Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Vida
I wake up to the gentle rocking of Tripp’s yacht.
The sunrise is just beginning to peak over the horizon, and I’m boneless.
The concept of ten-thousand-dollar sheets was ludicrous to me yesterday, but I’ve never been more upset about getting out of bed.
I’m so cool and comfortable, I have no idea how I’m going to go back to my Target sheets at home.
With a sigh, I turn over, finding myself alone in the bed.
There is a subtle blue light coming from the adjacent room and the gentle tapping of keys. Is that where Tripp went? Is he working on a computer or something?
I allow myself one more luxuriating wiggle in the sheets before sitting up and stretching my arms over my head.
Soreness registers in more than one place.
Between my legs, of course, but also my backside from being held so tightly in Tripp’s grip while he took me so roughly at the end.
My body feels used in the most delicious way. Passionately, perfectly used.
I’m never going to be the same after last night.
There’s something a little scary about that—knowing I must live with the knowledge of Tripp forever.
How he feels moving on top of me. Inside me.
How his voice deepens when we’re intimate.
How he looks down at me with such single-minded obsession, his muscles shifting in the light, his moans breaking in my ear.
Realizing I’ve started breathing harder and my hands have lifted to fondle my nipples, I shake myself resolutely and climb out of bed.
My phone is stuffed in my backpack somewhere, so I don’t know the exact time.
Based on the sunrise, though, I have approximately thirty minutes until I’m due at Reserve.
Considering I’m already at the resort dock, my commute shouldn’t be so bad.
Leaving the bed naked, I stumble a little, thanks to my legs being made of jelly.
I find my backpack and bring it into the ensuite bathroom, where I shower and use a packaged toothbrush I find under the sink.
Refreshed as much as possible when all I can think about is bed—and my assertive boyfriend—I dress in the jean shorts, bikini top, and flip-flops I originally planned to wear to Tripp’s yacht party.
Then I finger-brush my hair and leave the bathroom, already looping the backpack straps over my shoulders.
I skid to a stop when I find Tripp sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, shirtless in boxers and a pair of glasses, a laptop computer open on his powerful thighs. When I notice the folder holding my Yale application sits beside his left hip, my stomach gives a tiny flip.
He’s frowning at me. “There is absolutely no reason you should be leaving me to go to a job right now, Vida.”
Uh-huh. I had a feeling this was the reason for his sour expression.
“Somebody has to get up and make the world perfect for the billionaires,” I say primly. “It doesn’t happen through magic. It requires a lot of hard work from a lot of people.”
“One of them doesn’t need to be you.”
Last night was so incredible…and we love each other. The last thing I want is to leave for work while we’re fighting. I want to float on the euphoria of him all day long. Pouting, I saunter toward him, noting the way his features soften the closer I get.
“I just got used to how handsome you are, baby, now you throw glasses into the mix?”
He sets aside the computer and pulls me down sideways onto his lap, pressing his face to my temple with a disgruntled sound. “You think calling me baby is going to soften the blow of watching my angel leave before I can feed her breakfast?”
“I think it’ll help.”
His husky sigh is endearing. “It does. Say it again.”
“Baby.” I press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Baby.”
I squeal when he digs two fingers into my side, tickling me. “Don’t you dare make my dick hard and then leave.”
“I’m not trying to!”
“You don’t have to try,” he says, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear, his expression worshipful. “How do you feel after last night?”
“Amazing. Happy. Changed,” I whisper, leaving a soft kiss on his mouth. “For the better.”
Relief dances across his features. “Sore?”
“A little. Mostly from your kung fu grip on my butt.”
He winces, planting a hand on the sore cheek in question and rubbing gently.
“Call in sick and I’ll massage away the sting. For as long as it takes. I’ll work on your ass all day, if necessary.”
“Nice try,” I giggle, swatting away his hand, and now he’s back to frowning at me, but he’s only succeeding in making himself look bed-mussed and sexy. “What are you working on so early in the morning?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I’m already shaking my head. “I don’t like the sound of th—”
He cuts me off with a hard kiss, his knuckles stroking down the side of my face.
“Do you trust me, Vida?”
“Yes,” I whisper, giving him my honesty.
