He didn’t appear appreciative, sitting there watching her like a hawk staring down a field mouse.
“No appreciation necessary. I did my job, that’s all.”
“Your commitment goes above and beyond the job. How about this: be my date for the Las Ventanas re-launch party?”
“I—” Had his fever burned away all common sense? “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Her lungs felt trapped in her rib cage. “You know very well why not. I don’t work there anymore. I have no business reason to attend, and going as your date essentially tells the world we’re sleeping together.”
“As it happens, we are sleeping together.”
His logic only intensified the pressure in her chest. “And we agreed to be discreet. There is nothing discreet about attending the party together. It’s the exact opposite. I grew up at Las Ventanas. Some of the people there have known me all my life. Everyone would say—”
“It’s not everyone you’re concerned about. It’s Barrington.”
Paul rated so low on her list of concerns, she almost laughed. Guarding her heart, and her sanity, not to mention her professional reputation—those were concerns. “This isn’t about Paul. It’s about me.”
“Or is it about her?”
The flu had flattened her. She couldn’t keep up with this conversation. “Her who?”
Rafe traced his thumb along the sensitive corner where her lips met. “Cindy. Have you heard from her?”
The barrage of emails and texts from Cindy sprang to mind, filled with accusations and suspicions she’d done nothing to earn, but now, under Rafe’s sharp gaze, heat swept into her cheeks. He’d already overheard her speaking to Paul, and drawn his own conclusions. Admitting Cindy shared his ugly suspicions, to the point of sending multiple daily warnings, only legitimized them.
“I haven’t contacted her.”
“That’s not what I asked.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “And you’re dangerously close to polluting this lovely mouth with a lie.”
She tipped her chin away and broke the contact. “Don’t ask me a question if you already know the answer.”
“I’d like to hear your answer. Trust me enough to tell me what’s going on.”
The unfairness of the situation overwhelmed her, or maybe it was the trace of pity in his eyes, but suddenly everything came spilling out. “Look, I’m not chasing after Paul, despite what everyone seems to think. Tuesday night you overheard the one and only time I’ve exchanged words with him since he dumped me, and the sole reason I took his call was to tell him I had no interest in reconciling. I didn’t get that far, unfortunately, because Cindy interrupted. She’s convinced I’m a threat. They’re having problems and it’s easier for her to blame me than accept that she doesn’t inspire any more loyalty from him than I did.”
She drew in a long, unsteady breath, hoping the burn in her throat would subside. “Seven thousand miles and I still can’t get beyond the debacle I walked away from last year. I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m the one on the defensive, and I’m forced into interactions I didn’t invite. All I wanted was a fresh start.”
A warm, strong hand uncurled her fist from the blanket. “I can help.”
The offer meant a lot. For one, it meant he believed her, and the show of support steadied her more than it should. She shook her head. “No. This is my problem. I don’t want to pull you in.”
“You didn’t. Cindy made it St. Sebastian’s problem when she sent inappropriate emails to you using her work account. We terminated her employment today, and agreed to pay severance in the form of salary continuation for twelve weeks provided she never contacts you again. You need to let me know immediately if she fails to honor the terms.”
“Oh, Jesus.” He already had his hands full with Las Ventanas. The last thing he needed was another issue. “I’m sorry—”
“I’m not.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “Not about that, at any rate. She needed to go. It was only a question of time, and she resolved the question for us.” He paused and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry about my behavior Tuesday night. I felt like hell, and I took it out on you. I owe you an apology.”
The sincerity of his words soothed away her hurt feelings. They also made her face heat, because she couldn’t help thinking about the last time he’d apologized to her. She looked down at their linked hands. “No apology necessary.”
“I disagree.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I look forward to earning your forgiveness.” The heat in her cheeks spread like wildfire. Apparently they weren’t at odds anymore, but she probably looked pretty…uh…unforgiveable at the moment. “N-now?”
He laughed, leaned in, and kissed her forehead. “You’re beautiful, but I meant later, when you’re feeling better. I need you at full strength to offer you a proper apology. In the meantime, the least I can do is feed you. What sounds appetizing?”
“I didn’t realize you knew how to cook.”
“I know how to use a phone.”
“Room service is hard to come by on my side of the island.”
“I also know how to drive a car. What are you in the mood for?”
They settled on takeout from a local deli, and she told herself she’d shower while he went to pick up their order. But when he left, her momentum faded. The peaceful silence, broken only by the gentle lullaby of the neighbor’s wind chime, dulled her ambition.
The next time she opened her eyes pale fingers of dawn pried around the edge of the curtain. A note sat on her nightstand, beside a shiny red apple.
To keep the doctor away. See you soon. Rafe.
“What are you doing Friday night? I need a date to the Las Ventanas re-launch party.” Passengers filed through the first class cabin. Rafe nodded at the “five minute” signal from the flight attendant and fastened his seat belt.
“I don’t think you can call it a date if you bring me,” Arden said. “Since when do you have any trouble finding a real date?”
