CHAPTER EIGHT
Sutton
“It’s paradise, Lizzy. Absolute paradise disguised in dated décor that most definitely has to go and staff who need a pick-me-up in the friendly department.”
“That’s what my girl is there for,” she shouts into the phone. “To kick ass, take names, and make that bitch profitable!”
Everybody needs a friend like Lizzy. The truth teller when you don’t want to hear it and your biggest cheerleader when you need it even more. And the woman who stands guard at your apartment, looking to see if your ex comes home while you pack all of the clothing you need as quickly as possible.
“That’s the plan,” I say as I look around. Palm trees sway in the breeze and a steel drum can be heard playing somewhere in the distance. The crystal-clear ocean water and white sand beach is laid out in front of me in all its glory.
Beaches definitely don’t look like this in New York.
Neither do resorts.
Where Manhattan is all sleek high-rises, miles of concrete, and a fast-paced energy, Ocean’s Edge is exactly the opposite.
The white clapboard buildings, while weathered and worn, sprawl across lush grounds where tropical plants and vibrant flowers dot every walkway and corner. The vibe is laid-back and serene.
Even in the short time I’ve wandered about, I can see why the Sharpe brothers bought this place. It’s dog-eared and dated but the potential to make this a high-end concept is endless.
“So tell me about your room? Is it overlooking the water? Does it have a bird’s-eye view of some hot, sexy gardener who refuses to wear a shirt because it’s so hot, and who offers to trim your bush for free?”
“You’re delusional.”
“No, I’m stuck in New York while you’re about to live your best life in paradise.” She laughs. “So? Your room?”
“It’s incredible.” I sigh. “It’s on the backside of the property—staff quarters, I assume—so no ocean views because those are reserved for the guests, but it’s perfect in every other way. Open windows with ocean breezes and the sound of the palm trees rustling. It’s perfect.”
“Sounds heavenly, but what exactly does staff quarters mean? You’re sharing a room with someone you don’t know? That could put a damper on the abundance of sex you’re going to have.”
“Yes. That was my exact thought.” I snort. “It’s more like I have my own bed and bathroom and it opens into a common area with a kitchenette that I share with whoever occupies the other suite. Kind of like a two-bedroom apartment.”
“And so, who occupies the other suite?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t even have time to look because I was delayed getting my rental car. I literally dropped off my stuff and headed out to my first meeting.”
“And that went well?”
“It didn’t happen at all because it was rescheduled for later tonight. Can’t say I complained though because it gave me some time to sit back and enjoy this place before I jump in feet first tomorrow.”
“You? Sit back and relax? Are you feeling okay?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. I currently have a rum punch in my hand—with a paper umbrella in it, I might add—and my toes are in the sand.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. Like really impressed.”
“I’m trying,” I say, my voice softening as I lift my face to the sun, close my eyes, and let it warm my cheeks.
“I know you are. Dare I ask if you’ve heard anything from Clint yet to dampen this new place you’re in?”
I emit a resigned chuckle. “Of course I have, but it hasn’t changed my mind. He texted to see if I’d pick up his blue and yellow tie from the cleaners for him as well as a reminder to make sure I have the black dress with the cut-out neckline ready for dinner with his boss.”
“So he’s still in denial then.”
“I don’t think it’s denial. It’s more . . . self-righteousness? Arrogance? I don’t even know what to call it, but he’s in for a rude awakening when I’m not there for dinner with his boss.”
“You promise?” Lizzy asks cautiously.
“Did you forget I’m hundreds of miles away now? It’s over, Lizzy. Like over, over. I’m not going back, and I don’t have any regrets other than the time I’ve wasted. I think I mistook duty for love and that’s on me.”
She lets her silence be her no-judgment answer, and for that I’m more than grateful.
Clint thinks I’ll be going back because I can’t live without him.
He’s wrong. Dead wrong.
And the night of our breakup, the one-night stand that awakened all of my senses and the days following where I’ve thrown myself into the details of this project without pause, proved just how wrong he was.
Besides, ending a two-year relationship should entail some sadness and grief, not relief and regret.
I think that says enough in and of itself.
“I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs, causing my carefree smile to widen.
“This is one hundred percent what I need right now. Some time away. A new job to focus on. A new experience to enjoy. The—”
“The triplet you want to fuck again.”
“I—uh—”
“Cat got your tongue? Because you know I’m right.”
“More like cat’s got my tongue because sometimes the things you say are shocking.”
