A week of being a woman.
That was my wish.
That absurd thought made me smile. A wish was defined as a strong desire for something that is not easily attainable, something that cannot or probably will not happen.
Lena Montgomery didn’t make wishes. She got shit done.
This felt different.
Maybe for one week…I could be a normal woman, a woman with a wish.
As long as CJ didn’t have a dead-fish fetish, it was worth a try.
Why did I agree?
The simple answer was I wanted to. I chose the treadmill beside CJ to give him another chance. I almost slid into the Lena mode and made the first move. Why? Because, holy shit, when he turned my way, his handsome face took my breath away. His smile with one dimple. His hair was pulled back as it had been yesterday. I almost blurted out my name, but then he spoke, and I wanted to see where it would go.
As he spoke, I fought images of pulling the hair tie and releasing his dark mane. Thoughts of his unshaved cheeks on my sensitive skin caused my insides to twist. Thank goodness for the sports bra. My nipples would probably have been a dead giveaway.
The loofah sponge caressed my skin, filling the shower stall with the scent of my eucalyptus bodywash. Closing my eyes, I imagined CJ.
How long had it been since I’d been with a man?
It would seem as if I should recall.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t consider myself loose. I was a modern woman who enjoyed physical pleasure. The giver didn’t matter as long as they didn’t work for me. Honestly, there were a few friends with benefits in my life. Most likely the last time was with one of them. Our relationships didn’t revolve around sex. Sex was a biproduct of the relationship. Men had long had similar relationships, why couldn’t a woman?
As I stepped from the shower, I realized what I hadn’t been doing. I hadn’t been thinking about Architech, Montgomery Holdings, the giver of dead fish, or even my sister. Without more than an invitation to breakfast, CJ had accomplished what I hadn’t been able to do in months—refocus my thoughts.
As I readied for breakfast, I made a decision. This week was about resting, relaxing, and taking a break from all the balls I had swirling in the air. Jeremy assured me that Montgomery Holdings would survive without my constant oversight. That said, I knew if I was needed, he wouldn’t hesitate to get ahold of me.
The truth was I needed a break—wanted one.
A break from being the Lena Montgomery.
CJ said he didn’t know who I was.
I didn’t know him.
After smashing my lips together to coat them with lip balm, I grinned. Pitching from right to left, I watched as the flowing blue sundress with large blue flowers swung. It was like nothing I’d wear to work. The same could be said for the rhinestone sandals on my feet. I’d bought them on a whim.
The woman in the mirror wasn’t the powerhouse in the boardroom. My lips weren’t painted red, nor had I spritzed my usual Creed Royal Service perfume. With only mascara, lip balm, and cheeks pink from yesterday’s sun, I would spend this week simply being Lena.
Chapter Seven
CJ
After speaking with the concierge, I checked my phone one last time for a message from my brother. Silence. That wasn’t how it had been. We used to have two to ten different conversations in the works before I finished my workout.
Before putting my phone away, I sent one text message.
“Mom, still in Cancún. Still safe. Plan to leave the resort by myself to see the city. I’ll text later.”
A smile curled my lips. If breakfast went well and something worked out with Lena, I wouldn’t have to torment my mother for excitement. Before I left the suite, my phone rang. I didn’t need to see the name.
“Chandler Johns.” My mother’s voice was stern.
A full-fledged laugh came out. “Mom, I’m razzing you. I have no plans, none except I’m headed to breakfast.”
“Don’t do that to me.”
“I just wanted to see if you’d respond.”
“Respond,” she said, “you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“You’re fifty-five. I don’t see that happening.”
“Did I tell you about the story on that news program, you know the one where they recreate crimes?”
I peered down at my watch. I had fifteen minutes to make it to breakfast, and I wanted a table before Lena arrived. “I’m sure you did.”
“It was a fancy resort…I don’t recall the name…”
I was beginning to regret my poke at my mother bear. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m really fine, and I’m meeting someone for breakfast. So, give Dad my love, and I’ll talk to you later.”
“Who are you meeting? Please don’t go anywhere with anyone you just met. You never know who they could be. People on vacation aren’t always real.”
That was my plan—to not be totally real. I doubted that I’d fulfill my earlier fantasies with Lena by starting off breakfast telling her my woes and regrets about becoming filthy rich. “Got it, Mom. Bye.”
Quickly, I pushed the red icon before she could respond.
Slipping my phone and wallet into the pocket of my swim trunks, I took one last look in the mirror by the door. The surfing cat tank top should probably go. That said, I didn’t pack much for this trip, really anything. Only what I could throw into the carry-on at the last second. The resort had multiple stores.
As I debated my clothing choice, it occurred to me that thinking about my clothes was something I rarely did. That was the beauty of starting your own company, no one to answer to, other than Colton. He didn’t give a damn unless we were meeting with investors or interviewing employees. Or making a deal to sell…
Fuck the surfing cat.
My t-shirt from yesterday and the clothes I wore to work out were not fit for company. In other words, they needed laundering. That left one option. On the way to breakfast, I made a quick stop at an open shop and found a greenish-blue tank with the name of the resort on the front. Since it mostly matched my swim trunks, I decided it was a win.
As the girl rang up the purchase, I stripped out of the old tank, pulling it over my head. After ripping the tags off, I slid the new shirt on. When our eyes met, she grinned.
“You must really hate that cat shirt.” She lifted her eyebrows. “I think it’s unique.”
Stuffing the old shirt into the bag the other shirt had come in, I handed it to her. “Is there any way you can keep this? I’m supposed to meet someone for breakfast.”
“It’s against the rules…” Her smile grew. “But I can hold onto it for a couple of hours. I’m off at noon. Come back before then.”
“Thank you.”
As I started to walk away, she called out, “I hope you get the job.”
My forehead furrowed. “The job?”
“Interview? Right? Otherwise, why change the shirt?”
“I guess I want to impress my breakfast guest. No job…” I’m independently wealthy. I didn’t say that last part.
“She’s a lucky lady.”
For the first time, I noticed the girl’s name tag. With a wink, I said, “Thank you, Rachel. Let’s see if she thinks so. I’ll see you before noon.”