Hotter Than The Caribbean (Building Love Book 2)

by Stacy Hoff

  Drawings, plans, and notes were strewn about the carpeted floor. Mel tossed them inside a large canvas bag. Her goal was to stand in the lobby again, this time before anyone else arrived. The solitude would help her connect to the area she’d be working on.

  Sweats were shoved on hastily. Her feet jammed into flip-flops. Her hair gathered into an elastic band to create a haphazard ponytail. Hope of using cosmetics abandoned, she ran out of her room and into the hallway, pushing the elevator button several times in quick succession.

  The elevator’s doors opened to an empty lobby. Nary a soul was on site. People-wise, anyway. The sun had woken the animals. The sound of crickets gave way to birdcalls, some subtle and others trilling.

  Mel walked over to the portion of the lobby that would become the main patio. She dropped her bag and unfurled the plans. Powerful sunlight made her eyes strain and water. Oddly, the design plans were less impressive here than back home. The layout was the same but seeing the resort’s grounds in person had more of an impact than she could have imagined.

  The tone of the interior design that her parents and sister had chosen was upscale, reserved, and polished. Suitable for high-profile wives flying in from the States. A different portion of the space was dedicated to husbands seeking to amuse themselves with golf outings while their spouses enjoyed the spa. The ‘man space’ would also be an inviting area for businessmen attending any Condado-based convention who wanted to unwind at night with liquor or a cigar.

  The design concept her family had planned seemed fine for the type of customer proposed. Frankly, it had been whipped together quickly at the architect’s request, since the last interior design firm had walked off the job without warning. Considering the tight timeframe foisted onto Merritt Designs, Inc., the concept was well done. It helped that the building’s structure had good bones and contained many features décor could easily enhance.

  Her family wasn’t told why another firm had abandoned this plum assignment. Denny speculated the walk-off had been caused either by a fight with the architect, or with the Serranos themselves. Her parents, however, simply assumed the previous firm had left because they had been in over their heads. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t a fate Mel wanted her family to suffer. Certainly not because of her almost romantic rendezvous last night.

  Since Mel was going to limit any future conversations with Luis, she’d be left wondering forever why the first firm failed. It certainly wouldn’t surprise her if Luis himself had started the discord. She wasn’t about to ask the architect for confirmation. Gossiping was unprofessional. Curiosity aside, the reason didn’t really matter anyway. Whatever had happened with them was not her concern. Figuring out how to get the project done was the only thing that mattered now. Good luck to me.

  It would be easy enough to follow through with the existing plans. In fact, it would be better if she did. Doing so would free up enough of her time and energy to get her own important business done. It would also prevent a fight with her family, who would almost certainly object. Not only would they balk at any last-minute changes, they always hated her ideas. Worse, it would be her sister’s problem to finish up an altered job as soon as Mel flew back. Her sister would be left trying to shove new puzzle pieces into a different game board. Instead of the project being seamlessly delivered, it would be pieced together like Frankenstein’s monster.

  The paper plans were too large to hold, even with both hands. She bent down on the floor to spread them out, resting her butt on the back of her heels. Design ideas swirled around in her mind. There was enormous opportunity in the vast open space.

  “Can I help you?” asked a Spanish-accented male voice.

  Mel’s head snapped around to identify the speaker. The man standing in front of her was not one she had met before, yet knew anyway. His salt-and-pepper hair and mustache framed a pleasant, well-formed face. The man was most likely in his late forties, early fifties, and appeared to be in great physical shape. Despite the early hour, he was dressed professionally in a light gray linen suit. “Hello. I’m Mel Merritt, from Merritt Designs, Inc. You must be Alonso Aguilar, the architect, aren’t you?”

  “Sí, Señorita Merritt. It’s good you arrived. I was hoping to catch up with you.” The man smiled. “Although I didn’t think it would be at this early hour of the morning.”

  “Are you sure? From the suit you’re wearing you seem mighty prepared,” she teased.

  The man extended his hand to Mel. “I’m always prepared for business. Morning, noon, and night.”

  “Thank you,” she said as he helped her up off the floor. “Sorry I’m not dressed professionally, Mr. Aguilar. I didn’t think anybody would be down here at this ungodly hour. I wanted to arrive as early as possible to be alone with the open space.” She dusted off her sweats as best she could.

  “Please, call me Alonso. Do not worry about your appearance. I am happy you are eager to work.”

  “Thanks for recommending my family’s firm.”

  “Glad to do it. I’m sure you’ll prove to be as good as your reputation. I should mention though, I did expect the job to be handled by Denny Merritt.”

  “My sister. She’ll be here as soon as her broken leg heals enough to allow travel. In the interim I’m going to get the design work started.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about her condition. When will she be able to arrive?”

  “Hopefully no later than a week from now. Since my company wants to get this job done on time, we thought it best for me to jump in.”

  “Very appreciated. Let’s find time to discuss the design work. Today, if possible.”

  Mel nodded. “Yes, of course. The sooner we get everything underway, the better,” she agreed, although for an entirely different reason.

