by Elyse Riggs
Then I duck down into the water so that only my head is visible above the waves, deciding to play along with her. “You tell me, is she gone? Is the coast clear?”
“Oh, great idea,” she says, ducking down and kneeling in the water next to me. We scan the shoreline together. Under the waves, I reach out for her hand and she interlocks her fingers with mine.
She smiles at me and then looks over the shoreline. I wonder if she’s having a perfect moment too.
“I don’t see her anywhere, looks like she’s gone. Maybe you’re right. Maybe a couple of sick days is just what I need.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kaylee
I splash around in the water with Chase. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.
Not to mention the fact that I am in very real danger of getting lost in those sea-green eyes. And that smile with the dimple, and the washboard abs.
It isn’t worth losing my job over, but with any luck I won’t run into any of the other chefs again while I’m out here living my best life. Even if it is all pretend.
We chefs normally spend all day in our little hats in the hot kitchen. We generally don’t even come out at all except for lunch, missing out on the beautiful sun. Or at least that’s what I thought was the case before I saw some of them out and about today. In any case, that’s of the reasons I want to open my own business.
I’d gladly burn the midnight oil in my own shop in exchange for an hour or two of sunlight and cool ocean waves. Just like the last couple hours with Chase.
I think about seeing Ralph earlier. What was he trying to do? Check the billionaire cabana enclave for his supposedly sick pastry chef? I almost laugh out loud at the thought. No chance in hell of that. But what was he doing walking the beach in the middle of the day? Maybe getting some exercise? Who even cares? I think I’ll call in sick like Chase asked me to. What’s the worst that can happen?
With the coast clear, we head back to our lounge chair for two. Smiling, dripping, and hand in hand.
Seriously, though. I could spend the rest of my life here in this chair with this setup and be perfectly happy. As long as they keep the cold drinks and the fruit coming.
We pad across the beautiful white sand. The concierge practically salutes us when we return. I wonder if that’s how royalty felt back in the old days. Hey, if I’m going to live in a fairy tale world for a few days, I might as well enjoy it.
Back at our lounge chair home base, Chase hands me a towel and I dry off.
“I’m going to take a walk,” I announce to Chase, as I dry off my hair. “Be back soon.”
“Where are you going?” Chase asks.
“Lunch with my friends.”
He opens his mouth to protest me leaving. I make sure he understands that’s a bad idea. “Yes, it’s mandatory. Trust me, you don’t want to have to deal with my friends. And if I miss this lunch, they’ll come looking for me. Believe me, I don’t want them to know any more about this than you do.”
“Why not?” He asks, offended.
“Oh, don’t be a baby about it.”
Luckily, that’s when his burger, beer, and fries show up. “Okay,” he says as he digs in. “Have fun.”
I pull the bathing suit coverup out of my bag and throw a towel across my waist and head out across the sand.
I know now that I have to call in sick for work the next couple of days. It’s just the least complicated option. And the more I think about it, the better I’ll feel when it’s done.
So as I walk toward the Tiki, I make the call. Then I breathe a sigh of relief. At least that’s one less thing for me to worry about.
Chapter Seventeen
Kaylee
The Beaky Tiki is only a third of a mile away. Not a long distance by car, but it’s a decent barefoot beach walk in the heat of the day. And thank goodness for that, I need time to think.
While I was cavorting in the ocean with Chase, I got a series of texts from Angie and Fi wanting to meet for lunch. It’s not unusual. Some days we meet for lunch and some days we meet for dinner, depending on all of our work schedules.
Today for some reason, though, they really, really want to meet right now. And normally I’m more or less free during my lunch break. Although now after calling in sick, I’m a strange combination of both more-free and less-free. It’s turning out to be a much stranger day than I expected.
In any case, it’s perfect timing. I need to hang with the girls and return to reality. Some nice, normal time, that’s what I need.
As I approach the Tiki, something shiny catches my eye. The ring. The engagement ring. It’s right there taking up most of my left hand while at the same time glinting off the sun and blinding everybody around me.
Holy hell, if my friends see this giant rock it’s not going to be pretty. I slip it off my hand and shove it into my coverlet pocket. Whew, that was a close one. The realization hits me that this whole situation could end up being trickier than I thought.
When I get closer to the Tiki, I realize that normal is the last thing I’m going to get. I stop walking and stand there gaping at the scene, my mouth wide open.
First of all, there are huge crowds everywhere. And most of the faces are new. The new faces are mostly male, and they wear super tacky Hawaiian shirts, flip flops, and sun hats. And cameras. For some reason, they all have cameras. What the hell?
Then I remember that the paparazzi throng that Chase’s private security were busy holding back earlier. They came from this general direction. Oh, shit. I freeze in my tracks, feeling like a wildebeest surrounded by a giant herd of hyenas. Or something. Was I going to be spotted and immediately outed by the paparazzi here?
That’s when Fi materializes to my left and grabs my arm before leading me to a table in the back. It’s not our usual table. “Over here, Kaylee. Angie got us a table. Thank goodness. Otherwise we’d be eating in the dirt.”
“What is going on here?” I ask as she leads me through the crowd and around all the other tables to the far corner where Angie waves hello.
