buy you a waffle ice cream bowl?”
“Didn’t I just explain that I was full?”
“In twenty one years I’ve never known you to turn down ice cream. I doubt you’ll start tonight.”
She considered and then got to her feet. “You’re right.”
Once we were outside we saw scores of people in bright team colors heading for the ballpark. There were a lot of baseball fans in my family and we’d been coming down here to see the Diamondbacks play since we were kids. There’s a photo I carry around in my wallet of Cassie and I at four years old, sitting in the bleacher seats and clutching giant clouds of pink cotton candy as our Uncle Chase laughed nearby. I remembered that day and knew Uncle Creed must have been the one to snap the photo. It was shortly after Cadence was born. Cassie and I were feeling a little bit knocked out of the spotlight so we were overjoyed when our uncles showed up to take us out for a special day at the ballpark. They gave us anything we wanted and treated us like princesses, like they always did. When they brought us home my mother had raised an eyebrow over our sticky faces and ketchup-stained shirts but she didn’t complain. She smiled and told my father it would be a good idea to run a bath for us before we got near the living room furniture. He grinned at us and agreed. That was a nice day.
