Chapter 19
DASH
Iwoke up and lay there for a few minutes in the quiet of my room, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the night before. Her voice haunted my dreams. In a good way. I had no idea she was hiding the golden throat of a songbird.
I didn’t understand why she wasn’t singing instead of consulting for guys like me.
The way she’d finally let go and had let me see the woman she was?
I was already thinking about how to get her back there again.
I wanted her to feel like she was safe with me.
She didn’t have to be Captain Krista. She could just be her.
I got up, showered, and got to work. I had a plan, and contrary what some people thought, I did know a little something about planning and execution.
I opened my laptop and went through every pending item for Mykonos.
Confirmed the hotel accommodations. Checked in with the talent coordinator.
Sent emails to vendors that I’d been putting off for days.
Made one phone call to the event planner overseeing the talent appreciation weekend to make sure nothing had gone sideways since I last checked.
Everything was fine. Better than fine, actually. Handled.
“See,” I said to the room.
I picked up the phone and called the concierge. Not long after, I knocked on Krista’s door.
She answered still looking half asleep, hair loose around her shoulders, wearing her West Point shirt that looked like it had been worn through at least one war. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re spending the day enjoying Corfu.”
“We need to leave for Mykonos today,” she said, shaking her head. The tired look in her eyes was quickly being replaced by annoyance.
“No, we don’t. I made plans. I’ve been up for an hour. I’ve doublechecked the arrangements for Mykonos. All of it. Everything is ready.”
“Really? You checked on everything?”
I shrugged. “You can verify all of it. Check my sent folder.”
“You’re very perky.”
I grinned. “Here’s what I’m proposing,” I said. “One day. Not a vacation. Just you, me, the pool, and whatever you want to eat and drink. Blackwell hospitality, full service. You’ve been running at full speed for who knows how long. You’re allowed to breathe.”
“I breathe fine.”
“I think you’re in survival mode. One day, Krista. People take days off.”
She almost smiled. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“I know you don’t need it. But would you like it? Just for today?” I tilted my head. “When’s the last time someone took care of you?”
Krista didn’t answer because she couldn’t. I knew it had been years. Maybe since before her mother got sick.
“One day,” I said. “And if you hate it, I’ll personally drive us to the ferry and we’ll be in Mykonos by dinner.”
She exhaled through her nose and I knew I’d won.
“One day,” she said.
“Good. Meet me at the pool. I’ll be the guy in the cabana.”
“You’re obnoxious.”
“I know.”
It took her about twenty minutes to come down to the pool. She was wearing a cover-up, a white linen thing that reached mid-thigh. I wanted to know what was under there. I would find out. Her hair was up, but it wasn’t the severe ponytail or bun. It was a loose, messy bun that was stylish and sexy.
She sat on the lounger beside mine looking just a little stiff.
I signaled to the server I’d already spoken to, and within three minutes a tray arrived with a drink for her.
A strawberry daiquiri. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with something cold and fruity with an umbrella in it and a ring of pineapple on the rim.
She looked at it, then at me. “You ordered for me.”
“I did. I told you, I’m taking care of you today. You will want for nothing.”
She picked it up and took a sip. I watched her try not to look pleased about it. She failed.
“It’s good,” she admitted.
“I know.”
We sat in the sun for a while without talking, which was something I’d never been good at with anyone else. With Krista, the silences were comfortable. She wasn’t filling the air with her wish list of handbags or complaints about what some frenemy did at the last party.
About an hour in, she set her drink down, reached for the hem of her cover-up, and pulled it over her head. I forgot what I was thinking about.
She was wearing a simple black one-piece, nothing flashy, nothing designed to show off.
Practical, like everything she wore. And somehow that made it worse.
I was a man who’d spent years surrounded by models in all kinds of clothing, and none of it had ever hit me the way Krista in a black one-piece did.
The waiter returned with the platter of fresh fruit I had requested. She pulled her sunglasses down to look at me. “Really?”
“Eat,” I said.
She grinned and leaned back, her left leg bent as she popped grapes in her mouth. It would probably be a bit much if I would have tried to feed her. Later. I would definitely be trying later.
She was settling into it, trusting me enough to let it happen. That felt different from anything I’d earned before. Earning her trust had been a huge challenge and it was rewarding.
“This is nice,” she said eventually, like she was confessing something mildly shameful.
“I know.” I ate a few strawberries and chunks of melon.
She stood up, walked to the edge of the pool, and slipped in without ceremony. I grinned. Great idea. I sat up, pulled off my shirt, and followed her into the water. It was cool enough to be a relief against the heat.
She surfaced, pushed her hair back from her face, and looked at me with something that was almost mischief.
“What?” I asked.
She splashed me right in the face, leaving me gasping and sputtering. I had no choice but to retaliate with some splashing of my own. She ducked under the water to avoid it and came up laughing, already repositioning for the next attack.
For about ten minutes we were two completely ridiculous adults splashing each other like we were rowdy children. It was genuinely fun to let loose with her. She was faster than me, but I was stronger, so we were pretty evenly matched.
“Truce,” she finally said, breathless, treading water in front of me.
“Truce,” I agreed.