  “How about noon? Does that work for you? We can grab something to eat while getting each other up to speed.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you. The last firm put us far enough behind that Mr. Serrano is having doubts as to whether this project will be done in a timely manner.”

  “I do, indeed,” said a deeper, masculine voice. Alonso and Mel turned to see Luis give them a long, assessing look. His demeanor cooler than the early morning air.

  Mel felt a sharp sting when she bit her lower lip. Her hand involuntarily flew to smooth her hair.

  “We will do our best, Señor Serrano,” Alonso replied formally.

  Luis gave a stiff nod and walked away, leaving Mel temporally speechless. “Is he always like that?” she whispered once the saliva returned to her mouth.

  “He is a good man. There is tremendous pressure on him. With this project, and his family, too.”

  Mel almost blurted out that the pressure Luis had from his family could not compare to the pressure she had from hers. Complaining, however, would be unprofessional. Especially about the members of her own family’s firm. This was business after all, not friendship. Getting too close to people on this job, and then being forced to work with them, was not a good idea. In fact, it was a very bad idea. It would have been great to have learned this lesson before last night, when she eagerly agreed to sleep with the client.

  Mel smiled blandly at Alonso and changed the topic back to what mattered. “I’ll do everything I can to make the project a success. I’ll see you at noon, Alonso. It was good to meet you, even unexpectedly.”

  Alonso turned to take his leave. “Hasta luego, Señorita Merritt.”

  Mel bent down to pick up the plans and tossed them into her oversized canvas bag. First, she’d get herself cleaned up. She only had a few hours before pitching new ideas to Alonso. That was, assuming she were brave enough to do it.

  The next task required even more bravery–contacting the gallery about selling her artwork. If there was one thing that the fiasco with Luis had proved to her, it was that she had to get
finished with this lobby project. A.S.A.P.

  Chapter 10

  Luis caught a reflection of his face in the office window. His expression was stony. It could blend in with any one of El Yunke’s rocky waterfalls. The frown he wore etched deeply enough to be a carving. Mel and Alonso’s happy chatter this morning was a knife to his gut. The pang of jealousy surprisingly intense. As much as he wanted to attribute his displeasure to the building delay Alonso alluded to, Luis suspected the reason was different.

  Mel had looked at Luis last night with the same bright, eager expression. Her happy face was now reserved exclusively for Alonso. Luis was the recipient of a face full of hurt and disappointment. There was something else too, something intangible in her reaction that bothered him. Embarrassment? Awkwardness? If so, he could hardly blame her. Unfortunately, explaining why he had to abruptly end their evening was impossible. See? This is why mixing business and pleasure is always a huge failure. Now how am I going to work with her?

  His agitation over the situation lingered, along with the notion he wasn’t merely disgusted by the business aspect. He was disgusted with himself, too. His father was still calling the shots, despite being stricken with life-threatening cancer. His brother was still trying to one up him. Maneuvering around both his father and brother was exhausting, especially in this pressure-cooker of a situation.

  It was odd that during the brief time he spent with Mel he stopped thinking about his problems. It was clear he wouldn’t get that little sliver of emotional relief again, given her cold reaction this morning. And the fault was his, a fact which twisted the knife in deeper. Alonso can deal with her. I don’t need to worry about her, or about anything else.

  Turning his attention back to work was not easy. The entire day was spent beating problems down at non-stop speed. A relentless game of whack-a-mole. Staff complaints. Bickering office members. Materials arriving late. More messages from his brother.

  Coping with all of this was giving him the mother of all headaches. He pressed his hands against his temple in a fruitless effort for relief. After popping three Extra-Strength Excedrin, he forced his way through each issue with the slow, steady precision of a captain guiding an oversized ship through a narrow port-of-call. The morning passed in a blur. It was almost two-thirty in the afternoon before a few moments of calm gave him the chance to breathe.

  A young man, one of his father’s new hires, approached him. “Perhaps you would like to have lunch prepared for you, Señor Serrano?”

  Luis nodded in agreement while trying to remember the young man’s name. “Yes, I’ll take it downstairs on the patio. Thank you . . .”

  “Enrique,” the young man replied before scurrying off.

  Luis took the elevator down and strolled outside to the patio area to wait. If Enrique hadn’t suggested the meal Luis probably wouldn’t have remembered to eat. The upside of his crazy schedule—it didn’t matter that his gym membership lapsed. Not eating meant not gaining weight. Of course, if the hiatus from exercise was too long his muscles would turn to flab. Good thing this project couldn’t possibly last forever. It would only feel that way.

  About to sit down at one of the few tables and chairs, he realized he was overhearing a conversation. At least he thought it was a conversation. Two people were laughing together, perhaps enjoying a joke. He wished he were in a laughing mood. It should make him feel better to know that some people were having a good time. It didn’t.

  His ears focused on the voices. Alonso and . . . The second voice became clear moments later. Mel. The meeting between his designer and architect obviously had gone overtime. Normally it would be a good sign, an indicator that progress was being made. Not this time. How could any work possibly be done when those two seemed content to goof off? Or cozy up? Luis felt his stomach clench. With his left leg twitching, he walked over to kill off their comradery. The sound of Mel’s voice stopped him.

