I bristled at his probing, feeling strangely defensive. “It’s my job to manage the resort’s finances. I was just doing what needed to be done.”
Eli’s gaze was warm, curious. “You care about the staff, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to retreat behind my usual walls. “Of course. They’re good people. They deserve better than what we can offer right now. What I can offer them.”
A small smile played at the corners of Eli’s lips. “Sounds like there’s more to Jules Verne than just spreadsheets and budget reports.”
I hesitated, my heart pounding. This wasn’t me—sharing personal thoughts, especially with Eli, of all people. But something in his gentle probing made me want to explain.
“I don’t like… the attention,” I confessed. The admission surprised even me. I rarely acknowledged my own discomfort with vulnerability.
Eli cocked his head, his indigo eyes thoughtful. “The attention?”
I took a long breath of the sultry air, running a hand over my loose tresses. “When people make a big deal out of, uh, kindness. It’s uncomfortable. I-I just…” I struggled tofind the right words. “I don’t want people to see me as soft.”
Eli’s brow furrowed. “And that would be bad because…?”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “Because soft gets you hurt. Soft doesn’t keep a struggling resort afloat.”
The words hung in the air between us. I realized I was giving Eli a glimpse behind my carefully constructed persona—the meticulous accountant, the by-the-books professional. And I wasn’t at all sure that was a good idea.
“Plus,” I added, “I felt guilty about approving those new dive computers for you when we’re facing staff cuts. It didn’t seem fair. And adding a new desktop for myself was just the cherry on top. Delaying my new computer was an easy decision.”
Eli’s eyes widened, a flash of—was that admiration?—sweeping across his face. “I had no idea that side of you even existed.”
I shrugged. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Eli.”
“I agree.” The moonlight caught the curve of his jaw as he nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting. I smiled back, warmth blooming in my chest that I couldn’t squash.
“Guess that goes both ways,” I said as we strolled under the pink canopy of Sweet Dreams Bakery. “You’ve got more depth than I gave you credit for.”
Eli’s smile widened, but before he could respond, I forged ahead, desperate to regain some semblance of control over the conversation. And my emotions. “Look, I know my approach to life and work can be rigid. It keeps people at a distance, but that’s kind of the point.”
“What is?”
I took a deep breath. “I’ve learned the hard way that emotions can be a liability. Logic and order? Those arethings you can count on in this world. A math problem always has the same solution.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I know how it sounds. The accountant finding comfort in spreadsheets and financial projections. But that control? It’s a hell of a lot safer than the alternative.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to snatch them back. I was sure a patented Eli Coleridge zinger was about to come my way.
I was wrong.
Eli’s expression softened, his smile fading. “I get what you’re saying. We all have our ways of dealing with… stuff.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I’d seen a hundred times before, but now it seemed different. Vulnerable, almost. “Mine is humor.”
My breath caught. There was a depth to his words, a hint of old pain that resonated with my own.
“Humor, huh?”
“Yeah.” He laughed, but it lacked his usual easy sound. “Crack a joke, deflect with a witty one-liner. It’s easier than facing things head-on sometimes, you know?”
I nodded mutely, shocked at the admissions both of us were giving tonight. At how honest they were. And how similar.
“But I’m glad I got to see the real Jules tonight,” he added, his gaze softening even further.
“And I’m glad I got to see the real Eli. Bar fight and all.”
He held up a finger. “Nearbar fight. The guy slinked off, remember?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” I sighed. “That was a good example of why I stay away from men. I seem to attract troublemakers.”
