Chapter 2
Sarah
Sarah Barnes looked out at the Atlantic from her office on the fourth floor of the Carlson Seaside Resort and undid the top button of her blouse.
It was the first week of March, but the heat was already building.
“I simply don’t understand the resistance.” He had that tone older men perfected, the one that suggested disagreement was really just confusion that would clear up once you understood things properly. “We’ve arranged for additional support during your busiest season. You should be grateful.”
Sarah kept her smile pleasant. “I appreciate the board’s concern, but we have spring break under control. Our events are planned, staff is trained, everything’s in place.”
“Nevertheless, Miss Wakefield will be joining you as an intern. She’ll assist with event review and coordination.” Peter adjusted his cufflinks. “The decision has been made.”
“Of course.” Sarah reached for the file folder he’d brought. Classic Peter. Why send an email with a PDF attached when you could go through the trouble of printing? “I’ll make sure she’s oriented properly.”
Peter stood, clearly considering the matter settled. “Excellent. I’m sure you’ll find her quite capable. And it never hurts to have a younger eye on the proceedings, after all, it has been a bit since you went to college.” He frowned. “You did go to college, right? I can’t remember.”
To her relief, the phone rang then and he slipped out, leaving the door open. She sent the call to voice mail and sat down.
Sarah opened the folder and scanned the paperwork. Lizzie Wakefield. Twenty-two, English major, part-time bakery worker, scholarship student.
She didn’t sound terribly well suited for the intern position. A position she’d already had someone in mind for, mind you. Then, she saw it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.
“Talking to yourself again?”
Sarah looked up. Carlos Martinez leaned in the doorway, grinning. He was in his work clothes, cargo pants and a Carlson polo, tool belt slung low on his hips.
“Peter Lassiter just left.”
“I saw. What did they want this time?”
Sarah tossed the folder across the desk. “They’ve filled my intern position. Take a look at the emergency contact.”
Carlos picked up the folder and his eyebrows rose. “Jasper Bennet? Our supplier?”
“Yup. That’s his stepdaughter. He used to joke how funny it would have been if he had officially adopted his step kids, because his stepdaughter’s name is Elizabeth.”
Carlos stared at her without a hint of comprehension.
“Her name would have been Elizabeth Bennet. From Pride and Prejudice,” she added.
Carlos added a shrug to his posture.
“The novel by Jane Austen. Esme and I made you watch the mini-series last year and you groaned the entire time.”
“Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “The one with the fellow who dives into a lake at just the right moment to show off his chest. Heathcliff.”
She was ready to throw her mug at him. “That’s a different book, but yes. Mr. Darcy.”
“Oohhh Mr. Darcy,” he said in a sing song voice.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to suggest to Esme that you guys should dress up as Elizabeth and Darcy for Fantasy Fest.”
That sobered him right up.
“Don’t do that. I only just talked her out of making me dress up as King Arthur.”
The two grinned at one another. They had been friends for years now. Carlos had been a bell hop at the first hotel she’d ever worked at, and they’d supported one another ever since.
His wife rounded out their trio. It had been Esme who’d suggested Key West as a location for one of their hotels years ago, and Billy had fallen in love with the place on their first scouting mission.
“So, what are you thinking? About Miss Wakefield.”
She shrugged. “I think it’s ironic that the board is pushing her on me…given they accuse me of only being where I am thanks to nepotism.”
“And especially given the bubba culture here. The irony is beautiful.”
“Isn’t it?” Sarah rubbed her temples. “I love this town.”
“You actually do love this town. Just not the politics.”
“That’s true.” She adored Key West. Mostly because Billy had adored it, but she hated the culture.
If you weren’t a native, a so called ‘conch’, you were never truly part of things.
You were eyed with suspicion. And she was not only not a conch, but she was also a woman who had been married to a much older man who’d helped her achieve her position.
Never mind the fact that she’d helped him build his empire.
Carlos laughed. “For what it’s worth, I can’t really complain about nepotism. I only got maintenance supervisor because you hired me.”
“You got maintenance supervisor because you’re good at your job. You ran the maintenance department in Aspen for years before we came here.”