  “It’s been great getting to know you, Alonso.”

  “Your ideas for the lobby design sound excellent. Let’s talk later when you’ve put them down on paper. We can review them together when you’re done. How much time do you think you need?”

  “It’s hard to say. I can sketch some ideas out quickly. If you like them, I’ll make formal changes using CAD.”

  “Should we set up some time to talk tonight?”

  Luis strained to hear the rest. Was her voice sounding sultry? Was there a spark between the two of them? He brushed the idea off. I’m acting crazy. They are talking about business. It’s good they’re getting along well. The resort will be better off for it.

  Then a thought occurred to him. What had started out as a business conversation could end up being something else altogether. Visions of the night before swirled in his head, his desire to talk business yielding to a completely different desire. A desire as fiery as the woman herself.

  Last night, Mel’s beautiful blue eyes seemed to hide something. And yet her smoldering gaze hid nothing. Whatever her secret was, it didn’t diminish the fact she was the embodiment of a red, hot flame.

  The architect’s voice managed to seep into Luis’s thoughts. Alonso’s tone had grown softer, edgier, eager . . . “What about tonight, Mel? Can we meet?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t, Alonso. I have another engagement that I cannot break.”

  At least Mel didn’t sound too interested in Alonso, since she was turning him down. Good, because having them hook up would be more than the building project, and his ego, could stand. Begrudgingly, Luis conceded that Alonso was in decent physical shape. As far as older men went, anyway. Still, to have Mel interested in an older man would be a punch in the gut. Wait a minute, I ditched her. Damn it!

  It sounded like Mel had plans for tonight with a third potential suitor. Who? Could any more men possibly pop up during her brief time on the island? Feeling bitter, Luis made a rough calculation. Three men a day, for a period of roughly a week, would mean somewhere around twenty-one different suitors for Luis to compete with.

  How many men was this woman going to tease and torment? He was going to find out. He would confront her. Let her know that her mind needed to be focused on his business. His family was paying her firm overtime to get this project done as soon as possible. Damned if he wasn’t going to hold her feet to the fire.

  He tried to block out a nastier thought. That the other man—or men—whoever they were, would also have their feet held to the fire. In fact, he would skewer them alive. They have a hell of a lot of nerve to take away my woman—no, worker. God, what’s wrong with me? Why must I always feel like I’m competing? That I need to prove I am worthy of being loved? The uncomfortable epiphany made him unusually quiet.

  The day dragged on with more obstacles. He embraced the business barriers. Focusing clearly, as if his family was not involved. The woman he couldn’t quite put out of his mind was successfully being shoved toward the back of his brain.

  Around four o’clock, he got up to leave. Almost at his office door’s threshold, a text from an unknown number pinged. The message flashed across the screen. ‘Your new interior designer is playing you for a fool.’

  Luis’s brow furrowed. What the hell? Who sent this? Is this about my hiring Merritt Designs, or about my personal involvement with Mel? He narrowed his eyes as he studied the phone number. Nothing in his contacts matched. He scrawled the digits down on a piece of paper to have his security staff do a reverse look-up. Whoever sent the message had some explaining to do. Since they didn’t identify themselves, the person was probably out to do more harm than help. There was little doubt that one of his brother’s minions was the sender. Once he proved this fact, he and his brother were going to have a short, pointed conversation.

  A part of him wondered whether there was any truth to the message. Who was Mel, really? From what he had overheard of her conversation with Alonso, she had
alluded to going off to some meeting that sounded, frankly, suspicious. Was she hooking up with another guy, or another job? Given her involvement with him, no matter how brief, the concern was as much personal as it was professional. Yet finances, not feelings, had to come first.

  He made up his mind to follow her. He wanted to deny the allegation that Mel really was playing him for a fool. Caution, however, dictated that he find out for sure. He could get his security personnel to follow her. Yet he needed to see the proof with his own eyes.

  Chapter 11

  Mel searched her room for her black, kitten-heel shoes. It was already four o’clock in the afternoon. If she didn’t leave soon her destination would be closed. It had been difficult to finish the discussion with Alonso, and then complete more drafting, on time. Tough, but doable. Hand-sketched designs littered her hotel room like oversized confetti. Her last attempt was a winner. That one would be done on CAD. Whether the shot of inspiration hit randomly, or out of a necessity to get her own personal work done, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. Victory meant getting her ideas done on time, no matter the means.

  The meeting with Alonso had gone well. He had encouraged her to branch out from her family’s design concept. The spirit of the original design was still there, although her concept was edgier. The optimism she felt for her own interior design work was elating, and completely unfamiliar. Hopefully her meeting with the art gallery this afternoon would result in the same positivity, giving her the creative confidence she craved.

  Shoving everything she needed into an oversized black portfolio, she bolted out of the room. One short elevator ride later she was almost out the hotel’s main door when a tall woman with long blond hair stopped her. There was no denying the woman’s beauty, despite the liberal application of purple eye shadow. The blonde was close in age although not in attitude. A scowl marred her otherwise flawless face.