“I’m sure you know better than us,” Fi says, scrunching up her eyebrows accusingly at me as I get to our table, pull out a chair and sit down. Angie sits down too.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my tone more defensive than I mean it to be.
That brings on a confused look from Fi. “You work there, right? At the Royal St. Tropic. Apparently, these guys are here to get a glimpse of the fabulous Covington family. Several of them are there right now. That is your resort, right?”
“Oh yes, that. But why are all those paparazzi guys here, here?” I ask and point to the ground beneath my feet. “Here at the Tiki. Our place. It’s so annoying. They couldn’t find some other bar to take over?”
“Yeah, it’s ridiculous,” Angie says, “I practically had to fight some of them to get this table. And it’s so crowded. I figured getting lunch might take a while so I took the liberty of ordering your favorite, Kaylee.”
“Thanks,” I say to Angie as I settle in and scan the crowd, still in shock that my little bar has been taken over by real life paparazzi. Paparazzi, what a weird word that is. I shake my head. This whole fake fiancé thing is going to affect me more than I hoped.
“Oh,” Fi practically shrieks, “I forgot the best part. The reason these idiots are all in a frenzy. Apparently, the Covingtons who are here are single.”
“Yes,” I deadpan, “it’s so exciting.” I feel awful not being honest with my best friends in the whole world, but my head is spinning. And I didn’t ask for any of this.
When I finally snap out of my inner monologue, I realize they are both staring at me, mouths agape like codfish. Did my top fall off or something? I look down to see that my bright red sequined bikini top is right where it’s supposed to be.
Okay, if the stares aren’t because I have a boob hanging out, then what are they about, anyway? “What?”
“You’re wearing the red sequined bikini I gave you two
years ago as a Christmas gag gift,” Fi says, her eyes wide.
“Maybe,” I answer. It’s a stupid answer. Of course I’m wearing it, but for some reason I feel weird admitting it.
“But you’re working today, right?” Angie asks.
“Um, yes?” Another unbelievably stupid answer. Get it together, Kaylee. In my defense, there are a lot of things I’m not sure about right now.
“But you’re covered in sand,” Fi blurts out as she looks me up and down.
Angie picks up the sleuthing thread trying to unravel my secrets. “And your hair is wet.”
“Yep, all that’s true.” Finally, a true and confident answer. I know my friends, and the quickest way to throw them off the scent is to agree with them.
“So that’s what you’re wearing under your chef coat today?” Angie asks, a huge smile on her face.
“Maybe,” I can feel my cheeks heat under their knowing gaze. Am I about to be found out? Do they suspect something about me and Chase and our sordid agreement? How could they possibly know? Was the paparazzi around us blabbing everything to everybody?
“Ah-ha,” Fi says, clapping her hands together like she has solved the mystery.
For the first time today, I’m legit scared. “A-ha what?” I ask her, genuinely curious.
“Kaylee’s got a crush,” Fi surmises.
“Fine,” I answer. Probably too quickly, but I’m just so relived. “You caught me. Happy now?”
Both of them lean into the table so the three of us can have a quiet conversation. Not that anybody around us can hear what we’re saying, the whole place is freaking bedlam today. I steadied myself for the barrage of new questions I know are coming.
“What’s his name? Is he hot? Does he work at the hotel?”
I shake my head. “Look, it’s not like that. Right now it’s nothing more than a crush.” Then I think about it. “It’s not even that, really.”
“So, you’re trying to tell us that this not-a-crush guy got to see the red bikini?” Fi asks. “I’m not buying it. Let’s bring it to a vote. All who believe this story raise your hand.” They stare right at me and don’t raise their hands. I raise mine in defiance.
“You lost,” Fi says with a smile. “But you can keep your secrets. For now. I’m just glad you’re back in the game.” She elbows Angie. “Looks like our little love intervention worked as planned.”
We all zone out for a few minutes and stare at the crowds while waiting for our food. Angie finally breaks the relative silence. “I wonder if these billionaires are hot? Kaylee, forget your kitchen crush, you should use that bikini on one of the Covingtons.”
“Maybe I will,” I say, playing coy and also wondering if giving in to this entire conversation topic might pay off later and help my friends feel less lied to if it all blows up in my face. “I hear they have a sweet tooth.”
They both look at me again, and this time their expressions are more suspicious. Fortunately, I’m ready for it.
“What? You guys are right. I literally work right there where they’re staying. People talk. And besides, I didn’t know anything until I got the daily scoop during the morning update in the kitchen. You guys know how those morning meetings go with Ralph. We got the whole spiel.”
I clear my throat and do my best gravelly, old-man Ralph voice: This exclusive Covington family visit is the cornerstone of our weekend. And by the way, they all have a sweet tooth, Kaylee. Get your ass in gear because you’ll have to crank out more pudding.
Luckily, that performance brings a round of raucous laughter from the table.
“They don’t appreciate you enough, Kaylee,” Fi chimes in.
I notice our drinks have come and I’m thirsty. “I’ll drink to that. To us underappreciated workers of the world.” I hold my glass high and we all clink our glasses before continuing.
