Chapter 1 #2
Adam is my ex. Before he was my boyfriend, he was my boss. When I was promoted to management, he reached out, and after two months of sneaking around and hooking up, we made it official. I thought he was my future. I was so damn wrong.
Once I explained what was happening with my grandmother’s business in Coconut Beach and how I wanted to try long distance, he broke up with me.
There was no discussion. He let me walk away, after everything we’d been through to stay together.
I’d have done anything for him, but he was done with me. The thought makes me sick.
“Don’t reply,” Josie whispers, reaching forward to lock my phone. “Fuck that guy.”
Mia shakes her head. “Block him. Don’t even give him the opportunity to text you.”
I flip the phone screen down. “Neither of you has anything to worry about. I’m not giving him a second chance.”
“And you know why? It’s because you’re chunky guac with onions, tomatoes, and jalapenos, baby. You are not free salsa,” Josie reminds me.
“If only men actually treated me that way.”
“One day, someone will enter your life and treat you like a princess,” Josie says. “I promise.”
“You know the best way to get over an ex is to get under someone else,” Mia says, twisting a few of the bracelets on her wrists. “Always works like a charm for me.”
“Yeah, well, the last thing I need is some random hookup. I’m in my thirties now. It’s not cute anymore. Most of the people my age are married with kids. Now I’m hanging out with you guys.”
Josie playfully scoffs. “We keep you young! And you know what? Maybe being a little irresponsible and breaking the invisible rules you’ve set for yourself is exactly what you need,” Josie says.
“May I suggest something temporary for the summer? A fun little hookup with a hottie? There are thousands of people traveling here for the season. I’m sure there’s one you could have fun with. ”
“Please tell me you’re not suggesting a summer crush. I’m not flinging with anyone for the season. Absolutely not.”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Josie confirms. “Let loose.”
“Hard no. Fooling around is exactly how things started with Adam. Look where it got me.” I roll my eyes and take another drink of my coffee. “I might actually hate men now.”
Josie and Mia exchange a look, and I know they don’t believe me, but they’re smart enough not to push it. My tolerance for jokes has been low lately.
Josie steals a candy from the jar on the counter, and Mia scrolls through the photos on her camera. For a second, it’s just the three of us in the empty lobby on a Monday afternoon with nothing but iced coffees. It’s almost worry-free.
Then the front door opens, and sunshine floods through as a man with broad shoulders fills the doorframe.
The door snaps shut behind him, hard enough to rattle the seashell Welcome sign Josie made years ago.
Mia’s head turns, and Josie’s mouth falls open.
I think they’re as stunned as me, but I don’t show my shock.
This man looks like he stepped off the wrong flight and landed on our little island by accident. His white button-up is rolled at the sleeves, and golden-brown hair sits messily on his head. When he removes his sunglasses, blue eyes scan the room before landing directly on me.
He must be lost. Poor thing.
“Ask and you shall receive,” Josie whispers, jumping down from the counter and grabbing Mia by the arm. “We were just leaving. Have a great day.”
They grab their cups that are dripping with condensation and walk past him.
Josie says something I can’t hear, and he flashes her a set of dimples that should be illegal.
I straighten my posture and plant my professional expression while heat crawls up my neck.
He’s attractive, my type, but completely out of my league.
I hate that it’s my first thought. Five and a half years at the W trained me to read guests fast. His relaxed clothes are hiding something his posture gives away.
He walks through the living room toward the counter, carrying two large duffels. They’re designer, expensive. His eyes move past me but return when he’s closer. The smell of his cologne hits me. It’s expensive, the kind of scent that’s fresh and woodsy and tells me he’s trouble.
“Carter Banks,” he states formally.
“Mr. Banks.” I hold his gaze and clear my throat. “How can I help you?”
He blinks a few times. “I’m here for my reservation.”
“Sure. Give me one moment.” I open the booking system on my laptop and don’t see one for him.
I refresh, search his name backward, and even check the canceled tab.
Nothing comes up, but I don’t panic. His eyes stay locked on me, making it hard for me to concentrate.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a reservation under that name. Do you have a confirmation number?”
“I can go to the Grand Palm.” The frustration in his tone is clear. “It’s more my style anyway.”
The Grand Palm is the biggest resort on the beach, the one that’s been siphoning our business since it opened ten years ago.
“Please don’t. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding that I will happily solve.”
There’s no way in hell I’m letting this reservation walk out the door. Carter slides his phone from his pocket and sends a text. While he waits, his gaze focuses on the peeling wallpaper, the worn counter, then back to me again. The B&B is clearly not what he expected.
His phone vibrates, and he glances down. “My assistant spoke with someone named Gale a few days ago.”
Of course.
I flip through the papers on the counter, then grab the notebook my grandmother usually scribbles business info in during mimosas with the Bees. Her chicken scratch is barely legible, but I find a note.
