Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Guess what?
It doesn’t.
All it does is remind me of the drinks I shared with Miss Sunshine in a sunny Hawaiian office. Plus, a hundred other damnable things that shouldn’t have ever happened there.
The ATV ride after lunch.
She wrapped herself around me like a scared kitten, clinging too close with soft curves and a sweet scent rolling off her I’ll never forget.
Goddamn.
I could have driven us into the nearest brush, thrown her down, and taken her right there.
I could have sucked those little red lips she gnaws so thoughtfully raw.
I could have pushed inside her and banished her respectable stubbornness thrust by thrust.
And the long walk back to the resort through the rock garden, where she fluttered from stone to stone.
I was already so hard I could barely breathe by the time she tumbled into my arms.
It took every ounce of my willpower to break that kiss, to refrain from so many catastrophic decisions I wanted to make with her.
How do I ever see her again without remembering how she moaned?
Fuck, it was like she’d never been kissed before.
But that’s insane, of course she has.
There’s no earthly way a woman that beautiful made it to her twenties without a mile of men lined up, preening all over her.
My fingers tighten around the glass.
I already hate these imaginary hookups.
That’s where my mind is—stuck on jealousy for a woman I can never claim unless I want to blow my own career to kingdom come.
If only the chemistry on that breezy night wasn’t so real.
Still, her talent is real too. That’s more important than indulging these lizard brain desires.
She knows her shit, especially travel marketing from a fresh perspective the average marketing new hire will never comprehend.
She can help put out this fire, no question.
So why the hell did she run away?
An unpleasant thought gnaws at the back of my mind.
Maybe she’s had time to think about what happened in Lanai.
Maybe the lovely videos she posted and the glowing review of the resort there was just that.
A review of the facility and its amenities.
Not that stolen kiss with yours truly.
Maybe the chemistry is all in my head and she regrets everything.
She damn sure wasn’t eager to talk, but she definitely recognized me.
Shit.
Does she resent me for seizing her lips? For walking away and doing the annoying smart thing instead of hauling her up to my room?
We have to clear the air.
I need her talent more than I need any hard feelings about what happened on that trip, and I have to make it clear workplace boundaries will be respected this time.
I finish my drink and angrily pour another, sloshing strong brandy over my hands.
My phone buzzes on my desk. I swallow the second glass down and look at the screen.
Keenan again. Mr. Big turned you down again. He said he was just trying to be polite about the scheduling conflict. He didn’t expect you to come back with another offer. But you seem like a nice guy and he wishes you all the luck.
I rip the phone up and start mashing at the screen.
Brock: What the actual fuck? I can’t give away time at my luxury resort with transportation covered now?
Keenan: Better we don’t waste comps on folks who won’t appreciate them, IMO.
Fuck. This is bad.
I thought we still had time before top critics start shunning us like a haunted mansion.
Can you find someone else like him? Anyone from the other travel mags? I finger-punch Send.
Keenan: Working on it. I just wanted you to know where we’re at.
Brock: I know. Up shit creek with no paddle.
Keenan: Can’t disagree. Sorry.
Damn. I was hoping he would.
I’ve got marketing churning to bury the latest garbage from Chicago, I send.
Keenan: We might need a better strategy. No offense.
Brock: I know, Einstein. Any suggestions?
Keenan: Burn the shit to the ground and start over?
Growling, I throw my phone to the edge of my desk.
Drastic times. Drastic measures. Drastic anger.
I could rebrand the names of some properties as an absolute last resort.
If I did that, the negative reviews might fall off the radar, but it would also zap my entire legacy, upset my grandparents, and we’d be starting from scratch.
No.
The best defense is a good offense, especially if there’s a chance this is a coordinated smear campaign.
I just need to figure out who the hell keeps stabbing me in the back and why.
I don’t have many enemies or petty grudges beyond the usual rivalries in this business. Who would want to one-star the fuck out of me?
My phone vibrates again.
I expect another message from Keenan, but this time, it’s Vanessa.
Hi. Fyo just told me he made arrangements to have the letters delivered. Thanks! It means the world to AJ. I know he appreciates it.
There’s one thing finally going right.
Brock: It’s the least I could do. And it is. Let me know if you need anything else, I add as I hit Send.