His sister usually steered clear of St. Sebastian events. She disliked the “hotel heiress” stigma the press had tried to foist on her from an early age, and avoided playing to it, but she’d go if he asked. “My first choice was unavailable.” Unwilling, to be precise, and the fact still burned in his gut. The odds of convincing her to extend their arrangement beyond the close of the deal looked slim given he couldn’t even convince her to go on a public date with him.
“And your second choice? And third, for that matter? I think your bench goes deeper than first choice, and then boom, little sister.”
Leave it to Arden to turn a simple request into a character assassination. “You’re my second choice. I thought it would be nice to spend the evening with my sibling. At least I did, until this call.”
“Who was your first choice?”
“None of your business.” Not subtle, but subtlety never worked on Arden.
“Somebody new.”
Neither, apparently, did rudeness. But her observation piqued his curiosity. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re not attached to any of the priors. You’d just call the next eligible bachelorette on your list if the first one couldn’t make it. But this one’s not interchangeable. You want her or nobody at all.”
“Should I refer to you as nobody from now on?”
“You’re asking me because you don’t want to take a real date.”
He scowled. “I’m asking you because I made an error in judgment two minutes ago.”
“Ha. You’ve gone exclusive, whether by intention or default. It’s the deal liaison, isn’t it?”
Rafe nearly dropped his phone. As a major stakeholder in St. Sebastian Enterprises, Arden had a high-level awareness of the Tradewinds deal, but there was no way she knew about Chelsea. And he wanted to keep it like that for the time being.
“Dad told me you refused to follow his advice and pull out of the deal because you had a thing for the woman assigned to fac
ilitate the sale. He used a bit more French in his version, but—”
“I can only imagine.” He could. All too clearly. So much for the discretion he’d promised Chelsea. He had his father questioning his judgment—nothing new there—and his sister speculating on his love life. “My flight leaves soon. Can we please focus on the matter at hand, Arden. Friday?”
“Will you buy me something pretty to wear?”
A sharp pain stabbed him in the vicinity of his credit card. Arden loved to shop. She could spend hours, and thousands, at a Tijuana flea market or a couture salon on the Champs Elysees. Then again, she was doing him a favor. The least he could do was pay for a dress…shoes…probably an evening bag…jewelry. Christ, he should just write her a blank check. “Yes, dear. Anything your little heart desires, as long as I don’t have to be there when it happens.”
Her laugh bounced over the line, along with a parting shot. “I love her already.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Feb. 12
10:15 a.m.
Chelsea,
We’ve had a run on the glow-in-the-dark condoms. The supplier has them on back-order and says six weeks at the earliest. Do you have an emergency stash?
Thx.
Lynette.
Chelsea typed Lynette directions to the extra supply she’d set aside for just such emergencies. Crisis averted. She climbed out of her car, holding her phone in one hand and the envelope containing the new easement agreement, signed and dated in triplicate by the MILC representative, in the other. Feeling triumphant, she put the envelope safely in her purse and dialed Laurie’s number. When her best friend picked up, Chelsea said, “Hey Babycakes, my bonus is back on track.”
“Woo-hoo!”
Chelsea grinned, held the phone away from her ear and waited for the party on the other end of the line to subside. “Better still, I’ll be in Montenido day after tomorrow.”
“You’re right. That is even better. When do you arrive? We need to celebrate.”
“I arrive at LAX tomorrow evening, but I’ll stay in L.A. the first night to have dinner with the Templetons, get their signatures on the agreements, and also discuss the plan for my transition to Tradewinds Tahiti. Then I drive to Las Ventanas to give Rafe the signature versions of the documents. After that, my contribution is pretty much over, so I’m taking three days off to spend in Montenido.” And three nights with Rafe…maybe her last nights with him. She pushed the thought behind a barricade at the back of her mind. She’d think about that later.
“Let’s get together as soon as you’re in Montenido. There’s something I want to show you.”
“Got your eye on something sexy?”
“Yeah, a sexy storefront for lease along Ocean Avenue, between the surf shop and the pizzeria. What do you think of Babycakes by the Beach?”
She closed her eyes and pictured the space, envisioned it decked out with a mocha, periwinkle, and cream striped awning and a couple of bistro tables. “I love it.” Just saying the words caused tightness in her throat. She wanted to be there for Laurie this time around just like she had with the first Babycakes, helping paint, to pick out supplies, and set up displays.
Good luck doing that from Tahiti.
“I’m still analyzing the feasibility, but, well, I’ve banked some money picking up catering jobs at Las Ventanas. With your buy-in, and a loan, I think it’s within reach. You okay, Chels? Your voice sounds kind of funny.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, and dug around in her purse for a cough drop. “Just shaking off a touch of the flu.”
“That sucks. For some reason I assumed Maui would be a flu-free zone.”
“I’m living proof to the contrary.”
“Poor baby. If you were here, I’d bring some home-baked chocolate chip cookies to make you feel better.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I already feel better, thanks to Rafe.”
“A cookie from Rafe cures the flu? Wow.”
“Not exactly. The doctor and antivirals he brought to my doorstep might have had something to do with it. He was here last week to help resolve the complication we encountered with the sale.”
“The CEO of St. Sebastian Luxury Resorts dropped everything in the middle of one of the most important deals of his career to nurse you back to health?”
