15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Aaron
Thankfully, since I packed for the weekend, there’s not much for me to pack to head to the beach house. I haven’t been to the place in years, not since I moved from Seattle to LA.
The place is probably still stocked with clothes in my closet, which I’ll have to go through anyway, so if it really comes down to it, I can pick up some new digs in town. And of course, if there’s anything Prince Charming might need.
I’m still flabbergasted that he said yes. Part of me didn’t think he would, given his apprehension at the cafe, but I’m glad he did. Not just because I’m paying him, but…
Maybe I’m a little excited to spend a week with a gorgeous man on the beach.
Some treasures in life are the simplest ones you take for granted, and though I could easily find some gold-digging asshole who wouldn’t bat an eye at spending a week in my company, there’s something about Jacob that just feels different. Authentic, even.
And it has nothing to do with him being a professional.
“You owe me,” Marta, my properties manager bites out on the phone as I load my rolling suitcase into the trunk of my BMW.
“I know, and you have no idea how much I appreciate you,” I say, laying the praise on thick, because it’s true.
Marta is a saint. Seriously, I’m not sure the AirBNB’s would run as smoothly without her finessing the bookings and making sure everyone has everything they need, especially when I’m off dealing with other things.
Family things. Like a last-minute trip to the beach house to impress my family.
“I’ll buy you a nice cake,” I joke and I can practically hear Marta rolling her eyes through the phone.
“Mhmm. Better make it a Cartier,” she taunts me, and I chuckle. Her humor is definitely a bonus, and her resilience to put up with me and my insanity make her quite a valuable employee.
“You got it, sweetheart,” I say, knowing realistically if she were to actually follow up on such a claim, I’d buy her whatever she wanted and call it a bonus.
I have six employees, including Marta, that help run my properties, and each one of them gets quarterly bonuses.
Usually in the form of a check, but I’m not opposed to giving them something solid for their loyalty and commitment.
Marta makes jokes, but she knows I’d do it.
She hasn’t pressed me yet, though. Maybe I’ll just do it, period. Get her a pretty tennis bracelet or something as a thank you. Well, depending on how this actually goes…
“Have fun at the beach,” she says before she hangs up. I close my trunk and head to the driver’s side and get in swiftly.
The radio turns on and the speakers are loud.
I search through the stations until I find something I like, something that has those beachy road trip vibes.
The property isn’t that far from downtown Seattle, about twenty minutes out, but traffic’s always a bitch, especially on a Sunday when all the vacation folks are switching out.
My nerves are frayed, and I tell myself everything is going to be fine. He said yes. He agreed to help. But I’d be lying if I said I was only worried about Jacob.
I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in…
Well, ever, probably. Most of the guys I dated in my teens and early twenties were not looking to get into a serious relationship, and I guess I wasn’t either.
Garrett and I had just started fucking around, oddly enough, it was the summer I turned twenty-one when our families were both staying up at the beach that year.
The irony that Garrett will be there, now of all times, is not lost on me.
When I’d talked to my mother last night—to confirm my boyfriend was coming and that we’d be there—she said Dad was looking at Chris and Garrett as an option for his replacement.
If Chris knew, he was a really good liar, considering he’s done tech work for my dad in the past, helping to build some of the booking systems for some of our websites.
But honestly, I don’t think he knew my dad was actually considering him until he dropped the news yesterday.
I shouldn’t be that pissed—I mean, Chris is family, so at least the company would stay with the family and an Everett would be at the helm, but it does piss me off.
Most men in my dad’s position would be frothing at the mouth to have their son take over the family business.
Hell, even Rob put his son on the board for the Tempest properties and made him a damn shareholder.
Which is why I’m more than shocked my dad is considering Garrett, of all people, as a candidate.
According to my mother, Rob and my dad have discussed the potential for a merger, but nothing’s been settled.
It’s just been talked about. Which in Dad terms means it’s not entirely out of the question.
My dad always drags his feet on shit, but even though he may be slow on the actual signing of things, he doesn’t entertain useless ideas.
Tony Everett doesn’t just tell you he’ll think about or waste your time.
If you’re in talks with my dad, you’re halfway there.
