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“Sure thing. It might be hard to catch a shuttle tonight, though. You may have to wait until morning,” Ben advised in a nervous tone.
“I’ll be there tonight. One way or another,” Matt promised him.
Sounding like a man about to face the guillotine, Drury said goodbye quickly and hung up.
And with good reason. There was a major mess to be cleaned up, and he was the only one able to do it.
Along with Stephanie Rossi, he silently added.
The thought struck like an inspiration. He couldn’t think of anyone at this moment more able to help him. He was sure of it. She had to come. He’d make her come. He wouldn’t give her any choice.
You just want to see her in a bathing suit, his chiding voice cut in.
That’s not it at all. I need help down there. I can’t do it all on my own. She’s terrific at handling disgruntled guests, figuring out staffing, everything that needs to be covered to run a hotel.
Okay…I would love to see her in a bathing suit. With one of those matching sarong things floating around her hips, he mused.
But that’s totally beside the point!
Packing his bag with one hand, he dialed Stephanie with the other and then tucked the phone between his shoulder and cheek.
“I just spoke to Drury. It’s a disaster. I’m going down there right away.”
“Oh…that’s too bad,” Stephanie murmured in agreement. He could hear the banquet in the background. The clatter of plates and the murmur of the partying journalists.
“Who’s at the concierge desk tonight?”
“Max,” Stephanie replied.
“Have him book two seats on the next flight to Miami. If he can’t find a connection to the Cay tonight, have him hire a private plane. Something small. Then meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes. I need you to come along. Got that?”
He waited for her reply, hearing only silence. He imagined the shocked look on her lovely face.
“I’m sorry…it’s a little noisy in here. Did you say you want me to come to Blue Water Cay?”
“That’s what I said. You’re my assistant, aren’t you?” he reminded her. “Isn’t an assistant expected to assist with emergencies?”
He felt a twinge of conscience at his gruff sarcasm.
He wasn’t really annoyed, just trying to strong-arm her into a quick agreement. If she didn’t fear her job was on the line, he reasoned, she might make some excuse not to go.
“Why…yes. I mean, of course. I just didn’t expect…” Stephanie paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t have any clothes. Or even a toothbrush. Maybe I should run up to my apartment and pack a bag.”
“Sorry. No time. You can buy a toothbrush and whatever you need at the resort. Just put it on an expense account. Any other questions?”
“Uh…no. Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll see you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”
He hung up the phone and rubbed his face with his hands. Suddenly, he wondered if taking Stephanie Rossi with him was such a great idea after all.
“Whisked away! To a tropical paradise!”
That’s what Nana Bella’s reaction had been. Nana was the only family Stephanie had been able to reach while she waited in the lobby for her boss to appear. She knew they’d be looking for her over the weekend, maybe even call the police when she didn’t answer her phone messages. It was wiser by far simply to tell someone what was happening.
But her grandmother, bless her soul, hadn’t understood at all that this was hardly a pleasure trip and that her impossible boss probably expected her to body-block an entire herd of stampeding guests heading for the checkout desk. Among other impossible feats.
Nana didn’t get any of that. When she heard the news, she shouted, “Whoopee! You’re being whisked away to a tropical island! Just like Desiree and Chad….”
Desiree and Chad were Nana’s favorite characters from her favorite soap opera Tempest Rock. Since Nana’s world beyond the Rossi household was limited, the soap had become her primary point of reference and she often confused the events on Tempest Rock with real life.
“This is just business, Nana. A real emergency,” Stephanie explained.
The most miserable forty-eight hours of her life, most likely. Stephanie considered cooking up some last-minute excuse. Could she suddenly remember some crucial doctor’s appointment? Or some family crisis?
He’ll never believe me, she thought.
The moment to wriggle out of this invitation had passed. He hadn’t even given her a moment. She felt as if a gun had been held to her head, the unspoken threat being, “Come along…or else.”
“Believe me, I’m not being…whisked in any way, Nana. Hijacked is more like it.”
“I’ve seen pictures of your boss, sweetheart. I’d let that guy whisk me—or hijack me, even—in a heartbeat….”
