“Lovely, thank you,” I said politely.
He was wearing a navy polo shirt today, the stubble on his jawline perfectly trimmed, a fraction of an inch longer than respectable. His eyes…well, they were drinking me in in a way that had a tingle zapping up my spine. If I’d been worried that I was pushing the whole sexy-kitten image at my age in this getup, his look of appreciation quickly put that doubt to bed.
Making me wish I was in that proverbial bed. With him.
“So what can I get you today? Another daiquiri? Or maybe a kamikaze?”
“Just a water, thank you.”
He pulled a bottle of water from a fridge below then grabbed another glass and shoveled some ice into it, placing them both in front of me. “Probably a good idea with this heat. You may also want to consider getting a hat. You’re looking a little…pink.”
No way was I wearing a hat. I’d spent too long getting the perfect bouffant in this high ponytail that a hat would only have ruined.
“I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, and before I could linger too long, lost in those eyes, I grabbed the water and walked carefully back to my chair, feeling his eyes seemingly burning into my back as I did.
I was just settling myself into the chair, the glass of ice and water on the table next to me, when my cell phone rang.
“Hey, Mom.”
“How’s it going? Are you surrounded by gorgeous billionaires or what?”
“I’m just sitting at the pool. No billionaires in sight as far as I know.”
“Give it time, honey. There’s bound to be one coming along.”
“It’s not like I’m out hunting deer. I’m just trying to expand my—” I stopped mid-sentence as the guy I’d spent an hour googling this morning came into view.
Brennan Thornock Junior strutted along the walkway in flip-flops and a white bathrobe slightly tied around a paunchy middle. He was taller than I expected as he grew closer, his brown hair recently combed and slicked down like a choirboy, a pair of shades covering his eyes that I knew to be brown.
“Mom? I think I see one.”
He paused as he took in the pool area, then headed to the other end to an open-aired cabana that was shading two lounge chairs, a massage table, and a small table filled with drinks, all cordoned off by a rope with a sign attached saying RESERVED.
This was it.
“I’m going to have to call you back, Mom.”
“Wait. Be sure to let him see the girls. And hold your stomach in but don’t—”
I hung up before she could finish since I had to get in position.
I lay back on the chair, my sunglasses back down, and pushed my chest out as I’d seen tons of times in the movies while simultaneously holding in my stomach—not an easy feat—as Mom suggested. Then I pretended to be asleep, even as I watched him from behind the shades.
He drew closer, and I held my breath as his gaze stopped on me, taking a long few seconds to check me out before he sauntered over to his corner.
This was progress. He’d seen me.
Okay, so the moment had been brief, and I was a little deflated at not feeling any kind of zing when I saw him. But I hadn’t dragged myself all the way out here and roasted in the sun to not give it a full shot.
Brennan reached his chair, and immediately a woman dressed all in white came out of nowhere, followed by one of those cabana guys in shorts, ready to take his order. He slung his bathrobe from his shoulders and handed it to the woman, and I nearly choked at the bright red speedo that stretched tightly across his hips and groin area. Without any concern for modesty, he sprawled back on the lounge chair and held his hand out to the woman, who took it and started to massage.
I had a brief moment of doubt, wondering if I should abort my mission—at least where this billionaire was concerned—but a flash of Troy’s hand groping my thigh followed by Tracey’s fake smile as she took her husband’s arm and sashayed into their condo building gave me the resolve I needed.
Time to get the show started.
Casually I stretched my arms as if I’d just woken up. I leaned down and grabbed the sunblock from my bag. Unlike earlier, when I slathered handfuls of sunblock over my sensitive skin, this time I dabbed just a little on my fingertips then dabbed some first on my right arm, slowly rubbing it in, before moving my hand to massage my shoulder and the skin above the top of my bikini, stopping around the midline before repeating the same with my left.
By this time, I could see that my administration had earned his attention, and I worked hard not to smile. When I was done, I rubbed my hands together and sat back in satisfaction. A few minutes passed.
Nothing more happened.
I risked a glance over to Brennan and found he was in the midst of receiving a foot massage, his mouth open as he moaned in satisfaction. His attention was clearly occupied, and not with me.
I needed to draw it back.
Sitting up, I swung my legs to the side of my chair again and slid my feet into the slingbacks and stood. This time a rush of blood to my head had me stumbling ever so slightly to my right, but I managed to recover quickly. I wanted nothing more than to pull the wedgie out from my butt again but couldn’t risk looking so tacky.
Glide like a gazelle. Keep moving.
Something that was a struggle as my head was feeling light and my vision a little blurry. I was a few feet from Brennan’s chair now, and this time I permitted myself a direct stare as I lifted my sunglasses up. I met his gaze and smiled slightly before I slipped my sunglasses back down. He returned my smile, if that’s what you called the leering smug grin. I kept going until I reached the bar where the hottie bartender was looking less than impressed.
“Nice show.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Could I get a mai tai?”
“No problem,” he said, but his tone was colder than before, and this time he busied himself making the drink instead of making conversation.
I felt a little sick. Any other time, any other day, I would have gagged and rolled my eyes if I’d seen someone demonstrate the same desperation I just had. Which was precisely why I was in the dire straits I was now.
Feminism and an insistence on showing my independence had left me alone, unemployed, and practically destitute. Desperate times called for these desperate measures.
“That’s going to be eighteen twenty-five,” he said, sliding a drink toward me. “Do you have a room I can charge it to?”
I’d already made the arrangements with Penny to cover any charges I made against her room, and I gave Mike the cabana number. Hopefully that employee discount of hers would knock, like, half off that total.
“Enjoy,” he said, not cracking a smile, and busied himself wiping off the counter.
It stung, admittedly, but what had I expected?
I turned and took a few steps and, as I passed Brennan’s seat, angled the straw and took a slow sip.
Yes, I lost a little more of my dignity in doing so.
I was so focused on the straw and Brennan’s attention that I didn’t realize I’d gone too far to my right until I stumbled into one of the lounge chairs facing the pool.
Oh, cra—
The pain was sharp as my shin made contact with the corner, and I stepped back. But instead of finding my balance, I found my light-headedness had increased and I stumbled to the left and…