by Low, JA
Is he flirting with me?
“Are you seriously flirting with my employee right in front of me?” Noah asks.
Ewan looks between us. “Only if she wants me to?” He gives me a wink, which makes me smile and blush all at the same time. The man’s hot but not my type.
“Um…” Not knowing how to answer the question, I haven’t been blatantly hit on in years. I feel my cheeks turning a bright shade of pink as I feel the intense gazes of two men bore into me. “Actually...”
Noah’s phone rings at that precise moment. “I’ll just get that.” Noah excuses himself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. Especially in front of our boss.”
I wave his apology away. “I’m flattered.”
“But… you’re not interested,” he finishes for me.
“I was actually thinking you’d be kind of perfect for my best friend.”
Ewan raises his eyebrows.
Pulling out my cell, I show him a picture of her, and why wouldn’t he be interested in the beautiful brunette. “Ariana is an architect who loves old homes too.”
“She’s beautiful.” Ewan gives me a smile.
“She’s lovely. I think you two would be a better match.”
Ewan chuckles again. “Fine. I’m not leaving brokenhearted. Here’s my number if your friend would like to catch up. She’s more than welcome to give me a call.”
Ewan and I exchange numbers.
We chat more about the property while waiting for Noah to finish his call.
“So, are we done?” Noah steps in behind us, his tone having a slight bite to it.
Whatever happened on that phone call mustn’t have been good?
“Yep, we’re done,” Ewan tells him. “Chloe, it was an absolute pleasure meeting you.” He steps to me and kisses my cheeks. “Noah, as always, great to see ya.” He reaches out and shakes his hand. “I’m off to the bar with the boys. Have a good weekend.” Ewan waves and wanders off into the distance.
“You two seem to hit it off,” Noah states in more of a statement than a question.
“He seems like a great guy.”
“He is,” he replies curtly.
“Are you okay?” I ask while we walk back through the resort.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
Walking back to the car to grab our bags, he doesn’t say anything at all. Then all of a sudden, he blurts out, “Doesn’t seem very professional flirting with the workmen.”
What? His comment stills me. Is he serious?
“You don’t see me commenting on you flirting with all the younger girls in the office or having phone sex in your office where people can hear,” I mouth off while stomping past him.
“Excuse me?” he raises his voice.
“You heard me. The walls between our offices are not as thick as you seem to think they are. Oh, Daphne, you make me hard. So hard. I can’t wait to have those lips on my—”
“That’s enough,” Noah warns, his face now bright red with embarrassment.
Grabbing my bags from the trunk of his car before slamming it shut, he stomps back through the foyer and up the grand staircase. I don’t have time to take it all in as he continues down the long corridor until he reaches the middle. He pushes open the door, and I follow in after him.
Oh wow, the room’s gorgeous. It looks out directly over the ocean with its large bay window, but I don’t have much time to enjoy it as Noah places my bag on the floor and hightails it out of my room.
“Noah,” I call after him which he ignores for a couple of seconds before slowing and eventually turning around. “Did I do something wrong?”
His face softens before he speaks, “No. You did absolutely nothing wrong, Chloe.” I hear the sincerity in his voice, but I’m not convinced.
“Did something happen on the phone call?”
“Yeah. Just a work thing. I’m sorry about before, I shouldn’t have had a go at you about Ewan. It’s none of my business.”
“True. Ewan seems like a great guy.”
“He is. You should give him a chance.”
And that’s when it dawns on me—Noah thinks I’m into Ewan.
Is he jealous? No. As if.
“Yeah, no, he’s not my type. But he’s definitely Ariana’s type.” Confusion laces his face. “I was setting up a date between them.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Does he look relieved?
“They would be a good match,” he agrees. “So, um…” looking a little embarrassed, “… do you want to meet up, in say twenty, and continue looking around?”
“Sure.”
14
Noah
I can’t believe how angry I got thinking Ewan and Chloe were going to hook up. That’s not right, and I shouldn’t have acted like that. Fuck. Maybe Logan’s right, bringing her here was not a good idea.
As soon as I got back to my room, I made a call to our maintenance guy and told him he needs to soundproof my office. The fact that Chloe heard my conversation with Daphne makes me feel like a dick. Daphne’s a flirt and a fantastic phone sex talker when I need something—a release. No, I don’t jerk off in my office, that’s weird, gross, and probably violates so many laws. I took the call in my executive bathroom, which is connected to my office, and finished off in there, just in case someone heard. I shouldn’t be doing that kind of shit at work. At the time, I just needed something, especially because Chloe had come in wearing this tight-fitting pencil skirt that was molded to her amazing curves, and it made me want to bend her over my desk and fuck her.
Those skirts of hers push me to insanity.
I’ve got to stop this—it’s driving me crazy.
Chloe’s off-limits.
I need to remember the warning EJ gave us that he would murder us, and no one would find our bodies because we would be scattered in the Vegas desert. He was pretty serious about that fact too.
