1
SARIAH
“Oh my God, this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been!” Rivka bounces on her toes.
I smile. “It is amazing, but is it the most beautiful you’ve ever been?”
She giggles. “Well, it helps that it’s free.”
“Welcome to Paradaiso. Here are your room keys.” The concierge hands us envelopes with our names on them. “There are wrist bands, one color-coded for each day. As long as you wear the assigned color, we will charge all food and drinks on the property to your company—just make sure the waitstaff and bartenders see it.”
Rivka’s eyes grow wide. “Ohhh.”
The concierge and I chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Your company also arranged a half-day snorkeling trip for tomorrow. You’ll meet here between eleven-thirty and noon to grab the shuttle. Tonight, there’s a luau on the beach. Your tickets are in the envelope. If you require any additional amenities in your room, just call us.”
“Ladies.” A fit guy with a hard body and a sexy smile walks up to us with two fruity slushy drinks in hand. “Can I interest you in a house Mai Tai?”
“Please and thank you.” Rivka says.
I follow up with, “Please, sir, can I have another?”
We take our drinks, giggling as he throws us a flirty wink before walking away. Rivka and I turn in unison to watch him.
I grin. “We’re going to have so much fun this weekend.”
So much fun, because even though the firm paid for this vacation, and we’re here with our coworkers, I’m going to spend my weekend flirting, laughing, drinking, and hopefully fucking the memory of Tate Morvick away.
I know he’s here. As President of Taylor and Morvick, he and Braedon Taylor, our CEO, would have arrived yesterday ahead of their employees.
I’ve been with the firm for over four years. Hired as an intern straight out of college, I’ve loved every minute of working there and have no intentions of leaving any time soon. It’s small enough that there are only four or five levels between an intern and the company CEO—or President, as the case may be—which means visibility and opportunity to promote are better than at some big company where I’d be one of a hundred bucking for the next level.
Three months ago, I promoted to team lead. Next is the department head. And then, well, by then I’ll be looking at joining the sales team or moving to another firm. But that’s years away, and for now, I’m enjoying working for a firm that also springs for tropical retreats.
Also, three months ago, Tate came to our department looking for support to close on a client. My boss wasn’t available to travel and suggested to me. Although we’d met briefly before—on the company retreat to the Bahamas—Tate and I had never really talked, but there was something there the moment our eyes connected. He’d unabashedly looked me up and down—a complete HR violation—and then told me I was perfect.
“The client is an old curmudgeon with a shit ton of money and no style. If I arrive with you on my team, he might actually pay attention, and we’ll win this campaign.”
“You want me to accompany you as eye candy?”
“I promise to never use your youth or sex appeal to gain a client again. Besides, I know you’re the one who pitched the campaign idea in the first place, and you know it better than anyone.”
“You know that?”
“I know more about you than you think, Sariah. Are you on board?”
I should have said no. I should have known between his handsome face and devilish smile that I’d be in trouble if I got in his town car, much less his bed later that night. But I didn’t say no to any of it, and the memories of his mouth, tongue, and incredible cock will stick with me until I’m old and gray.
“How are we going to have fun this weekend?” Rivka asks as she sucks down the Mai Tai. “We’re going to be surrounded by our coworkers. There’s no way you can have a weekend fling with a resort employee or guest without half of the department gossiping about it next week.”
“Ah.” I put up a finger and flash her a smile that screams up to no good. “That’s where a wing woman comes into play.”
“I’m listening…”
I motion to a bunch of lounge chairs between the drive-through where the bellhops wait to take bags and the pool area behind us. We sit down with a comfortable breeze floating over us, our bags already up in our rooms. I lower my voice and tilt my head in her direction. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you meet a strapping young man eager to tickle all your pink parts tonight. I would gladly cover for you should anyone ask when you curiously miss dinner tomorrow night or breakfast Sunday morning. I might go so far as to say something like, she went on a tour or to the movies or got a bad sunburn and is resting comfortably in her room.”
She flashes me a conspiratorial smile. “Or, like, if someone asks about you. I’d say, Oh, you just missed her, but she’ll be back soon, and then changing the subject.”
“Exactly. I’ll have your back, and you’ll have mine, Rivka. No questions asked.”
“No questions?”
“None.” I take a long draw of my Mai Tai and watch as another shuttle bus drives up. A half-dozen of our coworkers spill out of the van as I add, “Of course, if you want to give me details, I’ll totally listen.”
* * *