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)
“And I’m going to wring your neck,” I whisper.
“So, when you say it’s awkward, it’s not because you smacked into a nude model in your bathroom—”
“That too.”
“But it’s mostly that you’re mortified. You don’t want to admit he made you all tingly.”
I don’t answer.
I hate how well she knows me sometimes.
“Ha, see? That’s it!” I imagine her smiling warmly. “I vote for you to go kick back and have some fun. Who knows when you’ll be back to Lanai. It could be worse, you know?”
“Worse how?”
“Imagine if all that happened on video.”
“Ugh.” I press a palm over my face.
I guess that’s the one upside of this mess.
Virtually no one knows about it except for me and the butt-kisser.
And Jenn has a knack for being right.
I’ll leave this fairy-tale place soon enough, and then I’ll never run into anyone who knows about my misadventures with the naked man.
“Fine, you win. I’m milking it.”
“Umm—you might want to reconnect with the hot manager first so he can hook you up.”
“We’ll see. First, I’m going to use up the spa credits in peace since I should let my foot heal for a day,” I say.
“Now you’re thinking. Glad I could help,” she says brightly.
“I should go.”
“Hell yes, you should. You’re losing precious Hawaii time. Go get your muscles worked into jelly and enjoy the beach. I’d better not hear from you again unless your hair is on fire.”
I hang up laughing and check the time.
Okay, let’s do this.
I call down to the spa and find out they’re wide open right now.
So I head downstairs and indulge in what they call the heavenly trio—a full facial, a relaxation massage complete with hot stones, and a pedicure that makes me feel like I’m sixteen again.
With the mellow music, floral scents, and heaven right outside with the ocean view, I feel my luck turning around.
It’s the most relaxing experience of my life. Definitely the recharge I was looking for.
With a freshly peeled face and tiny palm trees on my toes, I walk back to the hotel and stop by the front desk in the lobby.
“Can I speak with the resort manager, please?”
“I’m the resort manager,” a Hawaiian woman says pleasantly.
“Oh, um—the other manager? The tall guy?” I pinch my lips shut, realizing my mistake. I should just get what I want from her and avoid any awkward turtle moments.
But what would be the fun in that? a voice in the back of my head asks.
“Other manager?” Her face scrunches up.
“Umm—Brock, right? I think that’s his name,” I say.
“Oh!” Her eyebrows stab up. “Oh, of course, yes, I’ll call Mr....Brock right away.”
I shrug. “That’s not necessary. No need to drag him away from anything important.”
“My schedule is clear.” His smooth baritone voice makes me jump when I hear it behind me. I whip around. “Miss Renee, has your stay improved since morning?”
“It’s about to,” I say flatly.
He nods slowly. “Let’s have it then. What’s on your agenda?”
The manager lady watches us intently, looking weirdly amused.
I don’t get why.
Part of me wants to fling more crap at his smug, annoyingly square and sculpted face, but there are too many people milling around to lay down the law.
I hate that his good looks make him a natural charmer, even when he’s offering the clumsiest bribes.
Stay strong.
Influencers who fall to flattery and comps lose their audience’s trust.
But like Jenn said, I’m just giving him a chance to earn his review, right?
Still, I’d rather have the whole world not listening in.
“Let’s talk in private. You can buy me a drink in the bar,” I offer.
He snorts loudly. “I feel so privileged.”
“You should.” I lean over and whisper so only he can hear. “Crazy naked guys usually have to buy the drinks up front, y’know.”
He stumbles back a step, coughing into his hand, and I laugh.
“I’ll do you one better, Miss Renee. I have a private office. We can order drinks there.” He leads me to an office behind the reception area without another word.
God, he’s a walking cologne ad, and I hate it.
Every breath in his personal space bombards my senses with that heavy, masculine halo of Brock.
I’m already regretting this.
Especially when I feel his eyes all over me, roaming wild, quietly drinking me up until I’m fanning myself.
“Still adjusting to Lanai temperatures, I see.”
Oh, God.
That smirk on his lips says he knows it’s not just the hint of humidity in the air that’s turning me into a hot mess.
I drag myself into his office behind him, though.
Very posh with its wooden walls and huge glass frames overlooking the waves.
No surprise.
He sits down in a leather power chair and motions to the seat across from him, where I drop down.
“What are we drinking today?” he asks.
“Surprise me. Whatever tastes like a smoothie, but still has a good kick.”
He picks up his office phone and hits a button. “Bring me a frozen sunrise and a finger of brandy. I’m in my office.”