Paradise in Progress

10. Chapter Ten

Chapter ten

Tristan

The last forty-eight hours have been an absolute whirlwind. One minute, I was sitting at my parents’ dining room table, enjoying a delicious spread my mom and sister spent hours preparing, and the next, my phone was blowing up with problem after problem on our St. Lucia project. Dad glared at me from across the table as if these issues were my fault.

Too bad for him, I filed all the paperwork correctly, and the zoning committee decided they had more issues than they previously let on. It’s almost as if they want us to fail with this remodel.

I certainly don’t want this project to fail. Not for my sake and certainly not for Kennedy’s. For the past nine months, the two of us have worked diligently to make sure everything runs smoothly—well, as smoothly as possible when you’re dealing with a renovation two thousand miles away.

I dreaded making the call to Kennedy while she was home with her family. She was so excited to finally be able to see everyone and, unlike what she might think, I didn’t want to rain on her parade. These situations are not ideal for anyone, and based on the new timeline, she won’t be going home for Christmas either. The two of us will be having Christmas on the island .

But it’s fine. Or at least it will be.

Bringing the ceramic mug to my lips, I take a sip of the rich, dark roast coffee and find Kennedy curled up on the couch opposite me. She looks exhausted, but still gorgeous in her matching slate gray waffle loungewear set. When she climbed the steps to board the jet, I noticed the dark circles she tried to hide under her eyes. And after much convincing, I talked her into lying on the couch for a few more hours of sleep. She refused to go to the back of the jet and sleep in the private bed, but I’ll take the couch as a win. The flight to St. Lucia will be around five hours, so she might as well make the most of it.

As we approach the island, there’s a small bout of turbulence that has Kennedy jumping out of her skin. She quickly hops into the captain’s chair across from me, fastening her seatbelt in record time.

Practically trembling, she squeezes her eyes shut. Her fingernails are going to leave half-moons in the leather from the death grip she has on the armrests. Reaching across the aisle, I place my palm on her thigh, unintentionally startling her, and her eyes bug out at the contact.

“We’re okay, Firecracker.”

Her eyes squeeze shut, and her head shakes, telling me she doesn’t believe a word. Flying has never bothered me. Sure, the idea of plummeting to the ground thirty-thousand feet in the air is terrifying, but I’ve never given it much thought. I figure I have a better chance of getting hit by a cab in the city than crashing in a plane.

Clearly, Kennedy doesn’t have that same mindset.

Without much thought, I’m unfastening my seatbelt and reaching for hers.

“What the hell are you doing, Tristan?” she hisses, her eyes wide and wild as pure panic takes over .

I don’t answer. Instead, I unclip her belt and reach underneath her knees. Pulling her toward me as she panics, I carry her back to my seat, where I stretch the belt across both of our laps. Without hesitation, she curls into me, burying her face in my neck.

The movement causes growing farther south as she sits on my lap. I cannot have that kind of reaction to her, especially not right now, while she’s in the midst of a panic attack.

Gritting my teeth, I try to think of anything else. Maybe I should think about us plummeting to the ground—that will no doubt cure any arousal. But then her nose nuzzles into my neck, and I fight the groan that wants to escape. It’s been forever since I had a girl this close to me.

“You smell good.”

A soft chuckle leaves my lips. “Thank you.”

“That was supposed to be an inside thought.”

“Of course, Firecracker. We can’t have you giving me compliments.” We hit another rough patch, and her fist tightens against my dress shirt as I pull her in tighter. “I’ve got you, Ken.”

“I don’t want to die in a fiery crash with you.” Her words are mumbled against my skin, but I hear every one.

Trying to soothe her, I rub small circles on the inside of her thigh as I look for any way to keep her mind preoccupied. “God forbid you spend all of eternity with me.”

“Exactly. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

A few minutes later, the pilot comes across the speaker, letting us know that we should be clear of the turbulence as we make our descent into St. Lucia. Kennedy’s head pops up from my shoulder and our eyes meet. There’s something in her gaze I can’t quite figure out. Is she relieved? Thankful for the distraction? Before I have a chance to analyze her more, her fingers work the clasp of the safety belt.

As quickly as I pulled her onto my lap, she’s up and taking her place across from me as she snaps her belt into place.

“Are you feeling better?”

With a deep exhale, her eyes find mine again. A tight-lipped smile lines her pale pink lips, and she gives me a small nod as she fidgets with her pants. “I will be once we get wheels on the ground.”

“I never pegged you as afraid of flying. I figured you’d be used to it since you live two states away from your family.”

“I don’t make it home that often. Between college and then work, my trips home got few and far between. Plus, I’m from the Midwest. We drive everywhere.”

“I never understood that.”

“It’s because you have money, Golden Boy. Not all of us have the luxury of dropping a couple of thousand dollars on flights to go on vacation. If we wanted to go somewhere, we’d load up the minivan and drive to wherever we were going. Not like we went on many vacations.”

There’s a drop we feel in our stomachs, causing Kennedy to grip the armrest again as we start to land.

