“Not at all. Rafe wants to quickly, quietly learn about the resort. You’re there to help. It makes good business sense to keep the two of you close.”
Tough to argue against good business sense, but equally tough to disregard the way her stomach quivered at the thought of all the closeness. She hadn’t heard from him since the evening at his suite, when she’d walked away with her body on fire and the sound of his surprised laughter ringing in her ears. The next morning a gift box had arrived at her desk, with a card that read, “Two of the three ingredients in my new favorite drink,” and was signed, simply, Rafe. Only when she held a bottle of Rhum Clement in one hand and a bottle of Coke in the other did she realize she was part of the recipe.
At the time, the gift had amused her—a strangely gracious acknowledgment of her recent victory in their little game—but now the amusement faded. The play would resume soon, on a much more advanced field, and, most concerning, she wasn’t entirely sure how she defined a win anymore. Still, she’d have the home court advantage. Rafe might challenge whatever lines she drew, but he wouldn’t cross them. His win involved enticing her to violate her own boundaries.
“I guess I could.”
“Excellent. This simplifies things. I should let you go, enjoy your last Friday night of freedom for a while. Do you have any plans?”
Chelsea glanced at the email from Lynette. “I’ve got a few more things to do.”
“Don’t stay too late. Remember, we specialize in creating exciting vacations for singles. I could argue your job includes getting out of your office now and then to experience what it’s like to be young and single.”
“Maybe tomorrow night,” Chelsea hedged.
“When we interviewed, you mentioned you liked to sail.”
“I did. I do.”
“Well…my nephew is finishing his final year of residency at Maui Memorial Medical Center in Wailuki.”
“In allergy, by any chance?”
“Emergency medicine. Why?”
“No reason,” she said, and typed “allergist” into Yelp.
“Nick keeps a Capri at the marina and can always use a sailing partner. I’d be happy to see what he’s up to this evening. He’s such a nice boy.”
Wait. Was her sweet old boss trying to set her up on a date?
Yelp came back with two local allergists, one with an after-hours number. Feeling pathetic, she scribbled it down. “I appreciate the offer, but—”
“But I’m a busybody.” Evelyn laughed. “I know. I can’t help myself. Anyway, it’s a standing offer. Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will. Have a good weekend. And thank you.”
“Thank you, Chelsea. I’ll talk to you soon.”
After arranging a house call, or rather, hotel call, for Mr. Johnson with the local allergist, she sat for a moment, contemplating the empty apartment waiting for her tonight. She didn’t want to go home. More to the point, the apartment didn’t feel like home. It felt like a vacation rental. A small, lonely vacation rental.
If you didn’t want to be alone, you should’ve copped to the fact that you suck at being single, and taken Evelyn up on her offer to put you in touch with her nephew.
But she hadn’t, because she didn’t feel like going out either. Pasting a smile on her face and making small talk with a stranger required more social stamina than she could manage tonight. Impatient with her mood, she grabbed her purse and headed to the lobby. She was off the clock until Sunday, and had a perfectly good villa at her disposal. A sane woman would enjoy every moment of that perk, starting tonight. If she hurried, she could make it to her place, pack, and drive back in time to watch the stars come out from the comfort of a lounge chair on the deck of House of Water. She swung by the reception desk, wished the staff on duty a good night, and coded herself a key. On a whim, she added a key for House of Sun. No harm taking a peek in Rafe’s villa, just to make sure everything was in order. She’d do that before she headed out, and then she could call in any requests or housekeeping instructions while she drove to her apartment.
Moments later she swiped the key card through the reader at the door of the big villa and let herself into an enclave of luxury. Late afternoon sun poured into the space from entryway skylights and the retractable glass doors comprising the back wall. Interior colors and textures harmonized with those offered by nature—golden sand tones, watery blues, lush greens to rival the surrounding vegetation. The big doors framed an endless view of ocean and sky.
Thinking she’d text a picture to Laurie, she put her purse on the narrow table backing an extra long sofa, and pulled out her phone. Her heels clicked across the hand-scraped hardwood floors. When she reached the sliding door, she opened it, closed her eyes and let the breeze dance across her face, bringing the scent of plumeria with it.
Not too shabby. Even for a man accustomed to the best money could buy.
The phone vibrated in her hand. Caller ID read Las Ventanas. Paul? Cindy? Her stomach clenched, even as she told herself neither of them would still be at work on a Friday night.
“Hello?” Dread made her voice more tentative than she would have liked.
“Is my villa ready?”
Rafe heard Chelsea’s quick, surprised inhale and grinned for the first time in days. He leaned back in his chair and felt the knotted muscles in his neck relax. Man wasn’t cut out to spend hours hunched over a desk, but he had a fuckload of integration plans to approve before he left for Maui, and he couldn’t rely on Barrington to do anything.