Then I look around. “You really think they need this many photographers for a few members of a boring family?”
“For the Covingtons? Yes,” Angie says, leaning forward. “Are you kidding?”
“Boring,” I say. “Those Covington guys are probably old and pasty. Who needs them?”
“No,” Angie says. “Hang on. I found some pics on my phone. One of them’s all right I guess, for a billionaire. But the other one is gorgeous. Look.”
We all stare at Angie’s phone. At pictures of a shirtless Chase, as he works out. On a beach in some exotic location. The pics look recent, although there’s less stubble on his face. The familiar dimple is there as he smirks through a weight rep, and the rippling muscles are unmistakable.
“Oh no,” Angie says, taking her phone back.
“Is he not hot?” Fi asks. “Did you do the search wrong again?”
“I did the search right,” Angie snaps. “And I’m right, he’s super-hot. Only now it says he’s engaged. I swear, just last night it said he was one of the most eligible and hottest bachelors in North America. He’s here for one night and now he’s engaged? No fair. How is that even possible?”
“You’re right,” I jump in eagerly. “It sounds fishy. And he’s not that hot.” Then I realize something. “Hey, with the better-looking billionaire bachelor taken now, do you think the paparazzi will move on and give us some peace and quiet?”
Fi squeals. She’s not paying attention to me, though. She’s looking down at her phone. “It’s a mystery woman. Apparently, he’s been hiding her away only to reveal her this weekend.”
I force a smile but I’m screaming inside. That’s obviously not going to make any of the paparazzi go away at all. It will only intensify the hunt.
“Oh come on,” I say. “A secret fiancé? That sounds like a soap opera.”
“No really,” Fi answers. “It’s right here in this article. And I heard those photographer guys over there talking about it earlier. It’s crazy, but they believe it’s true. Hey, maybe you’ll run into him, Kaylee.”
“Who?” I ask?
Fi giggles. “What do you mean, who? The billionaire bachelor. The hot one. Well, former bachelor. But hey, I’m guessing you could take out that fiancé. My money’s on you any day of the week.”
“I’m good,” I say.
Angie shakes her head. “Oh yeah, you and your rule about tourists. You should lighten up a little.”
If she only knew. For a very brief moment I consider telling them. That train of thought goes off the rails quickly.
I hook up with a tourist, against my number one rule. That’s bad enough. There was supposed to be no names, no complications. It was the perfect plan. But then he turns out to be famous.
Then I make a crazy deal in his bathroom to be his fake fiancé, and now I’m putting my job in jeopardy by calling in sick and pissing off Ralph. All to help him get his company back. And now on top of everything, the paparazzi are after him.
The paparazzi aren’t just after him. They’re after me. I stare for a moment at the crazed group of photographers preparing to swarm. Then I guzzle my drink in one giant sip.
“Are you okay?” Fi asks. She and Angie are staring at me again.
Think, Kaylee. Even better, maybe change the subject away from Covingtons. “Um, crushes and shit. Am I right?”
“You seem a little distracted,” Fi says, a worried look on her face. She exaggerates the word little. “Are you sure you don’t need help with anything?”
I fake my best smile. “Nope. I’m totally good.”
“Okay, then” Fi says. “How about if we help you with the fact that you’re due back at work in six minutes and you still have to change out of that fabulous red bikini? Unless your crush is at work? Because trust me, if that’s the case, then the red bikini is perfect because it will get you any man you want.”
I check my watch. Damn. She’s right. I have to go. Not because of work, though. “You’re right, Fi. Sorry, gotta go.”
I get up and turn to leave. And almost run straight into a sweaty, burly guy with four different cameras hanging around his neck clanking into
each other. That can’t possibly be the right way to carry those.
Then I remember I didn’t pay for lunch. Again. I turn back toward the table, fishing through my pocket where I realize in horror that I forgot my purse back at Chase’s suite and the only thing that is currently in that pocket is a big ass engagement ring. My fingers curl around the huge diamond and my shoulders slump.
My friends stare like I am both insulting and infuriating them. “Go! We’ve got this one.”
Chapter Eighteen
Kaylee
I get back to the lounge chair for two still hot and bothered about lying to my friends. I’m pretty sure they know something is up, but I can’t worry about that now. I have bigger fish to fry.
Before I lay down and relax, I glance around checking for any weird, sweaty, overdressed people with multiple cameras around their necks and see none. Whew. Where are they, anyway? Why come all the way over here hoping to catch a photograph of Chase and his mysterious new, possibly fake fiancé only to hang out at the Beaky Tiki?
Either way it’s good news for me.
“Oh, hey, honey! Glad you’re back.” Chase is lying in his lounge chair watching something on his phone. “Hey, come here, you have to see this replay.” He rewinds the video on his phone and the very attractive European men in colorful red and white jerseys untangle themselves, back up awkwardly and then pause. Then he hits play and sets them all in motion again.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a soccer fan, or football as the experts call it, but it looked like a goal to me. “Yes, that’s great, but listen I have to tell you something.”
His mouth turns down into a pout. “You barely even watched.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a goal, right? Hang on, let me try again. It was a very nice goal. Better? Now can I tell you my news?”
