Tonight it felt like the beginning of something she couldn’t name yet.
Tonight it felt like possibility.
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.
“This is not right, Peter,” she said. She turned to the man sitting on her couch and suppressed a groan. Peter Lassiter, 5thgeneration Key West native and perpetual thorn in her side, shrugged.
“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.
