First Love (Soulmates #4) Page 5

  “Thanks, Debbie,” I said, nodding.

  She smiled and glanced at my drink before excusing herself.

  “Debbie likes you, anyway,” Jolie said.

  “Doesn’t she have the loveliest smile?” I reached for some nuts. “Shame about her husband, though.”

  “You know her pretty well already, huh?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, anyone with a direct line to the bar is well worth getting to know.”

  She scoffed.

  “You disagree?”

  “No,” she said, crossing her legs.

  “Well, now’s your chance,” I said, crunching another handful of nuts.

  “To do what?”

  “To ask me whatever’s on your mind,” I said. “You’ve obviously made some unflattering assumptions about me, and I’d like to clear the air if we’re going to be working together on a daily basis.”

  She lifted her drink and sipped from the straw.

  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “I didn’t ask you to get me a drink.”

  “That’s not how manners work, actually, but let’s stick a pin in that for now and get back to whatever you’re so angry about.”

  “Where are you living this summer?” she asked. “While you’re tearing apart the hotel?”

  I furrowed my brow. “In the hotel, of course.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m a hands on kind of guy.”

  She cocked her head. “In the suite, I presume?”

  “Are you asking for a copy of my key?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out how much money the hotel is going to lose out on with you living there.”

  “I see. Well, I figured I’d renovate the suite first and move in there when it’s ready,” I said. “But you can rest assured that I’ll be putting several million into the hotel renovations during my stay so the hotel can afford to host me.”

  “Several million?”

  “Give or take.”

  She stared at me for so long I noticed that soft reggae music had begun flowing through the speakers dotted along the edge of the tiki bar.

  I took a sip of beer. “I’ll have a better idea once Carrie takes the measurements she needs and draws up some plans.”

  “And where does someone your age get several million for a summer project?”

  I squinted at her. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to be disappointed if I say I worked my ass off for it?”

  Chapter 9: Jolie

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, resting my hand around the bottom of my cool glass.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. By the way you’re treating me it seems you’d rather I said I stole it from the poor like some kind of anti-Robin Hood.”

  “I just want to know the truth.” And for him to not smell so good. Is that what people meant by musk? I mean, I had no clue what musk smelled like, but something told me it was the scent wafting across the table.

  Did he smell like that everywhere? I couldn’t remember what he smelled like the summer I fell so hard for him… Probably because we both reeked of rum.

  But this- this was something else entirely. Something masculine, expensive. It was the kind of scent that could make a woman do very stupid things. Which is why I had to do everything in my power to maintain my cold front.

  After all, if I let my guard down (especially after this fourth mojito) I was liable to start twirling my hair, batting my eyelashes, and licking my lips at him.

  Then my cover would be blown, and I wouldn’t have a chance in hell of him taking me seriously.

  I glanced at my drink. The fragrant mint leaves were definitely not the culprit. It was him for sure, and between the intoxicating smell and his steady gaze, I was shaking inside like a shitting dog.

  Ugh.

  “The truth,” he said, laying his paper on an empty chair. “Is that I started a business in college that really took off.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s a company that arranges backpacking trips for college students who are short on cash and time but still determined to see the world.”

  Shit. That was pretty cool. I would’ve loved to have taken advantage of something like that… or to even have been a college student. “What’s it called?”

  “Backpack & Craic.”

  I rolled my eyes. “By craic you mean fun?”

  “You’ve been to Ireland?”

  I shook my head. “No. But my dad always wanted to go. His mother was from Donegal.”

  Adam nodded.

  “Must be nice,” I said. “Being so young and already having that kind of financial security.”

  “I guess, but it’s not really the money that excites me. It’s all the things you can do with it.”

  I cocked my head. “You mean you don’t sit at home sniffing it while children in Indonesia sew the bills together so you can use them as toilet paper.”

  “I used to,” he said. “But I got put off by the thought of all their dirty little hands on my toilet paper.”

  My eyes grew wide.

  “That was a joke, Jolie. How the hell else was I supposed to respond to that ridiculous suggestion?”

  “Right.” Was it possible that he wasn’t a completely self-centered douchebag?

  “Despite what you obviously think, I haven’t changed that much since you last saw me. Sure, I’ve been to college and managed to become my own boss, but I’m still a guy who’d rather drink rum barefoot around a campfire than anything else.”

  “I’m not sure that would be becoming of you anymore.”

  “Maybe it’s you that’s changed,” he said.

  “I haven’t changed.”

  “Really? Because the thing I liked most about you was your gorgeous smile, and I haven’t seen it a single time since I arrived.”

  My mouth twitched, but I stayed strong. “I’m not really interested in flirting with you if we’re going to be working together.”

  “It’s not flirting I’m interested in either,” he said. “I just thought it would be gentlemanly to start there.”

