kids are out of the house—it’s just us two all the time. Come on. It’s our last night, and I’m sure she’s sick of me, to be honest!” He lets out a hearty laugh. “It wouldn’t be any imposition at all.”
If there’s a way out of this situation, I’m not coming up with it fast enough. I think I have to bite the bullet.
Smiling—and hoping I look far less terrified than I feel—I give in. I need this job, and am dying to land in Mr. Hamilton’s good graces. I’m going to have to ask Ethan for a huge favor. I’m going to owe him so big, it makes me want to hurl.
“Sure, Mr. Hamilton. Ethan and I would love that.”
He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “Call me Charlie.”
• • •
THE HALLWAY WEAVES AND ELONGATES in front of me. I wish it weren’t just an illusion born from dread, and that it really were five miles to our suite. But it isn’t, and sooner than I’d like, I’m back at the room, half praying that Ethan is out doing something amazing until tomorrow, and half praying that he’s here so we can make it to dinner with Mr. Hamilton.
As soon as I walk in, I see him sitting on the balcony. Why is he in Maui, hanging out in the hotel room? Although, now that I think about it, it sounds lovely. I grow instinctively itchy at the prospect of sharing the homebody gene with him.
At least he’s changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and has his bare feet propped up on the ledge. The wind blows his dark hair all over his head, but I imagine him squinting judgmentally out at the surf, silently telling the waves they could do better.
When I move closer, I see that he’s holding a cocktail in a highball glass. His bare arms are tanned and toned; his legs are surprisingly muscular and seem to go on forever. For some reason I expected that, in shorts and a T-shirt, he’d look like a string bean with awkward limbs bending at odd angles. Maybe it’s because he’s so tall. Or maybe it was just easier to tell myself that only his face could be pretty, and he’d be gnarled and gangly beneath his clothes.
Quite frankly, he’s so well-rounded physically, it’s a little unfair.
I slide open the door as quietly as I can; he looks pretty relaxed. I’m sure he’s thinking about drowning puppies, but I’m not here to judge. At least not until after he’s had dinner with my boss. Then it’s on.
I realize I’ll need to be charming, so I slap a smile on my face. “Hey there.”
He turns, and his blue eyes narrow. “Olivia.”
Wow, I am getting sick of his stupid name game. “What’re you up to, Elijah?”
“Just enjoying the view.”
Well, that’s . . . nice. “I didn’t know you did that.”
He blinks back out to the water. “Did what?”
“Enjoyed things?”
Ethan laughs incredulously, and it occurs to me that I could stand to up my sweet-talking game a bit. “How was the massage?” he asks.
“Great.” I search for more words that aren’t panicky and groveling. “Super relaxing.”
He glances at me again. “This is what relaxed looks like on you? Wow.” When I don’t say anything else, he asks, “What’s with you? You’re being weirder than usual.”
“I’ve never seen you in shorts before,” I admit. His legs, specifically the muscles on them, are a rather interesting development. Quickly, I work to remove the hint of appreciation in my voice. “Awkward.”
“I mean, it’s not like putting a tray of cleavage on display,” he says, waving a casual hand, “but I’m told shorts are still island appropriate.”
I’m pretty sure that’s another dig on my bridesmaid dress, but I honestly cannot be bothered to chase this one down. “So, funny thing,” I say, pulling up a chair beside him and taking a seat. “You know how, at the airport, I was offered the job at Hamilton?”
He nods, already bored.
“Well, guess who’s here?” I attempt enthusiasm by way of forced jazz hands. “Mr. Hamilton himself!”
Ethan’s head whips my way. And I absolutely get the fear in his eyes: our ability to be completely anonymous has just been hosed. “Here here? At the resort?”
“I ran into him in the spa.” And I add unnecessarily, “In a robe. He hugged me. It was weird. Anyway, sooooo, he invited us to dinner tonight. With his wife.”
He laughs once. “Pass.”
I curl my fingers into fists so I don’t reach over and