Chapter 3
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” ~ Dakota
Dakota
K nock! Knock! Knock!
Huh. What’s going on? Why is someone knocking on my door? I hope there’s not an emergency in the motel. It was bad enough I spent half the night listening to a drunk mermaid complain about how all the good smugglers were taken.
I probably should have researched Smuggler’s Hideaway before I decided to upend my entire life to the island. Although, my entire life went up in flames after my husband’s funeral anyway. There wasn’t much to salvage from the ashes.
“Get out of here!”
My eyes fly open, and I look to my side to discover a large man looming toward me. “AARGH!”
“What are you screaming about?”
I clutch my chest as I scan the area. What in the world is going on? With a start, I realize I’m in my car. I glance down at myself and notice I’m dressed for work at the distillery.
I must not be dreaming since I tend to be naked in my dreams. And I don’t care what anyone says. Dreaming I’m naked does not mean I’m sexually repressed.
“Come on.” The man knocks on my car window again. “Move it along. This isn’t a parking spot for vagrants.”
Vagrants. I’m not a vagrant. Is he an idiot?
I open the door and he jumps away before I hit him.
“What are you doing? There’s no reason to get out of your car. Drive away. We don’t have a restroom or shower for you to use.”
My nostrils flare at his words. “I don’t need a restroom or shower, Mr. High and Mighty.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw at my words, and try as I might, I can’t miss how sexy the move is. And those eyes that are glaring at me are pretty darn sexy, too. They’re a deep blue a woman could drown in.
“My name is not Mr. High and Mighty,” he growls and my stomach dips. Someone has a deep, growly voice I wouldn’t mind hearing growl my name in my ear.
“Sorry. Do you prefer I refer to you as jerk?”
He fists his hands at his side and I notice how big they are. I bet those hands are strong enough to lift me up and place me on the nearest flat surface. Considering how tall he is, it would have to be a high surface for our parts to line up.
“Are you listening to me? We don’t allow vagrants to park here.”
All visions of us getting horizontal disappear. I spit daggers out of my eyes at him.
“I am not a vagrant.”
He motions to my car. “Could have fooled me.”
I nearly cringe since my car is cringeworthy, but I don’t.
“Judgy much?”
He leans forward and I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “I’m not the one who was sleeping in their car in a parking lot.”
He’s also not the one who worked eight hours last night before rushing to shower and change into business attire for her first day as a personal assistant to a billionaire. The man is clueless but I’m not filling him in. Karma will take care of his ass.
I inhale a deep breath and search for calm. Mr. High and Mighty probably works at the distillery. Making an enemy of another employee on my first day is not a good idea. I want allies, not enemies.
“I was not sleeping in my car,” I manage to say without gritting my teeth.
He snorts. “Liar. I literally saw you.”
“I am not a liar!” So much for calm. “There’s a difference between accidentally falling asleep while you wait for a business to open up and sleeping somewhere on purpose.”
He rolls his eyes. “It sounds as if… Hold on. Did you say you’re waiting for the business to open?”
“Yes.”
“This business?” He motions to the distillery.
I spread out my arms. “I don’t see any other businesses around here.”
Buccaneer’s Whiskey & Distillery is not located in one of the towns on Smuggler’s Hideaway. It sits on its own land halfway between Smuggler’s Rest where the Mermaid Motel is and Rogue’s Landing. The other town on the island is Pirate’s Perch, but I haven’t had time to visit it yet.
“Why are you…” He trails off and swears under his breath. “You’re Dakota.”
I hold out my hand. “Dakota Bell.”
I don’t add how it’s nice to meet him because – despite what he thinks – I’m not a liar.
He shakes my hand and I nearly jolt when I feel a spark of electricity. His eyes widen and he drops my hand. I guess he feels it, too. And, guessing by how quickly he dropped my hand, he’s not happy about it.
I get it, Mr. High and Mighty. I don’t want to be attracted to you either. Even though I’m happy to discover my libido didn’t die with my husband.