  I shook my head. “Do you ever relax?”

  “All the time.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Just not around you apparently.”

  I glanced down at the table.

  “Did you go to school?” he asked.

  “No. I wanted to but when the recession hit and my dad got sick, I had to put it off.”

  “What did you want to go for?” he asked.

  “Hospitality, obviously.”

  “I see. I thought there might be a chance you’d say Leisure Management.”

  I grabbed a small handful of nuts, deciding that nervous eating was safer than nervous drinking around this guy. “Why’s that?”

  “Your mom told me you’re quite an accomplished paddle boarder.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Did she now?”

  “She did.”

  “What else did she say?” I asked, leaning back in my chair while trying to ignore the way the top of his shirt pulled across his broad chest.

  “She said you’re the reason the hotel has held on this long and that you have tons of brilliant ideas for how to bring more business and buzz to the place.”

  I dusted the spice of my hands. “I have a few.”

  “Sounds like you could’ve been a marketing major, too.”

  “I’m sure I could’ve done a lot of things,” I said. “But I’m too busy to sit around wishing over my couldas and shouldas.”

  “For what it’s worth, you can learn more about marketing and hospitality working at a place like this than you can in a classroom full of case studies.”

  “That’s what I try to tell myself anyway.”

  “It’s true,” he said. “And I really want to hear all your ideas. I know you’re the expert on how things work around here.”

  I licked my salty lips. “I’m glad that’s obvious to you.”<
br />
  “It is. And I hope you believe me when I say that I intend to make your life easier over the next few months, not harder.”

  “Time will tell,” I said, lifting my glass and using my straw to crush the mint leaves against the bottom.

  He took a sip of his beer, his eyes on me the whole time, and as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, I felt my insides clench.

  “How come you never came back?”

  “After that summer?” he asked, his eyes searching mine so thoroughly I felt like he could see the memories of us I cherished most.

  I nodded.

  “My mom got sick and couldn’t travel for a while,” he said. “We couldn’t take her away from her doctors.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Is she okay now?”

  “Depends on who you ask.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “To make a long story short, she’s riddled with cancer. So no, she’s not okay. At the same time, the specialists never thought she’d live this long so by some stroke of grace, she’s managed to defy some pretty shitty odds.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “And happy for her at the same time, I guess.”

  “Me too.”

  “How’s her quality of life?”

  “Not great,” he said. “My dad thinks she’s just holding on until she sees me married off.”

  “Wow. No pressure.”

  He laughed. “Pressure is something I’m comfortable with. It’s the not knowing whether he’s right that keeps me awake at night.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Makes me wonder if I should hurry up and do my part to put her out of her misery or never settle down in the hopes that she’ll keep fighting.”

  “Can I be honest with you?” I asked.

  “Please.”

  “I don’t think it’s healthy for you to put that on yourself.”

  He sighed. “I know, but sometimes the world asks us to bear burdens we didn’t ask for. That’s just life.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Yeah,” he said, the corners of his eyes forming gentle creases. “I suppose you do.”

  Chapter 10: Adam

  I spent all morning clearing up the office so I could actually think in there.

  After all, I had to have a headquarters of sorts, and while I’d been tempted to use my hotel room in the off chance Jolie stopped by with her guard down, I didn’t really want the rest of the staff in my personal space.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much progress I could make until I figured out what was actually important.

  So in the meantime, I figured the least I could do was get all the filing boxes together in one corner of the office until I could get someone in who was qualified to make sense of what I suspected would be some discouraging numbers.

  And while clearing a few desk drawers was only a small gesture, it did wonders for my piece of mind.

  By the time I was burned out from my blitz clean, I swear just opening that top drawer and seeing nothing but a note pad and a new pen gave me the same charge that other people got from an hour of meditation.

  It’s not that I couldn’t handle chaos. I just felt it was important for everyone to have a small corner of the world that was tidy and had its shit together. It was my version of a lucky charm: The nearly empty drawer. I could sigh just calling it to mind.

  Then again, the lucky drawer did little to mitigate the frustration I’d felt ever since I saw Jolie on my morning jog. I was nearly back at the hotel- my feet stomping along the damp sand so I wouldn’t fuck up my calves in the softer stuff- when I saw her on the horizon.

  I wasn’t sure it was her at first, but as I squinted through my own sweat, I was able to block out enough sun to see her.

  She was paddle boarding by herself out on the water, her shoulders swiveling as she moved gracefully on the surface like a mirage.

  And there was something captivating about how solitary and strong she looked as her slim silhouette moved in slow motion in front of the sunrise.

  As crazy as it sounds, it gave me the same feeling I always had when I saw a healthy horse in the middle of a field. It was as if her beauty and strength were so immense that I was forced to question if she was actually of this Earth.