“Good.” He kisses me again, slower this time, his tongue exploring my mouth with a miserable groan. “Then go to work and let me figure out how to make the world better for you without pissing you off in the process.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“No shit.” His slow grin is outrageously hot. “But goddamn, are you worth it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you so fucking much,” he says back fervently, rolling our foreheads together. “I want constant texts coming in from you all day long, angel. All day. And your lunchbreak belongs to me. Is that clear?”
“You’ve got a date,” I sing, hopping off his lap.
Blowing his unhappy face a kiss, I sail out of the bedroom and walk the gleaming hallway to the deck, jogging off the boat and down the dock, toward the resort.
I stop and look back once, finding Tripp on the upper deck, leaning on the metal railing and watching me leave.
I have the most intense urge to run back to him and pledge to quit my job, but no.
No, I can’t do that. I’m an honest-living kind of girl.
Besides, this isn’t really my job to quit. It’s my aunt’s.
Speaking of my aunt, I really need to call her.
I didn’t tell her I would be spending the night out last night.
As soon as I get changed into my uniform, I’ll shoot her a text.
Tearing my eyes away from the sight of the broody, muscular outline of my boyfriend against the sunrise, I haul butt up the concrete stairway to the employee entrance.
I expect to walk inside and find the locker room mostly empty, but I stop short when I walk into a beehive of activity.
Lockers slam, voices speak in harried whispers. Everyone is rushing to get dressed.
“What’s going on?” I ask the closest member of staff. A maid, like me.
“Management called an emergency meeting. All staff must attend.”
“An emergency meeting?” I repeat, stunned. When has this ever happened? “Did management say what the meeting is about?”
She looks down, buttoning her vest. “Something about reestablishing protocol when it comes to fraternizing with guests…and establishing a new system to avoid inappropriate behavior.”
My scalp prickles with heat, a weight dropping low in my stomach.
Oh God.
Is the meeting about me?
The word fraternizing doesn’t even come close to what I’ve been doing with Tripp. I’ve been sneaking into his room. Dating him. And he’s the most famous guest at the resort.
Am I about to get fired? In front of everyone?
Are they going to make an example out of me?
My hands are shaking the entire time as I get dressed and hang my backpack in my locker. Just before I follow the sea of employees out of the room, my phone lights up in the front pocket, and I look down at the screen. It’s Tripp.
Tripp: Why haven’t you texted me yet?
Vida: Help. I’m in trouble.
Wide-eyed, I move with the pack up the staircase to the management offices, filing into a conference room I’ve never entered before. A man sits at the head of the table with his hands folded, his gaze landing directly on me the moment I enter the room.
Oh no. The meeting really is about me.
Why can’t they just fire me privately?
“Good morning and thank you for coming,” the man says briskly. “We all have duties to attend to, so I’ll make this brief. Our biggest client has made some observations during his stay at Reserve, and due to his rightful concerns, we are going to institute some changes beginning today.”
I’m so prepared to be publicly canned, it takes me a moment to catch up.
Biggest client? Isn’t that Tripp?
“This client, who shall remain unnamed, expressed his grave concern about the safety of the maids. As of today, there will be discreet security guards stationed in all common areas. Our client has also purchased a state-of-the-art safety system that will provide every maid with a panic button to be worn at all times. If the button is pushed, security headquarters will dispatch a guard immediately. A team is flying in from Switzerland this morning to install it and buttons will be distributed without delay.” He quickly scans the room. “Any questions?”
Everyone appears to be stunned into silence.
Including me. Though my heart is pounding like a drum.
Then go to work and let me figure out how to make the world better for you without pissing you off in the process.
Tripp did this.
When I was harassed by that man at the pool, Tripp told me he was going to make sure nothing like that ever happened again—and he meant it.
He really meant it. He didn’t make a false promise and move on with his life.
He took action. Meaningful action. The maids at Reserve are going to be so much safer because of his thoughtfulness and generosity.
Love overflows inside me like water through a cracked aquarium.
“Vida!”
I’m thinking so hard about Tripp, I assume I’m hallucinating his panicked call of my name. Until I hear it again, along with a series of doors being ripped open and slammed shut.
“VIDA!”
The frantic text I sent my boyfriend comes back to me in a flash.
I told Tripp I was in trouble.
Now, he’s here.