He had. Not a single question about the status of the easement had passed his lips. She’d been the one to bring up the topic. Part of her wanted to turn that into something meaningful about his priorities, but the realist in her understood his actions had more to do with common decency. “He’s the one who got me sick. I figure he felt responsible.”
“Are you sure this thing between you two is strictly casual?”
No. “Of course. What makes you even ask?”
“You used the R-word. Responsible. A quick little hookup doesn’t generally leave anyone feeling responsible for anything. That’s the beauty of it. ‘Responsible’ is a serious word, and a serious feeling.”
“Rafe and I are not serious. I’m not looking for anything serious, remember?”
“Yeah, well, things have a way of finding a girl, even when she’s not looking. Especially when she’s not looking,” Laurie said drily. “You might do a little soul-searching and make sure you’re still content with casual. Make sure he is too, while you’re at it. A guy who shows up at your sickbed in the middle of a business crisis sounds to me like a man looking for more than fun, mutual attraction, and entertaining sex.”
“No soul-searching necessary. Look, I enjoy spending time with him. He…he means something to me.” Her heart beat faster as she said the words. “But Rafe and I always had an expiration date. The sale will close soon. We’ll celebrate, wish each other well, and go our separate ways.” An ache completely at odds with her calm assertion spread through her middle. She leaned against the trunk of a palm and sucked in a deep breath.
“Really? You’re cool watching him waltz out of your life in another few days?”
“I guarded my heart, remember? I’ll be fine. I’m perfectly happy on my own.”
“So you say, but I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t point out one thing right now.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t sound perfectly happy.”
Feb. 13
11:25 a.m.
Chelsea,
One of the registration girls told a new guest to stop by the pool for a lei. He misunderstood, and…well…I took the liberty of ordering a sign to remind guests we require swimsuits in the pool area at all times. Enjoy L.A. Everything here is under control.
Lynette
“Is there something wrong with your drink, Miss Wayne?”
The flight attendant’s question pulled Chelsea’s attention away from the article she scrolled through on her phone. She held her coffee cup halfway to her lips. How long had she been sitting like that? Long enough to attract the flight attendant’s attention. Bringing the cup the rest of the way to her lips, she deliberately took a sip. “It’s fine. Thank you.”
The woman smiled and resumed her duties. Chelsea put her cup down on her tray table with extra care, given her hand shook, and dropped her eyes to the tiny screen again. She couldn’t seem to look away. The picture was like her own personal train wreck.
The Montenido Times article covering the grand opening of St. Sebastian’s Las Ventanas resort included half a dozen photos, but her attention homed in on the shot of Rafe planting a kiss on the flawless cheek of a tall, slender, absolutely stunning woman. Yes, she’d zoomed in on the photo to drink in all the details. The dark-haired beauty faced the camera, her smile so wide, playful, and full of affection Chelsea could practically hear the woman’s laughter through the page.
Their bodies fit together as if they’d embraced a thousand times. Rafe’s profile showed his eye crinkled at the corner, the way it did when he smiled for real. Everything about the picture suggested intimacy. Two gorgeous people having the time of their lives. Enjoying fun, attra
ction, and…
Did you expect he’d go alone?
I didn’t expect him to look so freaking happy with someone else in his arms.
You didn’t expect to care.
I don’t care…but who is she?
She hit the button and retreated to her icon screen. A name hardly mattered. Knowing wouldn’t erase the hurt, the bone-deep sense of betrayal.
Her inner cynic insisted she should have seen it coming, her romantic track record being what it was. The only difference this time? She didn’t have the right to feel hurt, or betrayed. Rafe was free to see other people. She’d asked for no promises and he’d made her none. But deep down, she’d wanted to believe he was hers alone—at least until the deal closed. And deeper down, in the steep, slippery part of her heart she’d steadfastly avoided visiting, she’d hoped for even more. One picture shattered the fragile and ridiculously inappropriate hope, but the fragments left her bleeding.
She’d paid lip service to keeping her emotions under control, and keeping things casual, but she’d deluded herself. She could travel thousands of miles to get a fresh start, but she couldn’t outrun the truth. She’d fallen for him—the one thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t do. Worse, her desperate heart already hatched a new plan. What if she passed on Tahiti and stayed on at the Maui resort? Maybe they’d still see each other from time to time? If she gave them a chance, he might decide he wanted more. He might—
Stop. You’re pathetic.
God, she was. She closed her eyes and rested her pounding head against the seatback. What was wrong with her?
The answer still eluded her when she deplaned in Los Angeles. She wheeled her carry-on bag through the terminal, lost in a fog of misery until a tall, dark-suited driver put himself directly in front of her.
“Miss Wayne?”
“Yes?” Now she saw his white rectangular sign bearing her name.
“Hello. I’m Daryl. Mr. St. Sebastian sent me to collect you. He’d like you to join him for dinner.”
Hell, no. She couldn’t see Rafe now. Not with her heart crushed like a grape under his careless heel. Tomorrow, for the meeting at Las Ventanas, she’d pull herself together because she had a job to do, but not tonight. Thankfully the Templetons were taking her to dinner. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have other plans.”
Compromising Her Position Page 17
