by Tia Wylder
After Lisa had ordered, she put her computer away and folded her long legs underneath of her body. “How was it?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not great, considering I’m back at home,” I muttered. “I can’t believe Jack. He’s such a complete asshole. You know he actually spent the night camped out in front of my hotel room?”
“Aw,” Lisa said. “That’s…actually kind of sweet.”
I groaned. “It’s not sweet,” I replied. “It’s creepy and weird. He was drunk, you know. Totally plastered.”
“Still kind of cute,” Lisa said.
“I was so mad at him,” I said, leaning back on the couch and raking a hand through my hair. “And now it all seems pointless. He apologized, too.”
“Then why did you come home?”
The doorbell rang before I could answer. Lisa got up and paid the pizza guy, then carried a delicious, steaming box over to the coffee table. I opened it and grabbed a slice, chewing greedily.
“For pizza,” I said with a smirk after I’d swallowed. “I came home for pizza.”
“I’m pretty sure they have pizza in Nassau,” Lisa said, narrowing her eyes.
“Yeah, but nothing beats this.” I took another bite, savoring the chewy, salty, cheesy goodness that was melting in my mouth.
Lisa gave me an annoyed look. “Seriously, Adele. Why did you come home if he apologized and everything?”
I sighed. “Because he came onto me right after that,” I said.
Lisa’s eyes widened. “He didn’t!”
“He did,” I said. A memory of Jack’s passionate kisses came rushing back to the front of my mind, and I pushed it away, but it wouldn’t quite fade.
“So, that’s why you left? Because you don’t like him?”
I sighed. “I…I don’t know.”
“How can you not? He’s gorgeous and rich, and he’s obviously interested in you. And hell, sure he may be a developer jerk, but he at least cares about the environment a little bit. I don’t think you could do better,” Lisa said pragmatically.
I frowned. “That’s just it,” I said slowly. “I can’t believe that Jack seriously wants anything to do with me. I’m a nobody, a nothing – I’m a grad student, for fuck’s sake! And he’s this billionaire playboy who gets everything he wants.”
Lisa bit her lip. “If he keeps coming on to you, he must like you,” she said. “And honey, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You know you’re pretty.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t care about being pretty,” I said. “I care about defeating Franchot and exposing him for the criminal that he really is.”
“Then I’d let Jack help you,” Lisa said archly as she reached for a piece of pizza. “Because I don’t think you’ll be able to do it without him.”
As I nibbled at a bite of pizza crust, deep down I knew that Lisa was right.
Chapter Ten
Jack
As I watched Adele lugging her suitcase down the hallway of the Hotel St. Charles, I groaned and leaned against the wall. What the fuck was I doing, mooning after her like some stupid teenager?
But I couldn’t help it. I was starting to realize that Adele was the perfect woman for me…if only she could keep that damned temper in check.
Without Adele around, there wasn’t much I could do about Franchot. I’d sworn to find out as much as I could, so I went back to my room and called Barnes.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” I said shortly. “I need you to work faster on Franchot – we need some hard evidence.”
To my annoyance, Barnes snickered. “And why would we do that?”
Because Adele is getting annoyed, I thought. But there was no way I could tell Barnes that without hearing him accuse me of being pussy-whipped.
“Because I need to start work on my own development at the moment,” I said. “And the sooner we can get Franchot behind us and move on, the better.”
“I see, I see, so industrious of you,” Barnes replied lazily. “Well, I’ll call in a team of paralegals and have them get to work. I can start this afternoon. I’m not doing anything better.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ah, the life of a lawyer,” I said sarcastically. “I should’ve gone to law school, instead.”
“Yeah, but then who would’ve helped out your old man?”
I groaned. “I was kidding, jerk,” I said. “Look, put some kids on Franchot today and then circle back to me later. I want to make sure this is being handled.”
“Okay, okay,” Barnes said. “Sheesh, you’re getting so demanding!”
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stretched – I was still feeling miserable and hungover – but I was starting to realize that I should make the most of my time in Nassau. Sure, Adele had gone home because she didn’t think there was anything here still worth doing…but she was wrong, and I knew it.
I took a hot shower and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. The sun was bright and sunny without a single cloud, and I was tempted to shirk my duties and go down to the beach. But I knew I had to go meet with the builders – when I’d been in the shower, I’d gotten an email from the building crew – they were already starting in the wilds of Nassau. With a reluctant last gaze out my penthouse suite window, I left my hotel room with a pair of sunglasses perched on my head and a huge bottle of water in my hand.
