After ending the call, Courtney remained outside enjoying the view and thinking about how she wanted to spend the next few hours. Did she want to go down to the beach and work on her tan? It’d been a while since she was in the ocean. She could grab her surfboard and head for the waves. Or did she want to take a dip in one of the many hotel pools and then sit in the sun with a fruity umbrella-decorated drink? As much as she loved the beach and the ocean, between her late night on Saturday and her long flight today, she was tired. A relaxing afternoon doing nothing more taxing than lifting a drink and maybe reading a book seemed like a better way to kick off her vacation. Tomorrow she’d grab her surfboard or snorkel and enjoy the ocean.
While there were certainly downsides to calling a hotel home, in her opinion the perks outweighed them. First, she never needed to worry about employing staff to maintain the grounds or the interior. When she used the suite, the hotel staff took care of vacuuming and making the bed just like they did in the rest of the hotel. Second, she had access to room service and all the other amenities the hotel offered, including a five-star spa and both freshwater and saltwater swimming pools. Really, with so many benefits, unless she moved out here permanently, it made no sense for her to purchase any property.
Unlike a lot of her friends, when it came to swimwear, Courtney’s middle name was modesty. So after changing into one of the swimsuits she’d bought specifically for this trip, a crimson tankini, she headed up to the rooftop pool armed with everything she needed to spend a few hours in the sun.
Although not the largest of the pools at the hotel, the one on the rooftop allowed you to swim while looking out over Waikiki Beach and the Pacific Ocean. Besides the pool, there was a hot tub for relaxing. If water wasn’t your thing or you wanted a break from it, there were padded lounge chairs, several small tables, and a full-service bar. After a quick but refreshing lap in the pool, Courtney snagged an empty table since there were no vacant lounge chairs and ordered a Mai Tai, because when it came to tropical drinks with little umbrellas, it didn’t get much better.
“He really is too yummy for words,” the thirty-something-year-old brunette sitting at the next table over said to her companion. Although Courtney couldn’t place her or the woman who had to be either a sister or cousin based on the resemblance, both of them looked vaguely familiar.
“Who?” the platinum blonde wearing a bikini that left nothing to the imagination asked.
Courtney pulled the latest book by one of her favorite mystery writers from her bag and ignored the conversation. Or at least she tried.
“Scott Belmont,” the brunette replied.
Courtney pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She couldn’t deny her older brother was handsome, but to hear the woman describe him as too yummy for words was downright funny.
“According to the Star Insider website, he got married yesterday,” the brunette continued.
She mentally groaned. Courtney, like most of her relatives, hated the Star Insider, a popular tabloid television show, because nine times out of ten the stories they reported were pure trash. Even when they got some of the details correct, they embellished them to get a bigger wow factor. If there was a story about Scott on the site now, she didn’t expect it to be any different.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the woman look back at her smartphone.
“Scott Belmont, the nephew of President Sherbrooke, married his longtime girlfriend, Paige Foster, Saturday in a small and intimate ceremony surrounded by family and friends,” the brunette read from the popular tabloid website.
Courtney stifled a laugh when she heard the article describe the ceremony as small and intimate. She couldn’t help herself. Since the guest list had included more than one hundred people, most individuals wouldn’t consider her brother’s wedding an intimate affair. However, considering that the groom was the great-grandson of the late hotel magnate Gabriel Sherbrooke and the grandson of former newspaper giant Thomas Belmont, it had been a small affair with only family and close friends in attendance.
“Readers might recall the two met last year at a Helping Hands Bachelor auction in Providence where Ms. Foster bid on and won four dates with Mr. Belmont. This marriage marks the eighth Sherbrooke wedding in less than four years.” The woman finished reading the article and set down the device. “I almost went to that fundraiser. If I had, I would have paid anything to win Scott or his cousin.”
The platinum blonde laughed and reached for her drink. “As if you would’ve been able to win either of them, Kylie. I read somewhere that Paige Foster’s grandfather owns Foster Oil, and the winner of Scott’s cousin bid more than one hundred thousand dollars.”
Courtney wanted to tell them the article was wrong. While Paige’s grandfather was the owner of Foster Oil, she didn’t rely on any of his money. In fact, she worked as a nurse, and the night of the auction she hadn’t bid on Scott. Her aunt had tugged Paige’s arm in the air when the auctioneer asked if there were any more bids. The same aunt had dished out the money later. But if she set the record straight, people would wonder how she knew, and she’d prefer to stay under the radar and not be recognized as a member of the Sherbrooke family—something she could usually manage since, unlike a lot of her relatives, she didn’t have the signature Sherbrooke blue eyes or light hair. She found avoiding any outrageous behavior helped too.
“If the foundation holds another auction, Bella, we should go,” Kylie said.
The event had been such a success that her mom, the current director of the foundation, was considering holding it again. Courtney had mixed feelings about it, and now that she worked for the foundation, she planned to have an in-depth conversation with her mom when she got back.
“Sounds like a plan. Mom might even—” Bella stopped and pulled her sunglasses off. “Is that J.T. Williamson over there by the bar?”
As if they had a mind of their own, Courtney’s eyes glanced at the bar, but unlike her neighbor, she kept her sunglasses on. No need to give away that she was staring at the guy if he happened to look this way.
It wasn’t hard to pick out the man in question. Joshua Thomas Williamson, better known to his fans as J.T., was the epitome of the term Hollywood heartthrob. If a list existed of all the necessary requirements, he’d be able to put a check mark next to all of them. Dark hair? Yep, he had that. Chiseled jaw? Yes. Tall? Courtney estimated he was about 6’0 or 6’1. Broad shoulders? Most definitely. Sexy barely there beard? Check.
Yep, the guy was the total package, and he knew it. The only people who’d possibly appeared on more tabloid covers than him were two of her cousins before they met and married their wives.
“Yes, and I think he’s looking this way,” her brunette neighbor answered.
Kylie, the woman she was still trying to place, was right. J.T. Williamson, perhaps the biggest playboy in Hollywood, was glancing in their direction. For perhaps the first time, Courtney wished she had on a swimsuit more like her neighbors’, because she’d never catch his attention dressed in her modest tankini, especially with the platinum blonde bombshell at the next table. And even though she never went for the playboy types, man, Courtney wanted to catch the attention of this one for reasons she couldn’t identify.
“Thanks.” Josh accepted the drink and surveyed the area. There was no shortage of beautiful women on the rooftop this afternoon. He’d come to Hawaii for some rest and relaxation, something he needed now that he’d finished work on his most recent project. While he had perhaps the best job on the planet, even he needed a break sometimes—especially after working with Nicole Sutton for the past six months. Anyone who watched them on screen together would never guess it, but he couldn’t stand Nicole. Thankfully, he’d learned early in his career how to put aside his personal feelings and get the job done. Josh didn’t know how Nicole felt about him, but since she never sought him out when they weren’t working together, he assumed she wasn’t his biggest fan either.