Business & Pleasure_A Dad's Best Friend Romance

by Tia Siren

  Grayson, on the other hand, had never enjoyed the family business, and he’d said more than once, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted nothing to do with it. He damn sure didn’t want to spend the summer pouring drinks down rich people’s gullets and trying to entice rich bimbos to lure their daddies to the investor’s table. What he really wanted to do was go with his buddies on a deep-sea scuba-diving trip. There were plenty of places to do it in the area, as his father had pointed out many times, but Grayson had grown up in those waters, and even that bored him. He was ready to go out and stretch his legs, and he was tired of life and his father making him feel as if he’d been cut off at the knees.

  Jon shifted in his seat. “Look, all I’m askin’ is that you just spend some time with her, Grayson. Tell her about the resort and mention that we’re looking for investors and would love to talk to her father. I’m not asking you to sleep with her. Heaven knows you get enough of that kind of action.”

  The last remark was said with a dryness Grayson recognized as sheer disapproval, but he really didn’t care about his father’s disapproval on that matter either. It was impossible to be surrounded by so many half-naked women, young ladies slurping down fruity liquor till the only reservations they had left were the ones they held in the VIP rooms at the resort, without giving in to their advances. “Okay,” he finally muttered with a sigh. Of course he wasn’t going to do what his father was asking of him, but he didn’t want to prolong the argument, the same argument the two of them had had a million times.

  Grayson held some deep resentment for Jeff, his older brother, who had somehow earned a free pass and skipped out on the hellish long summer hours. That little sibling rivalry raged on in Grayson’s head every time he thought of his brother heading off to a few super-awesome resorts that comped his way. It was all about a con game, of sorts, a sleight of hand his father liked to call “brand ambassadorship.” It really rankled Grayson to the core. Yes, Jeff was better at that kind of thing, no doubt, so he was the perfect candidate for the job, but if not for those junkets Grayson would not have had to take up the glad-handing slack at their home resort just then.

  After Jon walked off, Grayson released a long breath and poured himself a cool, tall glass of fruit juice. It was sweltering under the fake thatched roof of the tiki hut, and he was sweating bullets. The temptation to dive into the pool or the ocean was high, but he couldn’t abandon his post no matter how badly he wanted to. The precious, spoiled guests would scream their heads off, but not before his dad would chew off his.

  Damn it, he thought with a groan. He really didn’t mind working or even being part of the family business. What really irked Grayson was that he wasn’t allowed to decide what he wanted out of his own fucking life. In fact, he minded that a hell of a lot.

  As he sipped his fruit juice, wondering if he should have poured something stronger, his eyes went to Riley. He decided right then and there that his best course of action would be to simply ignore her, then fib to his father and say he wasn’t able to get close enough to speak to her, except for the rare occasions when she swam over to his bar.

  It wasn’t that he wanted to see his father’s resort fail. In fact, he wanted nothing but great success and happiness for his dad. It just irritated him that he was suddenly thrust into the role of being a smooth-talker and hustler, a role he had never asked to play. He was good with women and had his pick of them, but he didn’t like taking advantage of them. He preferred to go after girls who really wanted his attention, and Riley had already made it quite clear that all she wanted from him was a drink now and then. My vacation’s already wrecked. Why should hers be, too?

  Chapter 2

  Megan looked up as Riley approached. “That bartender’s hot. You should totally go for him.”

  Riley sipped the fruity drink, then grimaced. “I don’t think I’m his type.”

  Megan rolled over, exposing her flat tummy and surgically-enhanced D-cups. “You’re everyone’s type—or at least you would be if you’d stop being so damn uptight all the time. You walk around in that bikini that looks like two pasties and a Band-Aid, but you act like Mary freaking Poppins. You’re such a good girl. It drives me crazy.”

  “Mary Poppins? Really, Megan.”

  “Yes, really. Then again, maybe you have a point. Even she knew how good sugar can be, but you won’t even give away a spoonful!”