“I’m also your best friend.”
She sighed. “Fine. Yes. I hired you because I trust you and I needed at least one person here who wasn’t reporting my every move back to the board. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” He stretched his legs out. “How’s everything going with the court stuff?”
The question made her shoulders tense. “Slower than molasses. Jonathan’s lawyers are creative, I’ll give them that.”
“Still claiming you manipulated Billy?”
“Still claiming I seduced and manipulated a vulnerable elderly man into cutting out his beloved son and setting up a trust that gives me control of his entire empire. Never mind that fact that Billy was fifty-three when we met and had just competed in the Iron Man.”
“His case is weak though, right?”
“Yes, but until it’s thrown out of court, I’m spinning. I can’t take control of the estate. It’s lucky I was GM of this property before Billy died and it’s separate from the trust. Although I know the board would love nothing more than to kick me to the curb and replace me with Derek.”
Derek Mitchell, the assistant GM and head of the Timeshare Department had been a thorn in her side before Billy’s death and especially now.
But he was a local, unlike her, and had many friends on the board.
Peter Lassiter especially. If it wasn’t for the board president, Stavros Andreou, she’d have a much harder time with the board, and they might have already found a way out.
Stavros, however, had been one of Billy’s close friends and had always been on her side.
Carlos frowned. “They can’t just remove you.”
“They can make my life miserable though. You know they’re all salivating and hoping Jonathan turns this around and takes over.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“No, it’s not.” She stood and walked to the window. Down below, a charter bus was pulling up to the front entrance. The doors opened and college students poured out, loud and excited, already in vacation mode. Spring break was starting early for some schools.
Carlos stood. “I should get back. Pipe issue in building C. Just wanted to check in.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
After he left, Sarah caught her reflection in the glass. Beige suit, floral blouse underneath, blonde hair pulled back in what the Carlson’s brand consultant had called an “elegant yet approachable” ponytail. She looked cheerful. Beachy. Welcoming.
She looked nothing like herself.
But this was the uniform. Billy had built the Carlson’s brand on a specific aesthetic: sophisticated casual, tropical professional, whatever marketing term they were using this quarter. Every manager dressed the part. Beige and florals and bright smiles.
She headed downstairs. The lobby was getting busy, guests checking in, families claiming pool chairs. A group of college kids clustered near the elevators, talking over each other about TikTok and Instagram and some influencer Sarah had never heard of.
She was thirty-five. Not old. But sometimes, especially in moments like this, she felt ancient.
Being married to a man thirty plus years older than her for over a decade had left their mark in more ways than one.
She wasn’t the sort to enjoy clubbing for one.
She preferred a good glass of wine and a good book.
A wave of nostalgia overcame her as she thought of the life she’d lived and how it would never be the same again.
“Sarah!” Chrisla waved from the reception desk. She was in her twenties, bright and energetic, with perfect skin and the kind of effortless beauty Sarah vaguely remembered having once. “Your intern’s here.”
Sarah turned.
The girl was standing by the front desk, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking around the lobby with wide eyes.
Tight jean shorts. Even tighter t-shirt with some band logo Sarah didn’t recognize.
Auburn hair in a messy ponytail. Long legs, freckles, a smile that lit up her whole face as she took in the resort.
Oh no.
It had been a long time since a woman had caught her eye. Even longer since she’d given in to that desire that had burned in her since she was young. It had been too risky to do so. Not when you were married to a high-profile man who needed you to play your part.
Not that Billy would have minded if she’d indulged every now and again. Still, she hadn’t. The risk of being found out had always been too big. She couldn’t do that to the man who’d lifted her out of poverty. He’d made her who she was today.
Aside from Billy, the only people who knew she was a lesbian were Carlos, Esme, and her lawyer. There might be others who suspected, but she’d never given anyone any real evidence.
And she wasn’t going to.
Still. As she looked at the girl who’d just wandered into her life, Sarah knew she was in trouble.
Because that girl? All curves and casual confidence? That girl was exactly the kind Sarah had the hardest time saying no to.