“Having to work with a man who might or might not be the man who fucked your brains out is shocking. Having to work with a man who looks exactly like the man who dirty-talked you into oblivion and not being able to think of anything else while he discusses staff salary structures and guest complaints is even worse. I mean, you’re damned if it’s him and you’re damned if it isn’t.
Maybe the solution is you ask for a triplet sandwich and be done with it. ”
“There is something sooooo wrong with you.” I laugh and draw a look from a woman passing by.
“You know you’ve already thought of it. What sane woman wouldn’t have?”
“Perhaps.” A smile creeps onto my lips. “But nothing is going to happen. No sleeping with my boss. No triplet sandwiches. No anything.” And just the thought has my thighs clenching together.
This is not a good sign.
“Callahan.” She draws the name out as if she didn’t hear a word I said. “That’s a mouthful. Do you think he’ll let you shorten it to Cal in the heat of passion? Oh Cal, give me your monster cock, baby.”
“Jesus. This isn’t even a topic we’re discussing. Sleeping with my boss is a line I can’t cross. I have too much to lose.”
Her suggestive laugh has me rolling my eyes. “Then I guess it’s going to be a one-way discussion, honey, because I’m talking about it.”
My sigh fills the line, but my smile she can’t see widens.
“I believe your words were the best sex you’d ever had,” she continues. “Earth-shattering was another adjective. You didn’t think anyone would ever compare was another description. I don’t know about you, but that kind of sex is worth breaking the rules over.”
“In any other situation, yes. Maybe.” I look around to make sure no one is within earshot of my side of the conversation.
Maybe.
Why did I even say that? There is no maybe about sleeping with my boss.
“I can’t risk this opportunity, Lizzy. I have too much riding on it.
And for what? Good sex with a guy who is clearly the poster boy for One-Night Stand 101?
I mean, I’m more than certain the shock I felt walking into that conference room was tenfold for him.
While I’ve never done something like that before, clearly he has. ”
“There is no shame to be had on either side of that equation.”
“No, but if he wanted my number to get to know me better or was interested in going out again, he would have left me a card or woken me up before he left. He didn’t. That tells me where I stand. It was one and done and that’s fine.”
“So you’re totally fine sitting beside and working day in and day out with a man who rocked your world?”
“It might not be him.”
“Correct, but if it is . . . are you telling me that there won’t be that tug there? Those kitty butterflies every single time you brush a hand against his or he looks at you a certain way?”
“This is a moot point. Let’s say Callahan is Johnnie. Since he’s had several days with my phone number in hand and still hasn’t called, it doesn’t matter if I get kitty butterflies or not, clearly the chase is over and he’s no longer interested in me.”
“You could always talk him into sex without strings. Sex for the sake of sex. Sex as a means to relax after a long, frustrating day. Sex as—”
“I get the point,” I say and shift in my seat, my mind replaying the sight of him standing between my thighs, his hand stroking his cock. “But like I said, Callahan might not be Johnnie.”
“But what if he is . . .”
“One—”
“Oh God, she’s counting.” Lizzy laughs. “That means you’re about to lay down the law for me.”
I chuckle and start again. “One, you’re assuming I want to have sex with him again.”
“You do.”
I do.
“Maybe he was a unicorn. Maybe you only ride a unicorn once because it’s magical and never meant to be had again.”
“A unicorn? God help me.”
“Two. Callahan might not have been Johnnie. So, then what? I ask him and then blow my cover that I’ve already slept with one of his brothers? I mean . . . that doesn’t exactly bode well for me in the keeping my job department.”
“True, but—”
“And three, if Callahan is Johnnie and he wanted to smooth things over with me before I got here, he’s known where to reach me.
All he had to do was call and straighten things out.
A quick, this is awkward, but it won’t affect my professionalism or the job you have to do for us.
Or even, it was great, and what happened will stay between us.
It could even be, I’m Johnnie. The other night was incredible, and I want to see you again.
But my phone hasn’t rung, and that leads me to believe that he doesn’t want me to know which one he was.
He holds all the cards right now. I can’t force him to play his hand. ”
And I’m not one hundred percent sure how I feel about that. Rejected but relieved. Unsettled but resolute.
Or just plain crazy.
I vote for the latter.
“Point taken.”
“And four? He’s my boss. I can’t sleep with him. It’ll only serve to muddy up the waters when I have this huge opportunity for me at work.”
“I hear you,” she murmurs, “but I’m still holding out hope for some wild monkey sex.”
“Great. I’m glad someone is.”