I watch as she walks toward me, she’s changed from her office attire and into something more casual—jeans, a white blouse, and some sandals. Her hair is out, and the breeze is blowing it around her face. The sun’s beginning to set behind her—she’s bathed in a golden hue and looking like a damn angel.
Stop it, Noah.
Shaking the impure thoughts from my mind, I mumble to myself, She isn’t yours and will never be yours. Forget her.
“Hey.” She smiles, which lights up her whole face. “What a view.” Pointing her thumb over her shoulder toward the ocean. “You okay?” Chloe asks.
“Sorry, was a million miles away. Running through lists of things to do.”
Chloe chuckles. “I do the same thing. I totally space out thinking about my internal lists, and I don’t realize I’ve been staring at someone for like twenty minutes.” She laughs. “They probably think I’m a weirdo.”
Yeah, let’s go with her explanation. It sounds feasible right now.
“I thought we could go for a walk along the beach. You can see the resort in all its entirety.”
Chloe follows me through the sand dunes and down onto the beach. It’s deserted with not a single soul in sight. We walk in silence, taking in the natural beauty.
“Wow,” Chloe comments as she stops and casts her eyes over the estate.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Making sure I keep my eyes in front, I try not to look at her again.
“Yeah, it is.” Chloe absorbs the picture-perfect vision in front of her.
“How do you think we’re going to be able to market this compared to the more modern resorts?”
That’s it—focus on work, Noah. Good job.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she muses. “We don’t try and compete.” She’s lost me. “I was thinking in the shower earlier…”
Nope don’t do it, Noah.
Do not think of her in the shower, naked and…
“Why don’t we market this as a member’s club.” Sh
aking my lewd thoughts from my mind, I turn to her. “This estate gives me, like an old English gentleman’s club vibe. Cigars on the balcony. Cognac in the library.”
“The home is from that era.”
“Exactly. So, why should we compete with other resorts? The Stone Group is famous for its boutique hotels. Why not make this the first members-only hotel?”
“But why would they pay to be members for only one resort?”
“That’s what I thought. Only one hotel doesn’t seem worth it. Unless…” her face lightening up with excitement, “… it’s a members-only club during the summer.”
Now I’m listening.
“People purchase a membership for the entire summer. They can use it as much or little as they want. We, of course, hope they use it all the time. It could be fully inclusive, making it cheaper than a summer house for the weekends.” Interesting concept so far. “The Hamptons in summer is the place to be. So, why don’t we make our little corner the most exclusive corner of the coast?”
I like the sound of where she’s going with this.
“We offer them summer membership, and it includes parties all weekend long with the hottest men and women, the best DJs, the best food, and the most outrageous drinks. I bet we could even get EJ to do a summer pop up here.”
“You’re a genius.”
She smiles proudly at my compliment.
“Emma knows enough hot people to help us out there, or we could hire hot people for the summer.”
“That’s brilliant. Do you think we could have this ready before opening? Logan wants it all open in eight weeks which is Memorial Day.”
“As long as the resort is ready, then yeah, I think we can do it. I mean most of the marketing has been generic so far because we’ve been waiting on the professional photos.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to Ewan about maybe getting some more rooms mocked-up with the interior designer, so we can get those photos taken.”
We both pull out our cells and start jotting down things on our to-do lists.
“I also know a couple of fantastic event planners, Camryn and Kimberly from Starr & Skye Events Management back in New York. We should get them to help us with the event. They know everyone we need to have here for an opening.”
She nods in agreement. “Perfect. That sounds like a plan.”
* * *
We decided to have dinner in town as the hotel wasn’t equipped yet for us to eat there. As it’s the off-season, not many places are open, so we ended up at a quaint seafood restaurant by the sea. A little romantic place with the candles and music playing in the background and couples sitting around holding hands and gazing lovingly at each other.
And there we are turning up with iPad in hand and spending most of the night on it in between courses. The maître d didn’t look too impressed for most of the evening, but at least the food and wine are excellent.
Off in the distance, a storm’s brewing. I’ve been watching it all night. The lightning illuminated the stormy sea as it rolled in closer and closer.
“We should probably go home, there’s a storm coming,” Chloe points out just as a crack of thunder echoes through the restaurant making everyone jump as the lights flicker.
Looking at the liquor store across the road, I ask, “Should we grab some wine first?”
“Good idea,” Chloe agrees as we quickly dash across the road to purchase a couple bottles of wine before jumping into the car. The wind picks up as we head back to the resort. Leaves scatter across the road, the trees sway from side to side, the black sky lighting up under the brilliance of the strikes in the distance. Looking over, I notice Chloe gripping the seat, her knuckles are white, and her body’s strung tight.
“Are you okay?” Keeping my hands on the steering wheel as the wind batters the car, I look over at her.
“Yes,” she squeaks. Is Chloe afraid of storms?
“Chloe?” I repeat her name.
“I don’t like storms.” The words rush out of her mouth like a tidal wave hits the shore, fast and robust.