Outside it was hotter than hell. As soon as I stepped away from the sea air, it felt twenty degrees hotter and more humid than I could have possibly imagined. By the time I made my way into the jungle, sweat was pouring down my face. My formerly-crisp shirt was sticking to my back, and I was fanning myself. I gulped water, chugging almost the whole bottle in a matter of seconds.
Thankfully, I didn’t have long to walk. The construction site was located about two miles from the edge of the Hotel St. Charles property, and I could see that bulldozers and men were already hard at work, clearing the worst of the trees and brush away.
“Hey there!” I called loudly.
One of the men glanced up from a clipboard. When he saw me, his tanned face split into a broad grin.
“Mr. Nathan! Hello! So good of you to stop by,” he said in a crisp British accent before making his way over to me. He was wearing a yellow hard-hat and black boots that were soaked with mud and grime.
“How’s it going?” I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked into his face. “Making progress, I see.”
The man nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I’m the foreman, you can call me Bruce.”
We shook hands. He had a strong, intense grip that made me smile.
“Everything looks perfect.” I looked over his shoulder and stole a glance at the clipboard. “Are those projections.”
“Yes, sir,” Bruce replied. “Why don’t you come with me, I’ll show you around the building site.”
I nodded. Bruce led me through a densely forested area that abruptly led to a small cliff overlooking the sea.
“This is where we’ll start,” Bruce said, pointing out at the horizon. “We’ll have a small runway for a private plane to land – don’t worry, that won’t be in the view of the suites – and build a large harbor and dock right here, so ships can dock and passengers can disembark. Then we’re going to build a magnificent staircase, all out of local wood, that leads to the center of the property.”
I could practically see it now – my property in Nassau was going to be my biggest achievement yet.
“Wow,” I said. “Bruce, I have to say, this is all very impressive.”
Bruce smiled modestly. “Just working with your plans, sir,” he said. “I studied architecture extensively, and I want to assure you that everything about this property will be completely natural. There will be a blend of wildlife and nature that will make your clients feel both isolated and secluded in nature. It will be a perfect romantic spot for honeymooners or any couple that wants to take a special trip to the most beautiful part of the world.”
I grinned. “This is all
perfect,” I said. “Tell me about your plans for the small bungalows.”
Bruce led me away from the cliff and back into the sweltering heat of the trees.
“Each bungalow will be roughly two thousand square feet,” Bruce said. “With a master bedroom suite and a luxury bathroom including a tropical waterfall shower and a large soaking tub made of copper. There will be a smaller bathroom included, and the living room can be rearranged to accommodate additional guests.”
“That all sounds perfect,” I said. “And I want a lot of glass – glass windows from floor to ceiling in each bungalow.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes. “That might be difficult considering the hurricane season,” he said. “But I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it work.”
“Good,” I said. I clapped him on the shoulder. “I trust you.”
Bruce nodded. “Good,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll love what we’re going to make.”
“And what about pools?”
“The resort complex will have four pools – three cascading pools, and one small private pool facing the other side of the island.”
“I want a bar in that pool,” I said. “As well as a bar in the main complex of the resort, and twenty-four-hour room service.”
“Very good, sir,” Bruce replied. He glanced down at the clipboard. “We won’t be handling such small details for a long time, but I’ll keep your notes at the front of my mind.”
I smiled. “Perfect.” Talking with Bruce had almost made me forget the blistering heat.
“I’m sure this is going to be a well-loved property,” Bruce said. “May I show you the tiered plans we have for the bungalows?”
“Of course.”
I followed Bruce back into the clearing, and he pulled a large binder from a dusty crate on the ground. He handed it over to me, and I started flipping through. Immediately, a grin spread across my face. The plans were fantastic – even better than I’d imagined. Each bungalow opened to a private small pool as well as access to the gorgeous sea. It was more than luxury – it was an entirely new way of living. My development wasn’t just going to attract affluent couples on honeymoon. It was going to attract every wealthy person in the world, every person who wanted to have an unforgettable experience that they’d never forget.
“Well? Sir?” Bruce glanced up at me. “What do you think of the plans?”
“They’re wonderful,” I said honestly, handing the binder back to him. “And I think we should keep this relatively small – we don’t want our guests to feel overwhelmed. I want to make sure they have our attentions every hour of the day, that their every need is anticipated.”
“Of course, sir,” Bruce said. “I can arrange that.”
“Perfect,” I said. I had to admit, I was already thinking about bringing Adele here when everything was done. Surely she’d want to spend time with me, even after Franchot had been vanquished.
At least, that’s what I hoped.
“Is there anything else you’d like to see, sir?”
“No,” I said. “You’ve done a wonderful job. Thank you so much, Bruce. I really appreciate all of your help.”
Bruce smiled. “Brilliant, sir,” he said. “I’m very glad to hear it.”
