CHAPTER 2 Millie Monroe
The Best News
“Okay, I’ll see you then. Thank you so much! Bye!” I end the call and dance around my apartment.
Holy shit!
I can’t believe this is actually happening.
I sit on the couch for just a second before I pop back to my feet.
Who’s the first person you call when you have news?
Some people might call a significant other, but since I don’t have one of those, I might turn to my closest friend. But she’s married to my boss, and I’m not quite ready to tell him I’ll be out of town for a month, so I guess…Mom?
I dial her number. I have to share the news with someone, and I most certainly do not have the patience to wait for my shift to start tonight.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Mom, it’s me,” I say.
“Millie?”
Is she serious? Her phone literally tells her who it is when I call, and she should recognize her only daughter’s voice after twenty-four years.
“Yes,” I say.
“How are you?”
“I just got the best news!” I say, and I bounce on my feet a little as that edge of excitement still tingles in my toes.
“What is it?”
“Paradise Island Resort in the Bahamas just offered me a comped month to document my stay, try all the restaurants, the total works. All on them. Can you believe it?” I’m squealing. Definitely.
“Oh, honey, that’s nice, but what about your bills? Your rent? You can’t just take off for a whole month. You’re barely making ends meet now.”
She has a point, not that I’d admit that.
I sit back on the couch, this time not popping right back up as a bit of the excitement deflates from me.
“I’ll figure it out,” I say softly.
“I’m sure you will,” she says, not bothering to hide the doubt in her tone. “I just want you to be realistic about it. You can’t make a living by blogging about your travels, sweetheart.”
I want nothing more than to prove her wrong.
I’ve always loved travel, and I had this wild idea my junior year in college to start a travel blog just for fun. My goal has always been to find ways to feel like a VIP, and that’s sort of been my angle—champagne travel on a beer budget. That’s my blog, actually—Champagne Travel: Millie’s Miles.
Sometimes I travel with friends, and other times it’s solo, but it’s always with luxury touches to make the most out of my vacations, with tips to stay within a budget.
And now, almost exactly six years after my first blog post chronicling my spring break trip to Cancún with my friends, my dreams are coming true.
I’ve always wanted to move from being a travel blogger to being a travel influencer. This is it. This is my chance at the real dream: a paid partnership.
“Yes, I can,” I say softly. “I’m going to prove it to you. The resort manager mentioned that pending my performance, there could be opportunities for paid partnerships at the end of my stay. So yes, Mom, I can make money doing this.”
I leave out the actual amount of work it’s going to take to make that happen. It’s not just about documenting what amenities the resort has. It’s about market research, algorithms, building audience trust, and contractual obligations.
“I’ve always loved your confidence,” she says.
I remember once a few years ago my father made a comment to me that my parents built me up too much when I was a kid. They gave me too much confidence.
It felt like an insult. A backhanded compliment.
But I’m going to show them that my confidence is valid because I can do anything I set out to do. I’ll show them.
“Thanks. I need to run to work. Talk to you soon.” I hang up and pull open my email, and I spot the contract in there from Paradise Island Resort.
I scan the document as the excitement wanes and the reality plows into me.
It’s not exactly a free vacation for a month as it was sold to me over the phone.
There’s an extensive laundry list of expectations, starting with two to four static posts a week on Instagram with daily stories discussing my activities.
TikTok, YouTube, the works. I’ll need to tag the resort in every post, use their hashtags, and cross-post on other platforms.
And what am I supposed to post? Anything that makes the resort look good.
Over the thirty days, they’ll have me try out the different towers.
They want me to eat in all forty restaurants and talk about the strong drinks.
They want me to try the excursions and attend resort activities and curate my photos to show them in the best light.
And they want me to show how it’s affordable for everyone, which might be the biggest challenge of all since I’m being comped this entire trip.
Finding content won’t be a problem, but I have to align the resort’s expectations with what my audience expects from me. It will mean late nights editing when I’d rather be wrapped in the luxurious hotel sheets or having a drink at the bar as I chat up some handsome stranger.
But my mom was right about one thing.
I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to make ends meet when I’m off on my monthlong luxury adventure.
I hop in my Kia Sportage that’s a decade old but still plenty reliable, and I head to one of my part-time jobs that helps me make those ends meet.
The vacation sounds great, but I’m being paid in resort credit, not in cash. And that’s the reality that has me all the way deflated as I walk into Renegade’s Bar and Grille at four in the afternoon to start my swing shift.
“Hey, Mills,” Mike Chipford, the bar manager, says.
“Hey, Chip.” Everyone at the bar calls him that. The only ones who ever call him Mike are his wife and maybe his mother.
“Why the long face?”