“I’ve gathered that.” Chuckling, attempting to lighten the mood, but looking over at her again, she looks petrified. Reaching out, I take her hand in mine, and it’s clammy. Shit. “You’re safe,” I reassure her.
“I know,” she answers on barely a whisper.
My fingers link with hers tighter. “I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” Glancing over at her, her head slowly turns.
“I know you won’t,” she tells me, but the fear on her face is breaking my heart.
We need to hurry and get into the safety of the hotel.
Eventually, we pull into the driveway, which is filled with leaves. I hesitate to let go of her hand as I park. Quickly, I jump out and rush to her side of the car, opening the door as a massive bolt of lightning hits overhead and an almighty crack of thunder echoes around us. Then we’re blanketed in darkness, the lightning strike hitting somewhere close by, cutting our power.
Chloe jumps into my arms. She’s shaking, her face has paled even more.
I grab her hand again. “Come.” Pulling her from the car, I slam the door after her and race inside practically dragging her behind me. As soon as we’re safe inside, Chloe collapses to the floor and starts having a panic attack.
“You’re safe, Chloe,” I say over and over again, but it does nothing to slow down her attack. “Just breathe. Breathe, Chloe.” Wrapping my arms around her as tightly as I can I cradle her on the floor. We stay like that for what feels like hours but must only be minutes. My hand strokes her hair, trying anything I can to calm her from such a severe attack of anxiety. With each flash of lightning, she jumps and shakes even more.
“Chloe, I’m going to move us.” My legs are going numb against the tiled floor. “Wrap yourself around me, and I’ll carry you.” She does as she’s told, wrapping herself around me like a monkey. Slowly, I move through the darkened foyer, with each crack of lightning slowly showing me the path upstairs. One by one, I make my way up the grand staircase and down the corridor to her bedroom.
Thankfully, the door is open, and I walk straight in. You can see the storm raging outside through the large window. I’ll pull the curtains in a minute, once she’s feels safe.
Gently, I place her onto the bed.
“Please don’t leave me.” Her words break me.
“I won’t,” I tell her. “I’ll be right beside you.”
She nods and unwraps herself from me, pulling the bedcover out as she jumps in underneath it. I move around the bed and slide in beside her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, her head resting against my chest. Every so often, I find myself pressing a kiss to her head as if it’s second nature and I have the right to.
“Would you like me to pull the curtains?”
“No. I want to watch it, so I know what’s happening.”
I nod my head and go back to merely holding her.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t had an attack like this in long while,” she confesses. “I don’t know what’s triggered it.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I never wanted you to see me like this,” she confesses.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” I tell her.
Looking up at me, tears glisten in her eyes. “I never wanted you to see me any other way than as a strong woman.”
“Chloe.” My hand caresses her face. “You are a strong woman. Letting me help you makes you a strong woman.” A single tear falls down her cheek. Leaning forward, I press my lips against the salty tear and hope that some of my strength can absorb her fear.
“My parents died in a storm like this,” she tells me. “One of Dad’s clients invited him out on his private plane. He was flying them to Vegas for the night.” Chloe’s body tenses as she continues the story. “I remember arguing with them because I wanted to go. I’d never been to Vegas, and I wanted to go desperately. I was a senior in high school, and I thought I was old enough. They promised me they w
ould take me for graduation, but they had a meeting with a client. I had a temper tantrum over it and refused to say goodbye to them.”
Chloe’s voice hitches. “They told me they loved me, then they both kissed me goodbye, even though I was being a brat. That was the last time I saw them.” She breaks down in my arms, sobbing.
My heart breaks for her because I know how she feels. My father tried to call me before he passed away, and I let it go to voicemail. He left a message telling me how much he loved me and how proud he was of me. I played the what-if game for years after, wondering if I’d just taken his phone call, could I have stopped him from taking his life. Could I have talked him down from what he had planned?
I stroke Chloe’s hair until there are no tears left and she’s so exhausted from crying that she eventually falls asleep in my arms.
I’m not going to lie, having her here with me like this feels good. It feels right.
Gently, I place a kiss on her forehead and sink us both down into bed, pulling her tight against me as I close my eyes.
15
Chloe
The bright sun is streaking through the window as I slowly open my puffy eyes. My mini-breakdown coming back to me like a sucker punch to the stomach. It’s been years since I had a breakdown over a storm. Shit.
Quickly, sitting up on my bed, I remember falling asleep in Noah’s arms last night.
“Morning,” Noah’s deep voice surprises me.
Turning, I see his smiling face.
“You look a little freaked out. Nothing happened.”
Feeling slightly relieved, but a small portion of me is quite disappointed, I start to apologize, “About last night—”
But Noah stops me. “Chloe.” His voice is stern. “I’m glad I was here to help.”
Sitting up on the bed beside me, thankfully he’s fully clothed.
“Thank you,” I state feeling awfully sheepish. How does he look so good first thing in the morning? “I should go have a shower, I probably look like shit.” Jumping out of bed, I head for the bathroom.