Reservation
Carter Banks
June 1–Aug 3
63 nights
Captain’s Room!!!
P&Q REQUIRED!
Sixty-three nights.
I read it again to make sure my grandma’s words aren’t playing tricks on me.
I do the math. Two months at our seasonal summer rates would cover the B&B’s expenses into the fall.
It would give me enough to pay the late bills and make some repairs, not just duct tape and buckets.
The relief is overwhelming, but I keep my face neutral.
“Everything okay?” he asks, but the concern isn’t genuine.
“Great.” I pull up the screen. “To confirm, you’re staying until August third?”
“This was a mistake.” Carter shakes his head.
“It’s not.” I keep my voice even because if this man walks out that door, so does the money. “I’ll quickly enter you into the system, five minutes max.”
“You have three.” He drops the bags, leather slaps against the floor, and pulls out his wallet. He slides his ID and credit card across the counter. “The seconds are ticking.”
I start typing. He turns his back to me and stares out the windows at the water while I work. Just by his demeanor, I know he’s the kind of guy who snaps his fingers and people jump.
My grandmother wrote P&Q next to his name, meaning he needs to be left alone. The tension in his shoulders and the exhaustion on his face tell me this is an escape trip.
At the final screen, the total for his reservation populates.
$31,437 plus tax.
My fingers tremble over the keyboard, and I curl them into my palms so he won’t see. Carter Banks handed me a lifeline and has no idea.
“You’re in the Captain’s Room. Faces the ocean, king-size bed, best view in the house on the top floor with a covered balcony.”
I grab a key ring with a mermaid on it from the wall and slide the key across the counter.
His hand reaches for it at the same time, and our fingers brush.
The contact sends a jolt through me, and I pull away, but so does he.
Up close, his blue eyes have flecks of gray in them.
He holds my gaze long enough to make my heart race.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“Please review the terms. No smoking, no pets, no wild parties. Click agree and sign on the next screen.”
I flip the tablet around, and he handles it with several quick motions and a scribble with his finger. I slide his card, and I’m given an instant approval. Part of me wants to kiss that green confirmation banner that pops up.
“That’s it, Mr. Banks. Thanks for choosing Seaside.” I offer him one of our welcome booklets. “Local restaurants and businesses are inside, and there’s a cell number you can text if you need anything at all. Happy to help.”
He glances down at his watch, and I notice it’s a Patek Philippe.
It’s a brand I recognize that starts at six figures.
Guys like him stay at the Grand Palm, with its rooftop pools and concierge service, not a B&B with peeling wallpaper and a grandmother who takes reservations during morning mimosas.
Carter Banks is running from something, and he chose the end of the earth to disappear.
He notices me staring at it and shoves his hand in his pocket.
“Breakfast is between seven and nine, and the kitchen is free for your use at any time.”
He nods once.
“If you need anything, I’m usually—”
“I won’t.”
He picks up his bags and walks toward the stairs without a second glance. The stairs creak under his weight, and then he’s gone.
I’m partially offended by how he acted toward me, but when I glance at the confirmation screen, I don’t seem to care anymore.
$31,437.
That number fixes the bathroom pipes, pays the back taxes, catches up the electrical bill, and maybe gives me enough to rehire one person, so I’m not stripping beds and running the desk alone until September.
Ten minutes ago, I was wondering how to tell Josie we could lose this place by October, and then trouble with blue eyes and an attitude problem changed it all.
The pipes rattle, which means Carter Banks is running the sink in the Captain’s Room. He’ll be here until August, walking through my lobby and existing in my space all summer. I need to stay out of his way and him out of mine.
But I can’t deny the flutter I felt when our fingers brushed, and I can still smell his cologne in the air. This grumpy stranger with an expensive watch means nothing. I don’t get to trust that feeling anymore. Not after Adam.
The confirmation screen is still glowing on the laptop. I open the expense spreadsheet and plug in the new numbers. They’re not fatal.
My phone buzzes, and I immediately pick it up.
Josie
Sooooo? I think I manifested him for you.
Wendy
Not happening. Gran took the reservation yesterday. He’s staying for two months.
Josie
What?! Wendy. WENDY. This man is summer-crush material. Mia and I have already shipped you!
Wendy
Don’t you dare! This is how rumors get started. I’ll murder you BOTH!
Josie
Too late. She thinks you should start wearing cute clothes every day.
Wendy
Shut it!
I set the phone down. For the first time since I came home, saving the B&B seems possible.
Josie
OMFG! Mia just said, if you don’t make a move, maybe she will.
Wendy
Goodbye, Josie.
Josie
He’s packing heat. I was catching print! Nothing like some D to turn that frown upside down!
Wendy
GOODBYE, JOSIE!!!
The pipes rattle again upstairs, and I close the laptop. For the next two months, I’ll have Carter Banks under my roof, and all I have to do is stay focused on keeping him happy so I can save this place. Someone, say a little prayer for me.