  Lorna flopped down on a lounger next to Megan’s, and Riley took the next one down. Her eyes wandered back to the hotcakes bartender. He was hot, smoking hot, but he was definitely not her type at all. He was lean and smoothly muscled, with no bulky biceps or obvious flexing. It wasn’t that she was into the weightlifter types either, though. What she really preferred was a shy, quiet guy, someone who didn’t care so much about money but was focused on important things like education. Sure, she knew what everyone said about opposites attracting, but all she really wanted was someone like her. “Yeah, well, if I do decide to give away a spoonful of sugar, it’s not gonna be to someone like him,” she finally retorted.

  Now it was Lorna’s turn to ream their prudish friend. “You have got to loosen up, Riley. This is your last real summer vacation. In a few weeks, adulthood’s gonna come crashing down on you. You’ll be working for your dad, and you already know how much that’s going to suck. I mean, we came here so we could cut loose, without the paparazzi swarming us.”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding at the truthful observation. Everyone else they knew was dancing down in South Beach or hitting the other hot spots where the celebrities and trust-fund darlings congregated. Riley wanted a chance to really let go for a while, and she knew she should. Lorna wasn’t wrong at all. Once their vacation came to an end, she would be stuck living a good girl’s life until her father either gave up on politics or got into them and retired. Either way, she’d spend the rest of her life pasting on that fake smile, doing that stupid little parade wave with her hand, and convincing everybody that she was a beautiful, wholesome girl with plenty of brains. There would definitely be no room for any shenanigans in her life after they returned from the trip—not that there had ever been a time when she was allowed to be anything less than perfect.

  A surge of resentment flooded through her. Her entire life was built for her by her father, her mother, and their team of publicists, staff, nannies, and private school teachers and tutors. Nothing about her world was ever left to chance. As entitled as she was, she was never entitled to make her own decisions. Everything was weighed and carefully discussed, then carefully weighed again, right down to what she wore to what events. Visiting that strip of sand and water, which was not exactly off the beaten path but was definitely well below the rich sector’s radar, was a decision that did not sit well with her uppity family. They needed her to be very visible just then, the good girl amongst the girls behaving badly. They wanted her to be photographed behaving with decorum and grace, even on her vacation, and when she refused that notion, point blank, they were sure she’d lost her mind. Hell, they might have had me locked up in a loony bin, if not for the bad press that would generate, she thought, imagining herself in a straitjacket in a rubber room, with reporters and cameramen peeking through the tiny window at her.

  The inevitable discussions about what was best for the family—in other words, her father’s reputation—was dragged out and dissected time and time again, but Riley held firm. She wanted to visit a place where she could simply relax, without having to worry about what the media or the world thought of her if she just so happened to be caught with that Windy Hammer in her hand.

  She’d never had the chance to figure out who she was or what she really wanted. She had never had the chance to just have some fun and enjoy life. Now, there she was, at a gorgeous, low-key resort, with not one photographer in sight, but she was still not doing anything she wouldn’t do anywhere else. She knew her friends were right, and it was high time to do something about it.

  “You’re right,” Riley said with a sigh. “I
’m way too much of a good girl, but seriously, I know that guy’s not really into me. What’s more, he looks like the type who sleeps with every bikini that crosses his path. I wanna go home from here with memories, ladies, not…warts in bad places.”

  “Oh brother,” Lorna said.

  Megan grinned at Riley. “If he really is as easy as you say, you shouldn’t have any trouble seducing him, even though your skills in that area are, uh…like, zero.

  “He’s a man-slut!”

  “C’mon, Riley. What could it hurt to try? You don’t really know the guy…or if he’s contagious,” Megan said with a roll of her eyes.

  Riley knew she was being defensive, but she was also being brutally honest. Sleeping with men she didn’t know wasn’t her style, and she really did worry about all those nasty conditions she’d read about in pamphlets and online. She certainly didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of the family doctor or, worse, go home from her vacation with a sex-earned death sentence.

