The Key to Paradise (11 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Olivia

“This is getting ridiculous. We have two weeks before the Grand Opening and we’re almost fully booked for the first month.” Another series of rapid taps sounded on my bedroom door. I just pulled the covers up over my head and wriggled deeper into my little cocoon of safety.

“Olivia Jane, so help me. Open this door or I will get the screwdriver out and take it off the hinges.” Nana’s threats sounded a million miles away. It was only when I heard the clang of the tool box on the tile floor that I managed to drag myself out of bed and flip the lock before retreating back to my hide away.

“What is the matter with you? Are you sick?” I shook my head no. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“Because I’m not going to The Sea Watch. I’m never going back. I’m going to wait for the earth to open up and swallow me whole to save me the misery and embarrassment of ever seeing him again.”

“What happened?” Nana sat on the edge of the bed and patted the covers softly. The thought of telling Nana about lying naked beneath Landon when he suddenly pulled away sent a fresh burn of blush across my cheeks.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I managed to mumble from under the covers.

“Liv,” her voice was kind but there was a note of steel warning beneath it. “I’m sorry for whatever happened between you and Landon but we have work to do. Now get up and get ready.”

I managed to drag myself out of bed only because I knew if I didn’t Nana would pull me bodily from it and shove me into my clothes. As much as I didn’t want to I couldn’t stop replaying yesterday over and over in my head. From his words,
this was a mistake,
to the interminable awkward boat ride home where he left me standing on the beach without another word.

Fuck him,
the voice in my head whispered but didn’t she understand that was exactly the problem? There was nothing more I wanted than to fuck Landon Fitzpatrick. The issue was he clearly didn’t want the same. There was nothing like repeated rejection to beat a girl down.

Make him see what he’s missing,
she whispered instead. She was right—I knew she was right—but it didn’t stop the pain. I had worked my ass off to claw my way out of the depression Chris caused. Was I so weak that another man’s ‘no’ was enough to push me right back into that pit? I had always imagined that I was made of sterner stuff than that and now was my chance to prove it to myself.

I pulled on a pair of jean shorts that showed off my newly tanned legs. A low cut tank top and copious coats of mascara completed the look. I managed to snarl and curse my hair back into a high ponytail. The final result was casual and flirty with plenty of skin on display. Whether Landon wants me or not, I was still sexy. I could still be confident. I wasn’t going to fall into the same trap of letting a man define my self-worth but if he felt a little twinge of regret all the better.

Nana and I drove to the hotel in silence. She opened her mouth a few times to ask a question or make a comment but I’m sure my stormy expression was enough to stop her in her tracks. When we arrived I could hear the thin whine of a saw coming from room 107. Thankfully, there was plenty of work left to do on the other side of the building.

The furniture had been delivered the previous day and I couldn’t wait to get it all set up. It wasn’t the final step. The rooms would have to be stocked with bedding, towels, and toiletries and given a final scrub before I could officially say they were done but getting the furniture in place was a pretty major step from where we had been only a few weeks ago. The rooms were freshly painted, the floors gleamed, and the bathrooms were fully renovated. It was a beautiful blank canvas. I looked from the soft grey-blue walls bathed in early morning sun to the huge white windowed doors overlooking the ocean that opened onto a small balcony picturing how everything would look when it was all finished. There would be a huge walnut headboard against the wall, the bed a mountain of pillows and soft white linens, billowy drapes over the windows. Everything would give the air of quiet, relaxed luxury.

I pulled out a utility knife from my belt and started tearing into the boxes like a kid on Christmas morning. Each piece was exactly as I had imagined it: beautifully carved dark wood with softly gleaming polished silver hardware. It was so beautiful I couldn’t resist the urge to throw my arms around a nightstand and be thankful that no one was around to see.

“Do you need any help with that?” I realized I should know better than to think I wouldn’t get caught doing something embarrassing as Landon’s voice made me jump.

“No. I got it.” I tried to keep my voice light and unconcerned but I knew the tension in it was obvious.

Ignoring my response Landon walked over to the soft sisal rug rolled up in a corner and spread it out over the cool limestone tile.

“I think we should talk about yesterday.”

