Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Right.” Those. The whole reason Ronan’s helping me in the first place. Because this is a professional arrangement, even though he keeps throwing around this friends word. “You told her about this?”
“Barely. She doesn’t know the details. If she did, she would have hired all of your workers.”
“I guess I’ve earned a few enemies over there.” I’ve never met this Belinda. For all the council meetings I attended and pots I’ve stirred over the years in the name of Wolf Hotels, I’ve never met anyone high up in the food chain. Not William Wolf when he was alive or Henry Wolf when he took over. They never bothered to show their faces, always sending representatives instead. Not like the location in Alaska that Henry Wolf personally oversaw, according to the papers.
All that tells me is that Mermaid Beach is nothing more than an acquisition, a cog in the wheel of their empire.
But this place is everything to me.
Ronan seems to understand that. It’s the only way I can explain his kindness.
He moves to shut his computer.
“Wait. Flip back to that first list for a minute?”
With a curious frown, he pulls it up.
“Him.” I tap the line that lists Rick Reynolds. “We call him Rick the Dick. He worked for us a few years ago. He intentionally injured himself and then tried to sue, but he didn’t know there were cameras on him. It all got dismissed. But he’s a huge scammer. Everyone around here knows about him. He’s probably using his brother-in-law as a reference, but whatever they say will be bullshit. The guy hasn’t worked an honest day in his life.”
A slow smile spreads across Ronan’s lips. “You saw his name and were going to let me hire him.”
I shrug. “I’ve changed my mind.”
With quick movements, Ronan strikes him off the list and types into the notes, “A.k.a. Rick the Dick. Scammer. Litigious.”
“You can’t write that.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Should I be worried about the others?”
“Let me see.” I read through the rest of the names on the various tabs, acutely aware of the heat radiating off Ronan’s body and the smell of him, and the way I’m tucked up against my kitchen counter and his thigh has settled in behind me. Almost touching me.
So many of these people aren’t familiar, but that’s the nature of Mermaid Beach as it grows. It used to be that if you didn’t know them, you could guarantee there was only one degree of separation. “Alvaro and Jose Perez have worked at The Sunken Ship for years.” A kitschy tourist-trap restaurant. “Super hard workers. Honest guys.” The Sea Witch gives discounts to local industry workers and every year, those two bring their families out for a day cruise around Starfish Island.
I know the owner of The Sunken Ship, and I don’t particularly like him. They’d do well to leave.
“So, are you saying we should keep them?” Ronan’s question cuts into my thoughts.
“Yeah, they’re great. Alvaro would make a good supervisor.” An impish spark hits me then. “Actually, on second thought, you don’t want these guys. I forgot. They don’t work weekends and …” I scramble for another excuse. “They have serious hygiene issues.”
Ronan’s eyes narrow. “You want to hire them for the Sea Witch, don’t you?”
“Never.” I fight to school my expression, my laughter threatening. I’ve offered them jobs before—they’d be a great addition to the beach crew—but they like the kitchen. I’m sure they’re angling for permanent full-time at Wolf.
That sexy, crooked smirk curves the corner of Ronan’s mouth. “You’re trying to poach people from my list. I don’t know. That might cost you.”
“Oh yeah? How much?” I ask before really thinking that question through.
The mood in the room shifts in an instant as Ronan’s gaze skates over my face, along my neck, dipping down to my cropped tank top, his eyes like fingertips trailing over my skin. Can he see the gooseflesh that’s erupting?
That same headiness I felt in his office yesterday swirls around us now, taunting me, threatening to pull me under with its spell.
“I need to get back to the office,” Ronan says softly, apologetically, even as his square jaw clenches.
I swallow against the flare of nervous excitement as I stare him down, my body vibrating with need. I want this man. Here, now. I want him, and I think he wants me. This can’t be me misreading the situation a second time. “Are you sure?”
“That I need to? Yes.”
My adrenaline surges. “Do you want to?”
A strangled sound escapes him. “Sloane.”
I can’t hear myself think as I step in between his splayed thighs. “It’s a simple question.”
“But it’s not a simple answer.” He reaches up. My hair clip suddenly loosens, and my hair tumbles down around my shoulders. “No, I don’t want to leave.” A cool, calloused hand slips around to the back my neck. “But I’m not sure you’re up for what I want.” His thumb drags back and forth over my skin.