“That was an email from Caroline DuPont’s assistant. She says that Mrs. DuPont had an emergency and has to push the meeting back to this evening.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Yeah, he’s definitely pissed. He’s facing straight forward and I can see his jaw muscle twitch. I’m sure he’s grinding his teeth down to stubs right now.
“What is this, some kind of power play or something?” I ask him. I’m not sure what happened, but I hope she’s not messing with us. Canceling a meeting with people from out of town thirty minutes before the designated time is a dick move. Even in my short tenure as an assistant, I’ve learned that much.
“I don’t think so.” He lets out the breath he was apparently holding and runs his fingers through the thick hair on his head. “She doesn’t seem like the type to play games. She’s too straightforward for that. Something must have come up for her to reschedule like this. At least she’s going to meet with us tonight. We’ll stay over here and leave in the morning.”
“We don’t have any bags with us,” I point out to him. I’m not looking forward to wearing the same outfit tomorrow that I have on.
“If you need something that you don’t have with you, just put it on the company card. Part of the perks of getting stuck in Santa Cruz with the boss.” He flashes that panty melting, mischievous grin at me. It’s a smile that I’ve been seeing more and more of over the past few weeks, and I don’t hate it.
“You’re right, it’s a total hardship,” I say back to him teasingly. Archer directs the driver to take us to a hotel down on the beach. There are no Clarke Hotels here—yet, he likes to point out—so we check into a beautiful hotel that looks like the cost per evening would equal that of my weekly paycheck. The front desk attendant takes our carry-ons and tells us he’ll have them waiting for us in our rooms upon our return.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask Archer. It looks like we have some time to kill. I’m hoping I can get him to let me go do a little sightseeing while we’re here. I’ll use my lunch hour if I have to.
Archer smiles down at me and places his hand on my lower back, steering me back out to the front of the hotel. Even though there’s the cotton of my shirt between us, I can feel his fingers as if they’re directly on my skin. My entire body flushes as I walk beside him. So much for dry panties.
We leave the car at the hotel and head down the street, chatting easily back and forth while his hand lies on my back the entire time. Does he even realize he’s touching me?
A few minutes later, we approach the opening to what the sign proclaims is The Santa Cruz Wharf. It’s basically a long pier lined with shops and restaurants, making me glad I decided on the flats this morning. I walk up to the edge of the pier and look out over the beach next to us and the ocean as it disappears into the distance.
“It’s beautiful here.” I’m tilting my face up, the warm sun against my skin as a breeze blows by, tugging at the strands of hair trapped up in my bun.
“Yeah. It is.” Archer’s voice sounds almost like a growl. I turn around and see that he’s staring directly at me with one of the most intense gazes I’ve ever seen in his eyes. I wish I knew what he was thinking right now. Tucking the loose hair back into my updo, I leave the railing and return to his side. His hand seems to automatically fall to my lower back once again, and I let him steer me deeper into the crowd. “Come on, I want to show you this.”
We browse the Made In Santa Cruz shop and everything is so cute, I want to take it all home. I’m wondering if I should get some things to take home to Violet and Bianca, but decide to just buy a UCSC Banana Slugs t-shirt. Not only is it a fun souvenir, but I’ll also be able to sleep in it tonight. I’m nothing if not practical. Archer insists on paying for the shirt even though I assure him he doesn’t need to. The man pays me enough where I can purchase my own souvenirs. He tells me I wouldn’t have to buy something to sleep in if it wasn’t for the job, so it’s really a business expense. I finally relent and let him buy the damn thing.
The cashier hands the bag containing my new sleepwear to him and instead of handing it over to me, he holds onto it and uses his other hand to grab my elbow, pulling me excitedly along to the next store in a long line.
I’m not entirely sure that our plane didn’t land in an alternate universe. I’ve never seen Archer so happy. He’s smiling, laughing, and being downright playful. If I hadn’t been sitting next to him the entire flight and saw him only drinking coffee, I would swear he was drunk.
He tries to buy me something in every store, but I put my foot down in a small art gallery. There is no way he’s buying me a $2,000 painting. When I refuse him, I could swear he pouts a tiny bit.
“Archer, you can’t justify buying me that as a company expense. What? I was in Santa Cruz and forgot to bring the artwork I normally travel with?”
He laughs and finally gives in. “Fine, no painting,” he raises his hands in a sign of surrender, “but I still get to buy lunch.”
“Yes, you can still buy lunch.” I laugh with him. I’m having so much fun I forget that this is supposed to be work. Archer is giving off this happy and relaxed vibe that’s setting me at ease too.
We take our time exploring the wharf, visiting small souvenir shops, wandering the fish market, and watching the sea lions lazily sleep on their platforms in the water. Being a sea lion never looked so good.
As I’m peering over the railing at them, Archer rests his hand on the small of my back. The man has been touching me in one way or another since we left the hotel. His hand is always either on my lower back, arm, or at my hip. I wish he knew what it was doing to me.
It’s taking all of my self-control to keep me from leaning into his touch. All I want to do is press myself against his firm chest and have his arms wrap around me. Okay, so that’s notallI want to do, but it’s all I’ll let myself think about right now. I might as well go into the bathroom and chuck these panties into the trash. They’ll never be the same.
We eventually decide that we’re hungry and Archer takes me to the Firefish Grill. We’re seated at a table directly up against a floor to ceiling window that shows the Pacific Ocean stretched out into the horizon.
“This place is amazing. I can see why you want to build a hotel here. It’s California but somehow feels like a small town. No wonder Caroline DuPont is so protective of it.”
“It’s a great town. Did you know they found an actual Megalodon tooth in the mountains above Santa Cruz in 2014? That means ten million years ago the ocean completely covered those mountains and a 60 foot long apex predator roamed the waters.”
I grab a breadstick from the middle of the table and chew on it while considering what he’s just revealed. This is a whole different side of Archer that I didn’t even know existed. Geeking out about sharks and history? I never expected it. “Are you some kind of undercover science nerd?”
He laughs easily and shakes his head. “No, I’m just a Santa Cruz nerd.” Before I can continue questioning him, our waitress appears at the side of the table. She’s looking at Archer like she wants to unhinge her jaw and swallow him whole. She hasn’t even bothered to look over at me yet. I clear my throat to get her attention. She begrudgingly takes her eyes off of my lunch companion and asks me what I would like. Believe me girl, I get it. The man is hot. Like red hot.
We both place our lunch orders. I get the Fisherman’s Pasta with a glass of iced tea and Archer decides on the Seafood Tacos and ice water. While we wait for our food, I decide to pick our previous conversation back up. “So, why are you such a Santa Cruz nerd? I know you want this project to get off the ground, but I don’t think you had to learn about Megalodon teeth in order to do it.”
A stormy expression I can’t quite read clouds his face as he turns his light brown eyes away from me and out to the sea. I don’t know where happy, carefree Archer went, but I want him back. I want to kick myself for digging deeper into this. We were having an amazing day, enjoying each other’s company. I, for one, can’t remember the last time I had so much fun exploring a new place.