Chapter 18
Angela
The trip to Bliss, South Carolina is an easy one. A quick flight, a short drive, and tada!
Here I am!
The town is adorable. It’s small, right on the coast, and the perfect blend of quaint and serene.
Tourists have yet to discover it, so The Hut will be the first and only hotel here, which serves our mission statement ridiculously well.
People don’t come to the Hutton Hotel for tourist trap stuff.
They come to rest. To recharge. To focus on their emotional, physical, and spiritual health and be pampered while they heal from the stress of our purposeless contemporary lives.
The great thing about Bliss is that if our guests do choose to venture off the resort, they’ll find plenty to keep them occupied.
From casual coffee shops and bars, to a luxurious restaurant called Harrison’s right on the water, to a skydiving facility a few miles outside town for any adrenaline junkies who might book a stay with us, Bliss has something for everyone.
As I pull my rental car to a stop in front of a sprawling stretch of beach, I’m struck yet again by how perfect the area is.
It’s a one-in-a-million blend of away from it all and modern conveniences.
The location for our new hotel is set back from the main road, following a long drive through lush black oaks. When the road ends, the trees open up, offering a stunning view of the ocean. Waves serenely lap the beach. Palms bend in the breeze. Sunlight sparkles over the water.
It feels like a little slice of paradise and this…
I inhale deeply, closing my eyes and taking it all in.
…this spot is the beginning of our future.
I know it.
I feel it.
Deep down in my gut.
This is right.
This is what the business needs to take that next step forward.
“This is where it all begins,” I whisper, holding my hair out of my face as it catches in the wind.
A car rolls to a stop beside me and I glance over as Garrett kills the engine and climbs out. He looks fine as fuck in a dark blue button-down. The shirtsleeves hug his arms and chest, highlighting everything I imagined while touching myself for him a few days ago.
I’m nervous. How are we supposed to handle ourselves? Do we ignore what we did? Put it behind us never to be talked about again? Or will things be different now? They feel different for me, but maybe this is just another day in the life for a man like him.
Garrett approaches and I lift a hand with a smile. “Hey.”
He dips his head in my direction and folds his arms over his chest, taking in our surroundings. Sunlight glints in his hair, illuminating streaks of gold I hadn’t noticed before. “This is good,” he says, nodding. “I like it.”
Okay then. We’re gonna ignore what we did. I can get behind that.
“I’m glad you think so.” I stand beside him, mimicking his posture as I survey the area.
“This expansion could end up better than our original location. We broke ground with a plan here and know what we want the finished product to look like. The one at home is chaotic because it started out as just that…a home. The rest is history. A very successful history that’s only getting better with time. ”
That feeling of legacy sweeps over me again, the one that makes me heady and dreamy. The one that makes me certain I’m doing the right thing—not just for me, not just for the family, but for everyone who meets us. This is what I was made for.
Garrett looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You mean successful save for the hiccup of not having enough money to complete the project without my assistance.”
“A hiccup’s a hiccup, right? A short annoyance that’s over as soon as it starts.
” I smile because damn it, why not? Being here makes me feel like I’m swimming in possibility, like the future I’ve dreamed of has finally arrived.
“I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to give me the money.
You wouldn’t be here otherwise. My little setback is over, and things can only get better from now on. ”
Garrett turns his focus to the horizon, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. “Do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
He arches a brow, a hint of a smile lifting his lips. “Ignore reality to focus on the positive.”
“How am I ignoring reality? You saw the projections. This?” I gesture around the area. “This is nothing but good.”
“Once I give you the money.”
I nod. “Once you give me the money.”
“You and I have very different views on reality. You look around and see ‘nothing but good.’ I see a project that failed before it got off the ground.”
“But that’s the thing.” My voice rises in excitement. “It didn’t fail. It stalled. Things happen and we can label them as ‘bad,’ or we can label them as ‘opportunity.’ My parents always taught me that everything in life comes down to mindset.”
Garrett slides his hands into his pockets, regarding me with curiosity. “And this financially devastating pickle you find yourself in. You see it as an opportunity?”
“One hundred percent,” I say with determination. “The original investors? They were wrong for us. For me. But you? This? This feels right, you know? We stalled for a reason. To bring you and me together.”
Shit.
That could one hundred percent be taken the wrong way.
“And the family of course,” I add quickly. “All of us. Not just…you know…you and me.”
Garrett stares for a long minute before bobbing his head and looking away.
Relief softens my posture. He could have called me on that verbal blunder but didn’t.
Working together might actually be as easy as he promised. We’ll just…talk about business and ignore all the other stuff.
