The thing I care most about right now is getting my career started. Forging a path for myself, chasing my dreams, accomplishing my goals. That’s what I want to focus on. If I can include Sebastian in there somewhere, even better. But mainly,I’m more than ready to step into the world as a self-sufficient adult. I don’t need my mother hovering over my shoulder, trying to plan out a life for me just because she thinks I’ll be happy, healthy, and safe with a trophy husband and a nice house and a fat bank account. Security isn’t the be-all, end-all for me.
I want more.
I worked damn hard to earn my degree, and I love what I studied. I'm eager to step out on my own now. I'll never be satisfied or fulfilled living a purely domestic life. My mom is just going to have to find a way to accept that.
After I finish my breakfast, I go back into the room and trade my bathrobe for a bathing suit and sheer coverup dress. Then I put on a little makeup, grab my sunscreen, and dig around in my suitcase looking for a book to take down to the beach. I figure I can get an hour or two of lounging in before my parents hunt me down. At first, I pull out a women’s fiction novel. It’s the perfect vacation book, about three generations of a quirky New England family who come together for one final summer at their lakefront cabin. But I’m in the mood for something else. Something…empowering.
I set the novel aside and grab a non-fiction book on women in leadership roles instead. One of my professors at NYU recommended it to me. It’s exactly what I want to read. It ismyvacation, after all.
As I take the elevator down to the first floor, a smile tugs at my lips. Because after twenty-two years, I’ve finally hit my rebellion-against-my-parents stage.
And now it’s time to do things my way.
19
SEBASTIAN
Steppinginto the lobby this morning was like entering a different world. With the start of the Junkanoo festival tomorrow, an influx of new guests has infiltrated every available space in the resort, including the café, bars, and restaurants. Not to mention the private beach and the pools. All great for business, of course, but it means an end to the relative quiet that I had enjoyed last week when I only had a handful of guests to manage. This is officially the start of our high season.
Even worse, my partners are here for the next forty-eight hours. My stress is through the roof.
I’m at one of the pools with Becker, Theo, Nate, and Nate’s baby sister Eliza, who just graduated from her heinously expensive private high school on the Upper West Side. We’re supposed to be having a business chat while Eliza enjoys the pool, but we’re not getting much accomplished with all the guests milling around and Nate pacing around in circles while he blabs away on some private call.
Not that I’m surprised at our lack of productivity. We all know the real reason my partners flew here is to enjoy the Junkanoo, as they do every year. Calling this a business trip is just an excuse to get a tax write-off for their mini vacation.Meanwhile, I’m the only one of us who actually has to work. I’m the one running the resort, after all.
People-watching behind my sunglasses, I recognize married couples that I’ve arranged in prior years, unmarried couples I’ve worked with who are enjoying long- and short-term situationships, past and present clients and their families. It’s no wonder we’re so booked. Once a client has retained our services, they’re officially a member of the resort, so they’re eligible to book a stay depending on availability. And people love to come back, year after year. Who wouldn’t? We provide a peerless luxury experience that transports our guests to a haven of indulgence. Violinists to play for you and your partner while you dine on your private balcony. Horseback rides on the beach at dawn or dusk. Twenty-four-hour car service, room service, spa service. Your wish is our command.
Not only that, but the happy matches we’ve made have resulted in the kind of brand loyalty that money can’t buy. And yet…the clear evidence of all those happy matches doesn’t sit well with me today. Because when I think about Blair, I can’t ignore the pang of guilt in my gut. As long as I keep fucking her, I’m putting her match—and the entire business—at risk.
But no matter how much I try to keep away from her, I haven’t been able to stop myself from sampling the goods, over and over and over again. And she’s not just any client, she’s a bachelorette. The whole point of her being here, albeit unbeknownst to her, is for her to be matched to someone else.
Maybe it would be forgivable if I’d only been with her once, but I’m in way too deep for that. Sleeping with a woman on deck to be auctioned for marriage is totally taboo, and I can’t even get myself off the hook by explaining that it was initially a case of mistaken identity. Because the second I found out that Sunshine was Blair Tisdale, I should have called Becker and told him everything, flown back to NYC and removed myself from theTisdale match purely due to my conflict of interest. Instead, I’ve kept the whole affair under wraps.
I know what I’m doing is wrong.
And I still keep doing it.
I glance over at Becker, who is busy ordering all of us a round of drinks from one of the pool bar’s cocktail waitresses. Theo eyes me curiously from his lounge chair on Becker’s other side. He gets up and moves to sit next to me in Nate’s empty chair. I try not to tense up. Theo would have my hide if he found out I was gambling the Tisdale commission by sleeping with their daughter.
I nod as he gives me an inquiring stare. “What’s up, Theo?”
“You keeping an eye on all the MILFs from your little corner over here?”
“You’re funny.”
He raises a brow. “I see one that’s exactly your type in the cabana by the towel station.”
My stomach drops, and I follow his gaze, expecting to see Blair with her parents. But instead, it’s a woman in her early forties, with dark, silky hair and deep brown eyes. She has the full lips and high cheekbones of a model, and Theo is right—she does look like my type. Or what used to be my type. Not anymore, though. As gorgeous as the woman is, she’s just not doing it for me.
“Hot damn,” I say, going along with it just for the optics. “Too bad there’s a rule about fraternizing with the guests.” If only he knew how ironic that comment was, coming from me.
Becker turns to face us and cuts in with a change of subject that I’m grateful for.
“Who is Nate talking to?” He tilts his head in Nate’s direction.
“No clue, but he’s been on that call for a while now,” Theo says.
“Probably sweet talking some new client, if I had to guess,” I add. “Must be a heavy hitter if he’s blowing off our meeting for the call.”