“Nana…don’t be silly.” Stephanie felt her cheeks flush. Nana had a point. A fairly irrefutable one.
Stephanie felt someone standing beside her and looked up to find Matt. She wondered how long he’d been standing there. How much he’d overheard.
“So long, Nana. I’ve got to run—”
“Have a good trip, sweetheart. I’m going to light a candle for you!” Nana called happily after her.
Stephanie said goodbye again, clicked off her phone and stashed it in her purse.
“Checking in with your family?” His tone was bland but a faint light of amusement danced in his dark eyes.
“I needed to call in case anyone was looking for me.”
“Very thoughtful…and don’t worry about Sunday dinner. I’ll write you a note.”
She felt annoyed at his teasing for a moment. But his warm smile quickly melted her anger. Practically melted her bones, she realized. She found it hard enough to deal with him when he was being bossy and demanding. When he got all up close and personal like this, it was truly a challenge.
That’s the last time I’ll tell him anything about my real life, she vowed.
“I’ve got the e-tickets from Max. The flight leaves in about an hour and half, which should give us plenty of time. The car is out front, waiting,” she recited efficiently.
“Good work.” He smiled again, making her heart skip a beat. She’d never seen him dressed before in casual clothes. His worn denim jeans hung low on his hips, draping his long legs like an advertisement for male sex appeal. A soft black pullover, with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, molded his physique, emphasizing wide shoulders, a hard chest and washboard abs. He wore it without a T-shirt underneath and the high V-neck tantalized with a hint of dark chest hair.
He bent to pick up his duffel bag and she remembered again that she was traveling light. Frighteningly light.
What kind of clothes would she find at a resort shop on a tropical island—batik wrap skirts and tie-dyed bikinis?
Well, one disaster at a time, she coached herself.
Chapter Three
It all felt very dreamlike, Stephanie thought later. As if she and Matt were in a movie. The speeding ride to the airport in a long black limo. Their mad dash to the gate. The VIP treatment by the airline personnel.
She’d barely fastened her seat belt and caught her breath when the plane began to take off. She’d never sat in first class before. She had to admit, it wasn’t so bad. The leather seats were soft and roomy and tilted back for dozing. Like sitting in her Dad’s new deluxe La-Z-Boy recliner. She and her sisters had chipped in on Father’s Day and bought him the top-of-the-line model, complete with back massaging action at the touch of a button.
Of course, when you compared the two seating situations, you had to factor in proximity to Matt Harding. Though Stephanie wasn’t sure if that went in the plus or minus column.
She snuck a quick glance at her boss, who sat disturbingly close. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum, unwrapped a stick and stuck it in his mouth. Then turned and offered her some.
“Helps relieve the air pressure when you take off,” he promised.
She shook her head. “No thanks. I’m fine.”
He shrugged and stuck the gum back in his pocket. Staring straight ahead, he seemed to be thinking. Then he did the most amazing thing. The last thing she’d ever expect of him.
He blew a huge pink bubble.
Stephanie watched him, her mouth falling open. It grew and grew to an enormous, hypnotizing size. Then he somehow pulled the entire thing into his mouth and smashed it, with a loud pop.
He turned to her with a coaxing smile. “Sure you don’t want some? We could have a contest.”
“A contest?”
“See who can blow the biggest bubble,” he said, seeming surprised she didn’t understand.
She couldn’t tell from his tone if he was teasing her again. It seemed as if he might be. She’d rarely seen this playful side. She didn’t quite know how to react.
Retreat! Retreat! Run like…heck, a secret voice advised her. You don’t want to encourage this man, Stephanie. He’s out of your league, believe me. And bubble gum isn’t good for your teeth.
“I brought some files about the resort. I thought I’d look them over. Try to get some ideas of how to keep things going without a full staff….”
His playful expression took on a more serious cast. “Of course. Very efficient of you, Stephanie. As always.” He sighed and dug down into his briefcase. “I brought some, too.” He pulled out a wad of files and a laptop computer. “Maybe we can figure out some strategies.”