We floated there for a minute. Water droplets clung to her thick eyelashes. She looked young. Uncomplicated. My phone started ringing from the pool chair. I ignored it.
Krista raised her eyebrows. “Is this why you never answer your phone? You’re always in the pool?”
“Sometimes,” I said with a smile. “But don’t worry. I’m going to answer it.”
“Wow.” She tilted her head. “Answering your phone. Where’s the real Dash Blackwell?”
“I can tell from the ringtone it’s Adrian.” I pulled myself out of the pool, grabbed a towel, and picked up the phone. “Give me five minutes.”
She waved me off and dove back under the water. I stepped away from the pool edge.
“Hey,” I said.
“Dash.” Adrian’s voice was hesitant, like he was expecting bad news. “Things running okay?”
“Things are running great. The Corfu content shoot wrapped yesterday, all the talent is paid, Mykonos is fully prepped, and I’ve already been in contact with the Santorini team. You can relax, brother. I’m on top of things.”
In the background, I heard a shriek of toddler laughter that could only be Bucky.
“Good,” Adrian said. “That’s good. I wanted to let you know Elizabeth and I have decided we’re coming to Santorini. For the runway show.”
I absorbed that. “You’re coming?”
“We want to be there. We’re bringing Buckaroo.”
I knew I was supposed to feel supported by this. He was trying to show he cared and they were coming because they were family. Brothers supporting each other and all of that. But that wasn’t what I felt.
“I don’t need you there, if that’s why you’re going to make the long trip,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I’ve got it. And if I don’t, the drill sergeant you assigned to me will. So rest easy.”
“I know you’ve got things under control,” Adrian said. “That’s not why we’re coming.”
“Then why?”
“Because it’s a big deal, Dash. Elizabeth doesn’t want to miss it. The new line. The runway. She’s excited about it.” A beat. “We all are.”
I turned away from the pool and looked out at the water. “So this isn’t you coming to keep an eye on me?”
“No.”
“Or to step in if things go sideways?”
“No.” His voice was patient. “It’s not that. I promise you. I mean, if things go wrong and I can help, I will, but that’s seriously not why we’re coming out.”
“Good, because you already sent me a babysitter. I don’t need two.”
“How’s that going, by the way?”
Bucky shrieked again in the background.
“Fine,” I said. “She was a lot at first, but she knows her stuff and she’s not so bad once you get to know her.”
“That’s great to hear,” Adrian said. “It sounds like you’ve found some common ground.”
“We’re getting there,” I said.
“Well, keep up the good work and we’ll see you in Santorini,” he said.
“See you in Santorini.”
I heard a wet cooing sound through the phone. “That was Bucky saying goodbye,” my brother said.
“Bye, little man,” I said with a big smile. “Keep your dad out of trouble.”
We hung up and I stood there for a second with the phone in my hand.
Despite what Adrian had said, I couldn’t shake the feeling he was coming out here just to make sure I didn’t screw up.
Was this what it felt like to be the youngest?
Always the one they came to check on. They were all so convinced I could never stand on my own two feet.
Maybe I was just projecting my own fears onto my brother. Maybe he just wanted to treat his family to a nice trip and maybe work on giving Bucky a little brother or sister.
I turned back toward the pool. Krista was getting out of the water, walking up the steps on the far side. Everything fell into slow motion. Water streamed off her shoulders and down her legs. She walked toward me, her hips swaying and her wet hair slicked back from her face.
Ho-ly fuck. How had she been hiding so much beauty under her gruff demeanor and cargo pants?
She reached for her towel and dried her hair.
“Good call or bad call?” she asked.
“Good, I think. Adrian and Elizabeth are coming to the runway show. And they’re bringing the kiddo of course.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah.”
She turned to face me, blotting water from her face.
I stepped close to her and put my hand on her waist. “I need a kiss.”
She looked up at me. For just a second, I thought she was going to let me. Her eyes dropped to my mouth. Then she looked at me and I knew there was no chance.
She stepped back. “Dash, we’re in public. There are people around.”
“So?”
“So you’re a client. This campaign is still running.
There are influencers and production staff and people with cameras staying in this hotel, and the last thing either of us needs is a picture of you pawing at your logistics consultant going viral.
” She held my gaze steadily. “I’m not one of your pool models.
I’m not an accessory for your afternoon. ”
The words were said with zero feeling. Like we hadn’t shared last night. I pulled my hand back.
“I know that,” I said.
“Do you?”
I looked at her for a moment. She kept the towel clutched in both hands, putting just enough distance between us that there was no confusing what she was saying.
One step forward. Half a step back. That was the rhythm of us, apparently.
“You weren’t worried about anyone seeing us last night.”
“We were in a cafe.”
I nodded as it all started to click into place. What she meant was she was drunk. It was dark. No one could see us. But in the bright light of day, she wanted nothing to do with me. She didn’t want to be one of many.
I’d been called a playboy a thousand times by a thousand people and it had never once bothered me.
It bothered me now. “I’ve got things to do. The pool guy knows you’re here. He’ll get you anything you want. Enjoy the day off.”
“Dash, wait.”
I walked away. She’d hurt my feelings. I wasn’t going to stick around and let her see the damage she had done. I got her message loud and clear.