  I knew it was a ridiculous thought to have, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from having it on loop as I cooled down, got a shower, and went about reorganizing the office.

  Not that being preoccupied with her was anything new.

  After our drink yesterday, I felt I’d made progress. She’d softened for fleeting moments here and there, and it had given me hope that she might eventually warm to me, which would be a relief since I was way past being warm for her.

  It was funny though. When I arrived, I was curious if our juvenile puppy love would be reignited, but the sensation of seeing her again was more like I’d scratched the shit out of a dormant mosquito bite until it flared up again.

  In other words, my attraction to her seemed as useless and it was distracting.

  Fortunately, I had plenty to worry about besides her hourglass figure and whether or not she still had a belly button ring I might be able to take between my teeth.

  If I didn’t get this hotel back into the black, I was going to screw up what had begun as a genuinely noble exploit.

  Sure, I could’ve simply donated a lump sum to charity like all the Tom, Dick, and Christophes I grew up with, but I always felt that giving one’s time was a far more generous and powerful investment.

  Granted, I had fairly deluded personal reasons for choosing Harmony Bay as my first location to put this idea into practice, but if I pulled it off, the impact the resort’s newfound success could have on the community would be a gift that kept on giving for generations.

  Plus, it wasn’t the only project I looked at.

  I’d carefully considered devoting my time to the school for girls my mom had founded in South Africa, and there was an orphanage in New Orleans my dad helped rebuild after Katrina that always needed something.

  However, I wanted to make some money out of my charitable sweat. What’s more, I wanted to enjoy my summer, and I had a soft spot for Harmony Bay.

  How could I not? It was the only place I ever got to be a kid growing up.

  Between my being an only child and the music lessons, sports practice, and academic tutors my mom had me shuttled between every day, I never had time to eat dirt and throw sand or learn to share and initiate my own friendships.

  Those were all things I only got to do here when my helicopter parents let me loose with other kids and actually got tipsy enough to allow me some much needed freedom.

  It’s not that I was ungrateful for my privileged and highly scheduled childhood, but I wouldn’t have used the word fun to describe it.

  Perhaps that’s why Jolie became such an important character in my life. It was like she was from another world.

  She was responsible as a result of being so tied to the hotel’s daily activities, but she also had a sense of adventure and a lack of fear that I’d never known in someone my age. She wasn’t afraid to get stuck in, and she certainly never worried about getting dirty, wet, or sweaty.

  Meanwhile, the girls I grew up with were always hell bent on keeping their little hands and dresses pristine, as if they believed- even as children- that their appearance mattered more than what they were physically and mentally capable of.

  But with Jolie, it was like I could have boyish fun with someone who was much easier on the eye. And she was no girlier now- apart from her looks. But I suppose she couldn’t help them.

  Whatever.

  I’d worked with gorgeous women before. If anything, I should’ve been sighing with relief over the fact that she wasn’t prepared to fall at my feet like the rest of them because I was sick of that sycophantic crap.

  Still, her obvious ability to resist my charms was frustrating.

  And the more she refused to admit that what we had all those years ago was
n’t just a bunch of misdirected hormones colliding, the more obsessed I was going to become over proving it to her.

  Because I was used to getting what I wanted, and I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted to get to the bottom of my obsession with Jolie Monroe, the only girl I couldn’t forget.

  The only girl I’d ever lost sleep over.

  Chapter 11: Jolie

  It was too early to tell how the staff were coping.

  A handful of lifers made a point of telling me they thought it would be great for fresh eyes to breathe new life into the place, but it was hard to tell if they were just being supportive because they were concerned about their jobs or whether they genuinely felt that way.

  And of course the kids we only brought in for the summer couldn’t have cared less about the long term state of the resort. They just wanted their seven fifty an hour with no trouble.

  “Any idea what the meeting’s about?” Gia asked.

  “No,” I said, trying not to give away how much that very fact irked me.

  “Maybe we’re all getting fat bonuses?”

  I shot her a look. “I assure you that’s not it.”

  “Hey, a girl can dream.”

  “And dream on,” I said, slowing my pace as we joined the crowd funneling into the main banquet hall.

  “All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a morale boosting announcement.”

  “Why the optimism?” I asked.

  “I looked into his other company.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Just online,” she said. “It’s got the highest ratings on Glassdoor I’ve ever seen.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “There wasn’t a single nasty post about the guy.”

  “Interesting.”

  “So he might not be as bad as you think.”

  I scoffed. “Or he’s powerful enough to rig any system he wants, and those ratings aren’t even genuine.”

  “I prefer to hope they are,” she said.

  We settled in a space between some tall white curtains and waited for the last few staff members to trickle in.

  “Okay,” Adam said, clearing his throat at the front of the room. He was dressed immaculately in a crisp white shirt and pants that hugged him in all the right places. He certainly looked the part of the boss, anyway.