Stephanie agreed, relieved to see him switch back into “boss” mode again. She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to get personal with him. But traveling and working together all weekend like this was going to be a challenge.
But once she and Matt got down to work, the time passed quickly and the flight to Miami wasn’t nearly as difficult as she’d expected. She actually enjoyed brainstorming with him, and he always seemed very interested in her perspective. He knew so much and was very creative for a businessman, she thought. She learned a lot, just trading ideas with him.
He’s not just a pretty face, she thought with a secret smile.
When they reached Miami, they quickly found their connection, a small, local airline that flew between the mainland and many islands. The flight was not on the regular schedule, but since Matt was willing to pay handsomely for all sixteen seats, the pilot was willing to take him wherever he wanted to go.
Stephanie was not the greatest flyer and felt a little wary of the tiny, noisy aircraft. She took a seat and fastened her belt, forcing a calm expression.
Matt sat down beside her and patted her hand. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be up and down before you even know it.’
She turned to him, feeling even more distressed. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
He smiled, but in a way that didn’t make her foolish. More like her burgeoning hysteria was somehow…cute.
“Sure you don’t want some gum?” he asked in a kind voice. “It might distract you.”
He took out the pack again and held it out to her. This time she took a stick. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll let you warm up a little. Then we’ll let the games begin.”
She glanced at him, wondering if he was serious. He did look serious. She looked straight ahead, smiling a little. “I need to warn you. I grew up in Brooklyn. Four sisters. I’m tough.”
“Bring it on, babe.” He glanced at her, nearly laughing and she felt her smile growing even wider. Then she held her hand out for the pack of gum again.
“Two sticks each. Best three out of five.”
He looked surprised yet pleased at her challenging tone. “You’re on.”
Stephanie took the second stick of gum and started to chew. Then tried to remember how to blow a bubble. It had been a long time….
The rickety, noisy twin-engine plane rolled down the runway and slowly rose in the air without her barely noticing. When she looked out the window, they were flying smoothly over water and she could already see their destination, the small green island, nearby.
Matt won the bubble-blowing contest easily. His efforts were amazing. Her first two were laughable, but her last one was a real contender.
“You’re good,” she admitted as the plane taxied down the runway. “Who would have guessed this hidden talent?”
He grinned at her, looking pleased by the compliment. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Stephanie. You’d be surprised.”
His dark eyes flashed a silent challenge. She met his gaze a minute and looked away.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s flirting with me. Maybe Nana was right. Maybe I am getting whisked.
Stephanie turned her head and gave herself a mental shake. She was imagining this, right? Or maybe he was flirting, but it didn’t mean anything. He was bored and just flexing some cramped male flirting muscles. Just wants to make sure everything is in working order. Sort of like testing a fire alarm?
She wondered where she’d find his reset button. She really needed to turn it off.
Another sleek limo met them at Blue Cay’s tiny airport and they rode the short distance to the hotel without speaking much. The air-conditioned car sped down an empty, narrow road, and the dark and tropical night surrounded them. Palm trees on the roadside swayed gently and the deep-blue sky above was studded with white stars. She couldn’t see the water but sensed it all around, the scent of the sea in the heavy humid air like a strange perfume.
The limo turned down a long driveway that led to the resort. The columned entrance and portico was brightly lit and very impressive, everything white with blue tile. The surrounding landscape gave the impression of a lush rainforest, with giant Royal Palms and masses of tropical plants and colorful flowers,
She stepped out of the car and stared around, feeling very disoriented. And instantly sticky and overdressed, even in her spring weight suit. She could actually feel her hair curling in the humidity, springing loose from the pins that held it in place. She felt rumpled and tired and knew that she must look a dreadful mess.
Matt sprang out of the car, seeming energized and in total control. “Finally,” he said. He took her arm and began to lead her towards the lobby.
The hotel looked quiet, especially for a Friday night she thought. Then she realized, no bellmen, rushing forward to take their bags and help them check in. One lonely soul standing at the front desk.