By now, I was starting to feel like my body had been wrung dry of every drop of moisture. My water had long since been drunk, and I was absolutely parched. I could tell that Bruce was eager to get back to work, so I said my goodbyes to him and the rest of the crew and took off into the heavy foliage.
Except, I wasn’t quite sure I was going in the right direction. Surely it hadn’t taken me thirty minutes to walk all the way from the Hotel St. Charles to the construction site? Frowning, I pulled out my phone and glanced down at the screen. The battery was nearly dead, and I groaned when I saw that I didn’t have any reception. I tried to use the compass app, but the needle spun wildly around in unpredictable circles.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “There’s no fucking way I’m fucking lost!”
Thorny branches were scratching my cheeks and arms, but I pushed through, keeping my head low as I stumbled through the dense trees. When I saw a clearing ahead, I grinned. I’m fine, I thought, quickening my pace and darting towards the empty site. I just have to ask Bruce for directions back to the hotel – embarrassing, yeah, but not exactly the end of the world or anything.
But as I got closer to the clearing, I realized something was horribly wrong. There was no sign of Bruce or the other construction workers that I’d spotted a few minutes prior. The clearing was almost completely deserted. And there was a wild, unkempt look about it that made my heart slow in my chest. Aside from a few large pieces of construction equipment, there was nothing in sight.
There was another difference, too. The clearing wasn’t neat and organized. Trees had been roughly ripped out of the ground, their roots sticking into the air like phantom hands. I put my hands on my hips and frowned – just what the fuck was going on here, exactly?
When I heard the sound of a twig snapping behind me, I froze. I didn’t exactly know very much about the wildlife of Nassau, but I wasn’t about to fight some feral dog if it came charging. As slowly and carefully as I could, I turned around and saw the back of a chubby man running straight into the woods.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Hey, get back here!”
The man didn’t reply. Adrenaline kicked in, like a punch to my heart, and I took off at a fast pace after him. I knew that with every step, I was risking getting even more lost, but I couldn’t let this guy escape. He might be able to help me…or tell me what had happened at the messy clearing.
I ran and ran until there was a stitch on my side. The chubby man was smaller than me, but he set a surprisingly fast pace. When I saw him trip over a branch and go crashing to the ground, I leaped on top of him and pinned him down.
“Let me go!” The man barked in a heavy accent. “Let me go!”
“No,” I growled, putting my hand on the man’s throat and staring into his face. His skin was flushed and damp, and his face was so fat that his eyes were tiny black specks. It was almost eerie.
“Who the fuck are you,” I demanded. “Do you work for Franchot?”
The man squirmed and twitched under my grip. Despite his large bulk, I was able to pin him down with ease.
“Tell me,” I snarled in his face. “Tell me!”
“Yes,” the man finally said, closing his eyes and sighing in defeat.
“And what the fuck are you doing here? How has he already started to build?”
The clueless look in the man’s eyes told me he didn’t understand what I was asking.
“You work Franchot,” I said plainly. “You start work now?”
The man furrowed his brow and nodded. “Yes, start work now,” he said, shuddering.
I groaned and rolled to the side. “I need help,” I said. “I need to get back to the Hotel St. Charles.”
The man grinned. Anger rose inside of me, and I balled one of my hands into a fist before punching the man in the jaw. He winced and groaned, putting his hands up to his face and shuddering.
“You need to help me get back to the hotel,” I said angrily. “Or else.”
For once, the man looked frightened. Still trembling, he pushed me away and got to his feet. He reached into his pocket and handed me a sweaty piece of paper. I looked down and saw a crude map of the island. The hotel was there, a crude block at the far right of the paper.
But something else I saw alarmed me more. There was a very clear place of land, marked with “Jack Nathan.”
“What the fuck is this,” I demanded. “Why is my fucking development on the map?”
The man began to shake and quiver. Before I could stop him, he’d turned and fled into the trees.
This time, I didn’t have the strength to chase him. With a groan, I leaned against a tree. The sun was broiling hot overhead, and my clothes were soaked in sweat, but the panic racing through my veins was stronger than that. I could
n’t believe it. My worst nightmare had come true – Franchot was not only spying on me, but he was also actively working to take me down.
How I wish I’d taken Adele seriously now!
With the help of the rudimentary map, I got back to the hotel about an hour later. I’d never been so glad to see a building before as I walked into the lobby, savoring the cool blast of air conditioning on my skin.
When I got back to my room, I was disturbed to see that I had over fifty emails – most of them were from Barnes, and the subject lines grew increasingly irate with each new piece of mail. I took a bottle of spring water from the minibar and sat down with my laptop, scrolling through the emails until I got to the bottom.