I can’t help a small laugh at our inside joke. Someone hung a picture of a horse in the break room, and one day Chip held his hand up at the photo, looked at me, and said in an overly formal voice, “Why the long face?” We always say it to each other, but today, it feels more appropriate than usual.
I let out a heavy sigh.
“That can’t be over your sidework duties,” he says.
I wrinkle my nose as my dark eyes meet his. “What did you put me on tonight?”
“Cleaning the soda gun nozzles.”
I groan. “Could you just…not?”
He chuckles. “Give me a good reason.”
I suppose saying I got offered a month in the Bahamas totally free isn’t the best excuse. I’m not sure I can take it seems a little more like it.
“Okay, okay,” he says, and he holds up both hands. “I’ll do it while you cut lemons and limes. But you have to tell me what’s going on.”
I rush into him to give him a hug. “You’re the best.”
“Now I know something’s wrong.”
We like to tease each other at work. It gets us through the long shifts along with visits from Chip’s wife, Jackie, who happens to be my best friend.
I laugh as I wash my hands, and once they’re dry, I pull out the bucket filled with lemons and limes and set to work.
“So what happened?” he asks.
“Don’t get mad at me.” I glance up, and he’s narrowing his eyes at me. I blow out a breath. “This resort called, and they want me to come stay at their property for a month. It’s totally free for me. All meals, entertainment, the works are included.”
“But…”
“But it’s in the Bahamas.” I wince as I say it, bracing for his reaction.
He whistles through his teeth. “Wow. That’s amazing, Mills. Are you taking it?”
“I want to, but I don’t know how I’ll make rent if I’m not working here all that time.”
“Could you sublet for a month?” he asks.
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t particularly want someone else sleeping in my bed for an entire month, to be honest.”
He nods. “I get that. Okay, what if you pick up more shifts here for the next month and save up?”
“I’m working thirty hours a week here already, and I’m picking up another fifteen to twenty as a substitute teacher at a preschool. I fit in content creation between all that. I’m already stretched pretty thin.”
“Then drop the subbing gig,” he suggests.
“With tips, I’m positive you’d be making more here.
I could get you on here for forty to fifty hours for the next two weeks, back it down to thirty-five, and then back up to forty.
I just can’t give you over forty more than two weeks in a row, or corporate will want to shift you to full time. ”
I wrinkle my nose again, and he reaches over and taps it playfully.
“I’ve got you covered, Mills. You know you can always come to me with anything, and I’ll help you with the solution.” He picks at the crusted syrup on one of the nozzles, and I can’t help but think that’s true. He’s a good boss, but more than that, he’s a good friend.
“Will you be okay for an entire month with me gone?” I ask.
He sprays some water out of the nozzle. “Nope. I’ll be counting down the days until your return. Maybe Jackie and I can come visit you and mooch off the freebies while you’re down there.”
I laugh, but the truth is, I’m looking forward to an entire month on my own at one of the most luxurious resorts the Bahamas has to offer…even if it isn’t going to be the relaxing vacation it first sounded like.
The countdown is on. Two months until my dreams start coming true.
* * *
Start the brADLEY LEGACY at the beginning with MAD RIVALS!
A steamy Pro Football, Business Rivals, Enemies to Lovers Romance from Top Ten Bestselling author Lisa Suzanne.
Pro football legend Madden Bradley was never supposed to be anything but my enemy. With one season left on his contract, he’s set to take over his family’s empire, and I’m his business rival. Forced into a partnership we both resent, the last place I should be is tangled in his sheets.
Now we’re stuck working together, and the more we clash, the more explosive the tension becomes…until it finally detonates.
He’s maddening, charming, and completely addictive. And when he murmurs exactly what he’s going to do to me, I forget that he’s supposed to be the enemy.
Our forbidden romance has to stay between us. Our families can’t find out. Our companies can’t know. The truth could destroy everything we’ve worked for.
But when we discover a buried secret together, Madden faces an impossible choice:
The legacy he was born to lead… or the woman he was never supposed to fall for.
* * *
All caught up with the Bradley family? Start my Vegas Aces world at the beginning with HOME GAME!
Getting fired and dumped in the same thirty seconds makes for a pretty bad Tuesday. But by Thursday, I’ll be in Vegas celebrating my brother’s wedding. Since I could use a fresh start, he offers me a place to stay with a buddy of his.
At the bachelorette party, a raunchy game results in a quest to find me a one-night stand. When a hunk with dark blue eyes and perfect bone structure hits me with a silly line at the bar, my mission is complete.
I vow to move on from our steamy night as I head to the rehearsal dinner, certain one of my brother’s hot pro football player groomsmen will be my Prince Charming.
Then the best man turns around. Dark blue eyes. Perfect bone structure. A body I won’t soon forget.
And apparently my new roommate.