  “You do know they make condoms these days, right?”

  Riley nodded. “Yes, and you do know those things can break or be less than effective, right? I mean, c’mon. No way.”

  “Fine. Then how about that wind-surfer out there? He looks pretty hot,” Megan suggested, pointing to a muscular, very tan guy whose long, wavy brown hair drifted in the wind behind him as he expertly sailed over the waves.

  “Whoa. If you don’t want him, Rile, I call dibs,” Lorna enthused.

  “Be my guest.” Riley dug her toes into the towel covering the lounger.

  “Hmm. Well, I don’t mind if I do…but I’ve gotta say, I think you’re nuts.” With that, she got up and headed around the edge of the pool, toward the gate that made the resort inaccessible to the public.

  Riley shook her head. Lorna was always the adventurous one, her complete and utter opposite. Megan was somewhere in between. They’d been that way their whole lives. Megan had once told her that since their parents were nowhere as well off as Riley’s, they had a lot less to lose by doing whatever they wanted to. Now, Riley had to accept that maybe her friend was right about that.

  Riley had everything to lose—not just her trust fund, which she wasn’t sure she really cared about, given that she had plenty of good contacts in the work world and could make her own living, thanks to all that networking and the really prestigious degree she’d just earned. It was just that her life was vastly complex, and she was gambling with a lot on the table. For one thing, she didn’t want to risk losing the approval of her parents. That was hard-won, something they grudgingly gave and something they’d made her sweat for, cry for, and work her ass off for. To lose that would be unbearable, she was sure.

  She sometimes wondered why she cared so much about what her folks thought, because they didn’t always act as if they cared very much about her. In many ways, she felt like a pawn stuck in their own personal game of Monopoly, being moved around the board by someone else, for their gain, and that irritated her. Still, in the grand scheme of things, she did care about her mom and dad, and she couldn’t help wanting to be part of their lives.

  Lorna spent a little time chatting up the surfer dude, then turned her head to give Riley and Megan a wink before she trotted off down the beach with him. He looked like the type who always had a little weed and a few condoms stashed in the deep pockets of his board shorts, but Lorna wasn’t too picky. Even as she worried about her friend, Riley admired her for being so bold, ready to take on whatever came her way.

  Riley glanced over at the bar and was instantly caught in the stare of the bartender. She quickly looked away, wondering why he was ogling her. What a jerk! She was sure he didn’t care for her type, either, since he made a big scene in flirting with the brunette with the boobs so big she looked like a pontoon boat from the right angle. Riley was sure Megan would be a better match for him, but Megan seemed to be off in her own world, just happily lazing on the lounger, with one leg kicked up high, staring at a gorgeous blond with his tight ass tucked snugly into a speedo.

  Riley shifted uneasily. It seemed all she had done since she arrived at the resort was stare at guys she would never be bold enough to hit on. Her self-confidence took a dive every time she considered just walking up to and off with any guy of any sort.

  The idiot behind the bar was no exception. While she couldn’t deny his hotness, she also knew, even from their limited interaction, that he was a huge asshole. When his eyes met hers again, she felt the probe of them pushing past the defense of her sunglasses. Disgusted, Riley turned her head and stared out at the vista of the pool and stunning water beyond it.

  The setup of the place really was clever. The infinity edge of the pool gave the impression that she could swim right from the pool to the sea, and in that moment, with that idiot staring at her like a shark looking at a bloody swimmer, she wished she could do just that.

  Lorna dashed back over to them, smiling from ear to ear.

  Megan lifted her head. “What’s up?”

  “Guys, he’s got this totally hot friend. Who’s in? We’re gonna head out on the jet ski so he can teach me to use the fly board!”

  Megan looked over at Riley. “Well?”