“Rhett Raider,” he grumbles.
Raider? As in one of the founding brothers of the distillery? Well, shit. This day just went from bad to worse, and the clock hasn’t struck nine yet.
“Eli told me you’d be starting today. I’ll show you around.”
He pivots and marches to the building. I grab my purse and slam my car door shut before rushing after him. By the time we reach the building, I’m gasping for air.
“If I had known about today’s race, I wouldn’t have worn heels,” I mutter.
Rhett’s gaze drops to my feet. His appraising look has me wanting to squirm. I lock my muscles before he notices the effect on me. This is my new boss’s brother. And he’s a jerk. My body is confused because it’s not used to getting any attention from men, is all.
“We’re pretty casual here.” He unlocks the door and motions me inside.
Casual? He’s wearing a pair of khakis with a button-down shirt. And Eli was wearing a three-piece suit when he interviewed me. Granted, he was at his office in California, but still, I wasn’t going to show up wearing a sundress. Not on my first day at least.
“This is your work area.”
I glance around the room. It’s basically the foyer but there’s a decent-sized workstation set up in one corner.
He points to a piece of paper on the desk. “Your username, password, and keys to the building.”
I set my purse down and reach for the piece of paper.
Rhett clears his throat. “I’ll show you the rest of the offices and the distillery and then you can get settled. Eli said he’d email you a list of things he needs you to do since he’s still in California until next week.”
“Okay.”
I follow him down a corridor of offices. “This is Eli’s office. I’m next door. Zane and Miles are across the hallway.”
“What is your position? And what do Zane and Miles do?”
“As little as possible,” he mutters before raising his voice. “I’m the CFO. Zane is Head of Marketing and Miles is Head of Sales.”
The corridor ends at an industrial sized door. “This is the entrance to the distillery. You probably won’t need to go in here often.”
“Okay.”
“Jaxon will give you a tour if you want one.”
Of course, I want one. I technically work for Eli and not the distillery. But I’ll be working here at the distillery every day. I want to know everything about it. Making whiskey sounds way more interesting than plumbing, which is where I worked before.
“I’ll ask him when I meet him.”
“Good luck with him. He’s a bit shy.”
I flash a smile at Rhett. “Don’t worry. I’ll charm him.”
He scowls. “No charming my brothers. This is a work environment. Not the chance for you to bag a millionaire.”
I whip out a salute. “Aye, Aye, Captain High and Mighty.”
“And stop calling me High and Mighty.”
If the shoe fits…
The door to the offices bangs open and a man strolls inside. “Who’s High and Mighty?”
Rhett scowls. “This is my brother, Zane.”
I shake his hand. “Marketing, isn’t it?”
“Marketing, fun maker, I can be whatever you need.” He winks.
Rhett growls. “I told you. No flirting with Eli’s PA.”
Zane widens his eyes and feigns innocence. I met the man two seconds ago, and even I know he’s the furthest thing from innocent. I recognize a troublemaker when I meet one.
I roll my eyes. “Mr. High and Mighty doesn’t approve of fun.”
Zane chuckles. “I love you already.”
I relax. I was worried I made the wrong decision to relocate my entire life to Smuggler’s Hideaway when I met Rhett, but Zane is fun. As long as I don’t let him talk me into dropping my panties for him, I’ll be just fine.
Zane threads his arm through mine. “Miles, Kai, and I are the fun brothers. The others?” He wrinkles his nose. “Not so much. Stick with me, kid.”
Rhett elbows his way in between us. “She’s supposed to be working. As are you.”
Zane sniffs. “Boring.” He flounces away.
Rhett glares at me, and I motion toward my desk. “I’ll just …”
I hurry away. I don’t need to spend any more time in his presence. My body disagrees. It thinks we should jump him like a pole and take him for a ride. My body also enjoys mixing its metaphors.
It doesn’t matter what my body wants. Rhett Raider is a jerk, and I plan to stay as far away from him as possible.
While working in the same building, a few doors away from each other.
Easy peasy. I got this.