Page 40 of Clock Strikes Paradise

“So,” Camille said once we were settled, “What did that creep say to you?”

I hesitated, then the words tumbled out. All of them. Every disgusting, terrifying thing he’d said

Camille's eyes flashed with anger. “That slimy, arrogant...” She took a long, cleansing breath. “Elise, honey, don't listen to him. That guy wouldn't recognize genuine attraction if it slapped him across that smug, French face of his.”

My heart hardened, and I could imagine armor plating encircling it as I shook my head. “I learned to keep my head firmly on my shoulders growing up. In just a few days, I seem to have completely abandoned that. Laurent might be a Grade-A asshole, but I can’t deny what he said makes sense. Clay could have anyone. Why would he choose me?”

Monica leaned forward, her voice soft but firm. “You understand him, don’t you? Camille was just telling me that you’re the only assistant who hasn’t quit—he sounds like he appreciates a strong woman.”

Camille nodded emphatically. “Exactly. I've known Clay for years, and he’s different this trip. Nate keeps remarking on it.”

Their words were comforting but doubt still gnawed at me. “I just... I don't know if I can trust this. It all seems too good to be true.”

Camille's expression softened. “I know the feeling. Love often does.” She took a drink of the Calypso Breeze. “And my farfetched romance with Nate worked out, didn’t it?”

I shook my head, refusing to be soothed. “But Nate's a very different kind of man than Clay, isn't he?”

Camille hesitated, then sighed. “You're right, they'revery different. Nate was a notorious playboy before he met me, but that was never him. It was more of a cry for help—he just wanted someone to accept him.”

“Clay just assumes the world does what he wants!” I hissed, trying not to raise my voice. “I don’t think he even knows the word unsure.”

Monica cocked her head. “Are you sure about that? Maybe he’s afraid to let anyone get too close. We all talk about how incredible it would be to be extremely wealthy, but I’m sure it comes with its fair share of problems too.”

I sighed. I’d known Clay for three years, and what I’d glimpsed in the last few days contrasted drastically with the man I’d come to know. But which was the real Clay Harmon? “Guys, it’s not just a broken heart we’re discussing here. I could be jeopardizing my entire career.”

Camille’s supportive smile vanished. “That is definitely something I never had to worry about. And it’s an extremely valid point.”

I inhaled a lungful of air and placed my hands flat on the table. “I’m taking an insane risk here. He’s not. We were even discussing promotions for me—because I’ve earned it, not because I’m his… whatever. If I walk this back now, I can probably salvage everything. But if I just give in to my heart and let things work out, I could lose it all.”

Monica reached over and patted my hand. “Or gain everything you’ve ever dreamed of. But only you can decide that. I've seen more budding romances here than I can count. Some flourish, some wither. But the ones meant to be? They find a way, against all odds. Trust your heart, Elise. It knows the truth, even when your mind doubts.”

I slid my chair back and stood. “Thanks, you two. You rescued me at just the right moment, but I think I’ll head back now.” I met Camille’s eyes. “I really like seeing youand Nate together. It’s obvious you’re perfect for each other. But the situation with Clay and me is so, so different. This is real life, Camille. I’m not Cinderella, and there’s no glass slippers in sight.”

As I walkedwith wooden steps, the path back to the cottage stretched before me. Each step was heavy with trepidation as Laurent’s taunts ricocheted off the inside of my skull.

A pretty little toy. A fleeting fancy.

As much as I wanted to dismiss his words, they echoed my own fears. I couldn’t deny the growing feelings I had for Clay, but I was also terrified he didn’t share them. We had a connection—that was undeniable. But there was a giant, yawning gulf between connection and love.

I felt so stupid.

How could I have allowed myself to become involved with him, risking my career in the process? And worse, it was much more than physical. I’d fallen for him—in just a few days! Then I stopped in my tracks and exhaled a deep, long, miserable sigh.

“Time to be honest with yourself. Own up to it.” I trudged on, my steps leaden.

I’d been half in love with Clay Harmon for years, despite his cool aloofness at work. Despite his icy reserve. Hell, that was half the attraction—he was so unattainable! Therefore, it was completely safe to worship him from afar.

Here in this heady, sultry tropical paradise with him, it hadn’t taken much to tip my poor heart over the edge.

I paused at the cottage door, my hand hovering over the knob. Clay’s cottage, not mine. I was merely a guest. For the first time in my life, I wanted to believe thefairy tale! I wanted Prince Charming to sweep me away. Was I making a mistake in deciding to pull back from the precipice?

After opening the door, I entered and crossed the floor into my bedroom. My eye fell on the angel on my dresser. After shutting the door, I marched over and picked it up—maybe this figurine I’d carried around for years would help guide me. It was warm in my hand, familiar. A very hard lesson I’d learned at an early age. Was I in the process of learning another one? But Clay and I were so good together! More similar than I’d ever imagined.

As I transferred the angel to my other hand, it slipped.

I gasped as it hit the marble floor and cracked into half a dozen pieces. Broken.

A sob escaped me as I stared down at the empty promise. The reminder that I couldn’t afford to believe in tall tales. The sweet angel who had one final lesson to teach me. With tears sliding down my face, I raised my eyes to the shut door.