Look at me go, having a casual sexual encounter and not letting it turn into A Thing.
“For the record—” Garret folds his arms over his chest “—the chaos of the original hotel is part of its charm. I suggest you replicate it here. The only changes I’d make would be to put your highest margin features in the center of the chaos.
Like they do in casinos. If guests are walking past the onsite bar and restaurant, or the luxury massage suite fourteen times a day on their way to and from everything else…
” He levels me with a knowing look as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“You'll double your profits from those segments within six months.”
“Smart.”
“That’s what I do.” Frowning, Garrett stares at his screen.
“Sorry. One sec. Business.” His thumbs tap, tap, tap away as his jaw pulses.
He looks so serious, so intense, I try to imagine him joking, or being silly, or doing something ridiculous just for the fun of it and I can’t.
It’s like a peanut butter and orange slice sandwich. Some things just don’t go together.
Garrett finishes his text and slides his phone back in his pocket. “Now come on. Show me what’s been done and talk me through what’s left.”
“You can see what’s been done.” I wave a hand around the site. “This is everything.”
“This hole? That’s it?” Garrett lifts a brow and huffs a laugh.
“Clearly, we didn’t get very far. We basically paid a fortune to drive a construction crew out and dig the foundation, then the economy went south, the investment company disappeared, and we had to pull the plug.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to ask.” Garrett pinches the bridge of his nose. Everything about him oozes judgment and frustration. “If this is all you’ve done, why are we even here? There’s nothing for me to see. We could have covered all this before I left the Keys.”
But we couldn’t cover it all. Some things you have to experience to understand. I could show him all the pictures in the world, but they couldn’t convey how it feels to stand here, in this perfect spot, and know.
“There’s plenty for you to see,” I say. “This town. This site. You can’t tell me you don’t feel that.”
“Feel what?” Garrett shades his eyes with a hand as he surveys the area.
How can he not instantly know what I’m talking about? I’m surprised I have to explain it, although I shouldn’t be. Everything about the man screams “practical and not into listening to subtle inspiration.”
“That…I don’t know if there’s even a word for it. This sense of…right. Of good. Of, you know, magic.”
The arch to Garrett’s eyebrow says I just lost about a thousand cool points. “Magic?”
“Yes, Mr. Serious. Magic. Humor me for a second and hear me out.” I step onto the broken ground, talking as I point out the general locations for the main building and the private bungalows.
“We thought we’d add a dedicated meditation hall here.
And the open-air massage stations have been a hit back home.
They’d go there.” I wave a hand to my left, not looking where I’m going, and stumble over a rock.
With a gasp, I brace to go down, but Garrett catches me, his steadying hands on my back and arm, his touch sending a shuddering jolt of “Oh shit, he is so not out of my system!” through my veins.
But why?
Why is he still in there?
He’s been completely professional since he arrived.
He’s done nothing to indicate he wants anything to do with me outside of business and I have to wonder why I don’t feel the same.
Garrett and I have nothing in common. We live in different states.
He’s all about casual distractions and I’m looking for a serious connection—and I’m not even looking.
Not while the hotel requires my attention.
For all that to add up to me still wanting him makes me feel small. Powerful women don’t lust after bad matches.
“Careful now,” Garrett murmurs, his eyes dark and hooded as they lock on mine. “You okay? You didn’t twist an ankle, did you?”
His attention darts to my mouth and back again. His hands linger longer than a professional relationship should allow. Maybe I’m not the only one struggling to ignore whatever this is.
“I’m good.” Carefully, I step out of his arms and shake my head, laughing. “Sorry about that. Clumsy me.”
But I’m not sorry. Not at all. I want to orchestrate a hundred new reasons to fall and have him catch me. I’ll be a klutz if it makes him touch me. I’ll swoon like an eighteenth-century debutante if that gets me into his arms.
I let out a long sigh, inwardly rolling my eyes. Instead of a mental debate on the merits of swooning, I’m better off keeping things professional and congratulating myself on not turning this into A Thing.
“I think that’s all the magic I need to see.” Garrett bobs his head, his face maddeningly inscrutable. “You feel like you can make your way back to the cars safely, or do I need to carry you?”
I laugh. “I think I can make it.”
“Suit yourself,” he replies with a scowl.
Still, he places a hand on the small of my back to steady me and it’s a miracle I don’t fall flat on my face because that one point of contact is all I can focus on.
His touch sends a surge of “Thank you for calling me a good girl.” through me and I bite my lip, fighting a smile and dropping my gaze to my feet so he can’t see me blush.