The lone employee behind the desk spotted their approach and rushed toward them, flying through the automatic glass doors.
“Mr. Harding…. How was your trip? Here, let me take that for you.” Ben Drury, the hotel general manager, Stephanie guessed.
And I thought I’ve had a bad day. His was just beginning.
Ben Drury made a grab for Matt’s leather duffel bag, but Matt held on firmly.
“That’s all right, Ben. I can handle it.” He cast his employee a tight smile.
Ben backed off, still smiling, looking as if he might very well stumble over his own feet. He was that nervous.
“As you like. If you need a hand, just holler.”
“This is my assistant, Stephanie Rossi. She’s come down to help out.”
Matt stepped aside to make the introductions and Ben shook Stephanie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Rossi. Welcome. If you need anything at all while you’re here—”
I’d better get it myself. Because there’s no one left working here, Stephanie silently finished for him. She glanced at Matt, sensing he knew what she was thinking and shared the joke. It was a struggle to keep a straight face as Ben completed his welcoming speech.
“—just let me know. I’d be delighted to help you in any way possible….”
Still, Stephanie felt awfully sorry for the guy. The disaster wasn’t exactly his fault. Though he might lose his job over it. She smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You must be tired from the trip. Would you like to see your rooms? I’ve booked you both in the beachfront suites. I think you’ll be quite comfortable.”
That sounded like a plan, Stephanie thought. She was exhausted. She definitely wanted to see her room. Particularly, her pillow.
But Matt seemed to have some other plan in mind. She could tell from the way he frowned at the suggestion, before he’d even spoken a word.
“We didn’t come down here to sleep, Drury. I need a full update on the property. What kind of staff are we left with, what’s the occupancy? What’s going on with the union talks?”
Matt’s voice rose a notch on each point. Ben Drury seemed to flinch inside his dark blue suit.
Stephanie felt instantly jolted awake. She took a deep breath and glanced at Drury. He was in the hot seat and she felt sorry for him all over again.
She suddenly felt sorry for herself, too. It looked as if they were going to be up all night.
Up all night with Matthew Harding. Was her name going to be added to some long list in his diary, she joked to herself. With a footnote, of course.
How could hell look so much like paradise?
That was Stephanie’s first thought as she stepped through the glass doors and stared out at the magnificent view. The private patio, complete with a pool and hot tub, was set right on the beach, steps from the crystal blue bay. At half past six in the morning, the beach was totally empty, serene in the early light. The sand looked fine and white as sugar and the sea was a crystal shade of turquoise blue.
The private patio was beautifully landscaped, with scarlet and white hibiscus and hot-pink bougainvillea that bloomed wildly while tall palms provided corners of shade. A lattice-work wall, covered with a lush, flowering vine separated the space from the neighboring suite.
The suite where her boss was presumably still sleeping.
Stephanie hugged the hotel-issue, terry-cloth bathrobe around her slim form and padded back inside. She wasn’t even sure how she’d woken up so early. The alarm clock she’d found on the nightstand had helped. And she never could sleep late in a strange place.
But it was mostly sheer terror that had propelled her out of bed today, after little more than four hours’ sleep.
She pulled apart the little coffeemaker in the suite’s efficient kitchen. She set it up and turned it on. Coffee. She needed some. Bad. Real bad. Though she must have drunk at least a gallon of it last night.
They’d worked until nearly 2:00 a.m., Ben Drury, Matt, Stephanie and a few key executives, huddled together as they reviewed every facet of hotel operations. Hotel in-operations was more like it—as in totally inoperative, out of order, defunct.
This was not a surprise. The surprise was that Matt—bullheaded, optimistic, never say die—Harding expected to keep things up and running until the labor dispute was resolved. Which, at the current rate, looked like never.
Stephanie had to admire him. Another man would have closed the place down, booked the guests into other hotels, the Harding resort in the Florida Keys for instance. Or sent them home with rain checks or gift certificates. But not Matt Harding.
Pushed to the wall—and delirious from sleep deprivation and an overdose of caffeine—Stephanie had come up with a few innovative ideas last night that seemed to both impress and please her boss.