  “No thanks,” she said, having seen the terrifying fly boards before. Even more terrifying was that she did not know the surfer boy or his friend. There was no way she was going to wander off with them, even if their bodyguards, who were now pretending to lounge casually near a few empty barstools and tables set on the sand, were on duty.

  As if she could read Riley’s thoughts, Megan’s eyes went to the guards. “Damn. We need to dump those overpaid stalkers,” she complained.

  “Just go. I’ll stay behind.” Riley managed a smile. “I mean, as long as I’m here, they won’t bother you.”

  “My parents suck for agreeing to that.” Lorna dusted her hips with one hand. “Of course, yours suck more for suggesting it.”

  “I know.” Riley sighed. “Dad thinks I’m gonna get abducted.”

  “More likely he’s worried you’ll get laid, and his precious press will find out you actually have a working vagina.” Lorna sighed. “You sure you don’t wanna go?”

  “You two go on and have fun,” Riley said as a deep sense of regret smacked her right in the face again. She hated being a Debbie Downer, but she was just so guarded all the time, by herself and those stupid bodyguards her father stuck to her like glue.

  Lorna and Megan didn’t ask again, knowing there was no point in arguing with their stubborn, rather boring friend. They ran off toward the guy, who’d already been joined by his stoner friend. Within a few moments, the quartet was practically skipping down the sand, toward a pair of matching jet skis that were bobbing in the water.

  Riley watched them go and desperately wished she was there to be the fifth wheel. Sighing, she decided it was probably for the best. Yes, she wanted to cut loose, but she didn’t really even know how, and even if she figured that out her constantly present goons would just tell her dad every single thing she did. Why do they have to be so damn good at their job? Riley thought as she sipped her drink and looked over at them, then darted her eyes briefly to the bartender again. Oh, that’s right. Only the best for Daddy’s little darling.

  Chapter 3

  Megan texted hours later to let Riley know they were going to hit up a few clubs, and invited her along. Riley, seated on the balcony with a book, sighed audibly, then texted her refusal of the invitation and told her friends to have fun. It seemed she was always doing that, telling others to have the fun she was supposed to be having herself, and it was really starting to get to her.

  Irritated by her own inability to enjoy life whatsoever, she slammed her book shut and tromped down the stairs to the restaurant, hoping a good meal followed by a long soak in the enormous jetted tub in her room might lift her spirits. “I am having fun, damn it,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

  Just as she rounded a corner, she ran right into the hunky, cocky bartender. Knocked o
ff balance, she nearly tumbled to the carpet, except that he reached out and caught her in his strong arms. Stunned and slightly embarrassed that she’d likely been caught talking to herself, Riley muttered, “Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. I was just—”

  “No worries.”

  The simple touch of his hand left delicate shivers running up and down her skin. Their bodies were so close, and those tremors seemed to grew hotter and more intense with each passing second, so much so that she was compelled to take a quick step back. When he let her go, she felt a strange urge to collide back into him all over again, just to feel those delicious little heated quivers on her flesh.

  “Well… Sorry again,” she said, swallowing hard to rid the lump from her throat.

  His eyes, dark and as lovely a blue as the water outdoors, ran across her face but didn’t dip below her chin, which surprised her. At first, he seemed interested in nothing but checking women out from a physical standpoint. She was bummed to discover that either he was a gentleman after all, or there just wasn’t a thing about her that turned him on. As the realization hit Riley, her confidence, always a little low, suffered another setback. She knew she was pretty. She just had no idea how to talk to guys, especially those who looked like him, and the whole idea of fun was still far beyond her realm of expertise. Her life had been limited to getting the education her father insisted on so she could go to work for one or more of his many corporations, always behaving as her folks wanted her to.

  She nervously twisted her fingers together, suddenly desperate to talk to him. She didn’t want to let him walk away, even though she wasn’t sure why. There was just something about him, that server of drinks, that drew her in, as if he was literally magnetic, if not magic. “Are you, uh…off-duty?”