One skid.

Two skids.

And our wheels are on the ground.

I can hear her audible sigh as relief floods her system.

“We made it,” she whispers.

Thirty minutes later, Kennedy and I are in the back seat of a black town car as we make the long drive to the resort from the airport. I’m trying to read over files and emails as we go around hills and curves, making my focus a challenge. Kennedy has all but given up. She popped motion sickness medicine as soon as we landed. Her head has been on a swivel as we drive through various terrains of small towns and mountains.

She slides across her seat to the middle seat, our legs brushing, which she doesn’t acknowledge as she leans forward and points out the window. “Sir, can you stop up there?” she asks our driver.

His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror, and he nods. I try to get a better look at what has caught her eyes when I spot a small wooden building with a red roof. Open-sided patios line the space with picnic tables underneath. It’s a quaint local bar.

Our driver puts the car in park, and before he has a chance to shut off the ignition, Kennedy is jumping out of the backseat. I’m immediately opening my door and stepping out after her. The air is thick with humidity, and I feel the moisture gripping my dress shirt. With a glance over her shoulder, she winks before she’s strutting inside the bar.

The inside is much like what you’d find inside an American bar. Pub tables litter the space, with beer logos and novelty signs on the walls. A dark-stained bar takes up most of one side, with fridges of bottled beers and an older, dark-skinned woman stands behind it, her long black hair braided and piled on top of her head.

“Good afternoon.” A kind smile plasters across her face as she welcomes Kennedy into her bar.

“Hi,” Kennedy greets, climbing onto a bar stool across from the woman. “I’m Kennedy. ”

“Nice to meet you, Kennedy. I’m Elysha. Welcome to my little slice of paradise.”

“You have a lovely bar.” I’m stuck, my feet barely inside the bar as the two women interact. Kennedy is all smiles with the stranger. A sudden pang of jealousy hits me as I observe the two, noting Kennedy has never given me the same warmth as she’s giving this woman.

I want to change that. For the next month, I want to show her I’m not the enemy. I never wanted us to feel like we were constantly competing. There’s more to me than this preconceived notion she’s painted me with. Yes, I was born with a silver spoon, but it hasn’t always been easy.

“Hey, Golden Boy.” Her voice cuts off my thoughts. “Come meet Elysha and order something to drink. Lighten up a little bit.”

Pointing to myself, I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Me, lighten up? You’re the one wound so tight.”

Her eyes roll as she turns her attention back to the woman. “See what I have to deal with. What’s your local beer?”

“You must try a Piton. It’s a pilsner lager beer that has a floral and hoppy aroma.”

“Sounds perfect.” Her smile is contagious as I make my way toward the woman. “Golden boy will have one too.”

Elysha turns to the coolers and pulls out two bottles. The golden liquid shines through the glass bottle. “What brings you two to the island?”

The bottles are placed in front of us, condensation immediately surrounding the glass. Kennedy’s smile drops a fraction. “We work for Nelson Signature. ”

Elysha’s eyes widen and her demeanor immediately changes. “You sly, girl.”

“Please, let me explain,” Kennedy says, her hands going up in defense. Elysha’s eyebrow raises, as if permitting Kennedy to keep going. “I’m a small-town girl. I grew up in a tiny town in Ohio and, believe me, I understand what big corporations can do to small businesses. But let me just say, I’ve done hours and hours of research on how the previous resort owners hurt local businesses. I’ve implemented policies to make sure that doesn’t happen again. Nelson Signature doesn’t want to hurt locals. In fact, we want to work with local businesses.”

Elysha tsks. “That’s what you all say. You get us to trust you, and then, bam, you find a way to screw us over.”

“What if I told you that Nelson’s wants to find a local bar where buses of tourists can stop on their way to the resort? The driver of the buses will be in charge of paying for the guests' drinks while giving you a twenty-five percent gratuity.”

Her eyes widen, and I take a pull of the beer as Kennedy works her magic.

“We’d love to offer your bar the opportunity to work with us.”

A door opening has us all turning to see who’s entering. Our driver, Jayden, walks inside.

“Jayden!” Elysha exclaims. I turn to watch the woman take in the young man. “They have you working for them?”

He nods. “It’s completely different than the last owners. They actually care about their employees. We’ve been doing extensive training for months to help us grow and feel more comfortable with our jobs.”

“Do I have to decide today? ”

“Absolutely not.” Kennedy reaches inside her purse for an envelope. “Inside is the proposal, along with my direct business card. Feel free to call or email me anytime with any questions you may have. You really do have a lovely bar. I saw it as we were driving and asked Jayden to stop.”

Elysha’s gaze finds Jayden’s, and he nods in agreement, assuring her Kennedy is telling the truth.

“Thank you. I’ve put years of hard work into this place. It’s more than just a business; it’s an extension of my home.”

Another smile brightens Kennedy’s face. Reaching into her cooler, Elysha slides two more bottles our way. “On the house.”