But it was one thing to come up with these crazy tactics to keep guests happy and fed and so full of blender drinks, they couldn’t budge off their lounge chairs, much less pack up and leave the place early.
It was another story entirely to actually pull the rabbit out of the hat. To pull off these crowd-pleasing tricks.
She’d left with the other executives, while Matt remained, going over the union contract with a bleary-eyed Drury.
Matt had hardly seemed tired, she recalled, while the rest of them were sitting with their chins on the table. He had stamina. Loads of it. The gossip about him was true. He could go all night. She smiled into her mug as the errant image raced through her mind.
The sound of splashing water broke into her thoughts. She returned to the glass doors again and glanced at the pool, expecting to see a seagull looking for a luxury bird bath. The pool was empty, without a ripple. Then she realized the sound was coming from next door. Matt’s territory.
She took a few quiet steps outside and peeked through the vine-covered divider. She could see his dark head cutting through the surface of the water, his long muscular arms and smooth broad back glistening as he made his way down the length of the pool with a powerful breaststroke.
He was…gorgeous. No question. He looked good in clothes, but this was something else altogether.
She felt guilty watching him in secret, a peeping Tom. Or the female equivalent. Still, she couldn’t force herself to look away. He was the very definition of total hunk. The masculine ideal. His torso rose as he reached forward in the water and her gaze slid down his sleek form….
What a pair of shoulders. Look at those arms. What a cute butt….
He twisted onto his back, floating a moment as he stared at the sky, then started a backstroke.
Her gaze scanned the flip side, from head to—
Stephanie blinked and dropped her mug. It crashed and broke into a million pieces. She jumped out of the way with a muffled curse, hot coffee burning her toes. She glanced through the screen just long enough to see that Matt had indeed heard the noise and knew she was standing there.
She heard the splashing stop and didn’t dare look again to see if he was coming out of the pool.
“Stephanie? Is that you?”
It’s my evil twin. I would never stand here, stalking you. Gawking at your naked anatomy…
Feeling totally mortified, her cheeks flaming as if she’d sat all day in the sun, she swiftly crept inside, not daring to make a sound.
Her only hope was to avoid Matt when he left his room, she decided.
She quickly dressed in her rinsed-out underwear and yesterday’s outfit. Then twisted up her hair and brushed her teeth with the corner of a washcloth and the complimentary toothpaste.
No makeup to hide the bags under her eyes. She could only find a tube of lipstick in her purse. The wrong color, but she put it on anyway, then checked herself out in the mirror.
She looked terrible. No question.
There are worse ways to start the day, Stephanie, she reminded herself. Like being caught checking out your boss in his birthday suit.
Stephanie arrived at the main building of the hotel feeling breathless. Luckily, there was a plan, outlined last night at the meeting. The first hurdle was getting through breakfast service. Stephanie found every able-bodied employee of the hotel assembled in the kitchen, with most not having the faintest idea of what to do.
She checked her notes and got them moving, somehow setting up a passable breakfast buffet in the outdoor dining space. Ben Drury, wearing a chef’s hat and apron, manned the omelet station.
The poor man was desperate to save his job, Stephanie realized. He’d do just about anything, short of posing on a platter with an apple in his mouth. He’d been trained in the food and beverage area of the hotel before his promotions, she’d learned, so this was a logical and the most helpful place for him to stay all day.
Out in the dining room, a man in a golf cap complained at the self-service concept. His grumbling was nearly as loud as the print on his Hawaiian shirt.
“A buffet? Give me a frigging break. I’m paying good money to have a waiter carry my food to the table. Didn’t the rest of you?”
A few guests averted their gaze, too polite to engage him. But some others started ranting, too.
Not even nine o’clock and she was facing a mutiny.
Drury rushed around, playing waiter in an attempt to placate them. Stephanie ran over and poured out coffee. Then talked up the freebies that would be available today in all parts of the hotel—free tennis lessons, sailboats, Jet Skis and down in the spa, massages, facials and aromatherapy.