The idea of merging Tempest and Evermore makes my stomach flip and not in the good way.
I’m not saying the Tempest’s aren’t successful or that they don’t know what they’re doing, but they are a luxury hotel chain that caters to adults looking for discretion.
Everyone in the business knows what that means.
The Tempest is where you take your mistress or girlfriend, not your wife or kids. The Tempest caters to men—and women—who want to escape the mundanity of their cookie-cutter marriages and lives and who want to engage in a little fantasy.
With or without their partners. Mostly without.
I’ve listened to my father bitch about this very thing—marketing affairs and scandals in a way that makes the Tempest’s quite rich—for years.
He’s always said he’d never do something like that, because hospitality is about connection and family and memories, and I couldn’t agree more.
This business, this company, Evermore itself…
That’s my childhood. That’s my home.
Not the four million dollar house I grew up in or the sprawling beach house or even the villa in Italy.
Evermore hotels are where I grew up. Some of my best memories are of being in those hotels.
Our hotels have always been family hotels, and unlike the Tempest’s, we don’t exclude people.
Everyone is welcome at Evermore . Everyone can be an Evermore family and experience that warm, cozy connection, and everyone should be able to have that experience and walk away feeling loved like they’re family.
Merging with Tempest would be a disaster. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if dad chooses Garrett—a man who has no concept of what family actually means. He has a worse relationship with his dad than I have with mine, and they work together, for God’s sakes.
Not to mention the fact Garrett is a man who consistently cheats on his spouses.
He’s been married three times. His first two wives were actually beautiful, smart, successful women, and his third marriage was to an affluent gay art dealer in SoHo.
I’m sure George is smart and successful, too.
I’m sure Garrett will find a way to destroy him before too long, and I hate that I might have played a part in that destruction.
Had I known he was married, I would not have even let him come to my damn room. He knows how I feel about that shit.
Which is precisely why he manipulated the situation so you didn’t know.
Selfish prick.
I shove the thoughts of Garrett out of my mind as I pull up to Jacob’s street.
After I’d called my mom, I texted him to let him know I’d pick him up this morning and he sent me a thumbs up, so I assumed that meant he was good, and that made me feel better, even if it was only momentary.
But now? Now as I park my car and stare up at his apartment complex, it’s really hitting me.
There can be no room for error. This relationship needs to be iron clad and irrefutable. I need this to work, so I can save my family’s company from falling into a fucking merger that could potentially destroy our entire legacy.
I pull out my phone and text Jacob.
Me: Here. Do you need help with your luggage?
Jacob’s immediate response makes me smile, because I know it means he was already waiting, likely on his phone.
Prince Charming: I’m good, thanks. OMW down.
I smirk, knowing he’s not trying to be a brat, but apparently he’s a natural.
Which is another reason I am more than excited to spend a week with this man, hired or not.
I get out of the car and pop the trunk just as Jacob is strolling out the door, and I have to do a double take because I think I literally see double.
Jacob’s carrying a duffel over his shoulder and pulling a large black suitcase, while his doppleganger pulls a smaller suitcase. And then I realize my seeing double isn’t actually a vision problem, but…
Yeah. Twin.
My eyes widen as I take in the similarities, but also the differences, now that I can see them.
His brother’s bigger, for one. Muscle-wise. Though they have the same face with those same piercing blue eyes, his brother’s all dark features. Deep brown hair, a scruffy beard. He looks younger than Jacob, dressed in ripped jeans and an oversized Led Zeppelin shirt. Jacob, however…
Looks poised as hell in his tight-fitting polo shirt and shorts, his blonde hair swept back effortlessly. I take in the sight of his long, lean legs, those tapered ankles that look sexier than they should in his Sperry’s.
God, what is this the 1800s? Am I really getting all keyed up over some man’s fucking ankles ?
Yes, I think I am, because fuck, all I can see in my brain are those ankles locked around my waist while I punish him for being a fucking brat.
Do not go there, Aaron!
I blink out of my stupor and speed up the sidewalk to grab the small suitcase from his brother and introduce myself. I mean, my mother didn’t raise a man to be rude over here.