Grabbing the bottles, I thank the nice woman who has shared a part of her story with us. Kennedy shakes Elysha’s hand and reassures her that we aren’t the enemy on the island and that the company is doing everything it can to make sure the locals feel the support.

I replay the interaction the rest of the way to the resort as I nurse my beers and take in the sights. Jayden gives us a history lesson as he drives us through the mountainside, pointing out things in nature and historical markers. He even pulls over on the side of the road to point out a few celebrities' houses.

Turning through the large wrought-iron gates, I hear a gasp to my left.

“Oh my gosh.” Kennedy’s voice is laced with awe as she admires the changes to the resort.

Much like Kennedy, I’m immediately impressed with the remodel. Long gone are the dark stone colors, but in its place are soft beige stucco and neutral travertine tiles. The teakwood accents give the space an inviting feel .

“How’s it feel to see your designs in person?”

Her hand covers her mouth as she stares at the large building ahead of us. “It’s surreal.”

Jayden shifts the car into park before getting out and opening Kennedy’s door first. She steps outside in wonder as I open my door, not waiting on Jayden. Reaching into my wallet, I pull out a large bill and slip it into Jayden’s palm as I shake his hand. “Thank you for driving us and for the history lesson. You really do know your facts on the island.”

He nods. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity to work for your company. I’ll bring yours and Miss Reed’s bags into the lobby.”

Speaking of Kennedy, she’s no longer standing by the door. Instead, I catch a glimpse of her copper locks as she walks up the footpath. The warm, salty air mixes with the slight breeze as it swirls around us. With a hand in my pocket, I erase the space between us as we enter the lobby. A construction site greets us, as the entryway is still in the process of being switched to match the plans.

The exterior was the first phase, and now the construction team is busy making all the changes in the interior. We are approaching the eleventh month of the remodel, and the hope is to have the main location open in the next two months.

“Mr. Nelson.” A petite woman comes scurrying across the tiled floor, causing me to pause and wait for her. She stands in front of me, reaching her hand out for me to shake, which I accept. “I’m Destiny, the general manager.”

“It’s great to meet you, Destiny. Please call me Tristan. And this is…” I turn, wanting to introduce Destiny to Kennedy. On ly, she’s gone. “I’m sorry, I was going to introduce you to our lead architect here with me, but I’m not sure where she’s gone.”

“No problem, sir. I’ll let you take in everything, and then I’ll show you both to your room.” Destiny smiles and turns on her heels before I have a chance to correct her by encouraging her to call me Tristan. While I am a Nelson, I hate being referred to as sir or Mr. Nelson. It feels weird, and I can’t explain why.

Glancing around the space, I don’t see any trace of the woman I’m stuck on an island with for the next month or longer. I take in the view as I make my way toward the back of the lobby. It opens up to a patio off to the side, where lounge chairs and fire pits reside. Down below is a view that encompasses the entire backside of the property, where cabanas and lounge chairs surround the main pool.

Past the tower, which overlooks the pool, are palm trees swaying in the wind and the gorgeous ocean view, with white sand beaches and turquoise water. Scanning over the sand, a flash of red catches my attention. Standing with her toes where the water meets the sand is Kennedy.

How the hell did she make it down there so fast?

Moving through the lobby, I trot down the stairs and follow the tiled path past the expansive pool to where the walkway meets the sand.

I slip out of my dress shoes and thumb off my socks before stepping off the walkway. Instantly, I feel the soft, grainy sand as it moves around my toes. It’s hot in the island sun, but after weeks of cold weather in New York, I welcome the searing heat on the bottoms of my feet. Kennedy hasn’t seen me, or if she has, she isn’t making my presence known. I watch her as she stares ahead at the passing boats. There’s a grin on her lips as the water slides over her toes.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, keeping her eyes ahead.

“It is.” And I’m sure the ocean is, but what’s more beautiful is the woman standing in front of me as I watch a few tears slide down her cheeks. She brushes them away before sheepishly turning to look over her shoulder. Her cheeks heat, and I hope she realizes I wasn’t talking about the water but the woman I can’t keep out of my head.

I follow her gaze to where she’s watching her feet disappear in the receding sand. “I’ve never seen the ocean before.”

My head whips in her direction. “Never?”

“Never,” she admits quietly as she shakes her head. “Dad worked hard, but we could never get away to go on a beach vacation. The closest we got was Lake Michigan for a long weekend. But this is nothing like the lake.”

Words fail me. Growing up, we spent every weekend in the summer in the Hamptons, where my grandparents had a house. It wasn’t uncommon for my mom to pack us all up and take us there for a week at a time during the long hot stretches in August.

Unsure of what to say, I change the subject. “Whenever you’re ready, Destiny, the general manager, is going to show us our rooms.”

She nods before walking back in the direction we came without another word.

I’m stuck in the sand as the flip switches from her moment of vulnerability to the Kennedy I’ve grown accustomed to.

One of these days, I’m going to break down the damn wall she’s so desperate to keep impenetrable.

And when I do, she’s going to see the real me.