How stupid could he be? The last thing I wanted to do was talk about yesterday. I could go to my grave a happy woman if I only knew that I never had to talk about yesterday.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I said. “We were both overworked and out of our minds. It was a mistake and it would be best if we both just pretended it never happened.”

Landon rocked back on his heels from where he was kneeling taping down the carpet and stared at me. I could feel the heat of his piercing gray eyes on the side of my face but I pretended to be overly involved in attaching drawer pulls to a dresser. I knew if I met that gaze he would burn through all my pretenses and see what I liar I was. He would know that I didn’t think it had been a mistake. He would know I had thought it was amazing, skin scorching, nerve tingling and conscience destroying. It was pure raw lust in the form of silvery shocks of pleasure through every inch of my body. He would know that in that moment, lying on that beach, I had never wanted anything more than I wanted him.

Get a hold of yourself or I’m getting you spayed,
I practically screamed at myself.

“If that’s how you feel then we’ll leave it at that.” Was that a trace of tension in Landon’s voice? Was he worried I was lying or had I just bruised his ego? I knew he was proud but if he was offended that I wasn’t chasing after him after what had happened that was a whole other level of self-involved.

“Good.”

Without another word he got to his feet and walked out of the room. It was abrupt but I would hardly have called it ‘storming off in a huff.’ Why were men so hard to read sometimes?

I shook my head trying to clear it of all thoughts of Landon Fitzpatrick. I had more than enough on my plate and the last thing I needed to worry about was sex and romance. I turned my attention back to the furniture, piecing it all together and polishing it lovingly with a clean rag. There was no mother prouder than I was in that moment.

After I had finished five of the twenty rooms I figured I had earned a break. I was in danger of getting carpal tunnel syndrome from twirling tiny screwdrivers and my eyes were starting to cross from trying to see even tinier screws. I made my way down to the lobby where the bingo ladies were wrestling the sofas and loveseats into place. As soon as she saw me, Nana waved me over.

“Liv, you have a message from that PR place you hired in Miami. They asked you to call back as soon as you can.”

I grabbed a cup of coffee from the carafe and let Ellen Irish it up from the small flask she kept in her oversized plastic purse while I perused the note Nana had written down.

Hiring Jennifer to do my PR may have been the smartest decision I had made in this whole process. She managed to get The Sea Watch mentioned in a few publications and as a result we had bookings higher than I had even dreamed of in my fevered imagination. I only had three rooms still available for the grand opening and the rest of the month was pretty solidly booked as well. I picked up the desk phone and punched in her number.

“Liv, thanks so much for calling me back.” Her quiet, professional demeanor always left me feeling a little bit like a kid pretending to be a business woman. Jennifer was without a doubt the real article.

“Of course, Jen. What’s up?”

“I just pitched an idea to the editor at
Tropical Travel
magazine and they loved it. They want to do an exclusive article on The Sea Watch complete with a photo spread. They’re going to start with the history of the place. I talked to Emily Bannister and she’s on board to help. She’s already sent me over a ton of old photos and agreed to be interviewed. For the second part of the article they want to focus on you reviving the place to its former glory. If you agree, they’ll have someone down in two days and the magazine comes out at the end of the week just in time for the grand opening.”

My heart was pounding and my head was spinning. How was this even possible? Me and my resort featured in a magazine? It was too much to believe.

“How is this even possible, Jen? I mean it’s happening so fast.”

“I found out through the grapevine that they had been planning on running a story about a resort on Saint Dominic.”

The silence hung heavy between us. I knew there was some sort of subtext I was supposed to be picking up on but my neurons were still firing excitedly at the thought of being in
Tropical Travel.

Jen sighed. “I forget how little time you have for current events while you’re renovating. There was a small uprising on Saint Dominic earlier this week. Impoverished residents set fire to two resorts and a few tourists were injured. No one is traveling there in the foreseeable future.”

I was thankful that the only thing likely to rouse the inhabitants of Tamarind Key to revolt was an end to two-for-one piña colada night at Captain Joe’s.

“So your intrepid PR specialist swooped in and suggested a heartwarming piece about revitalizing a once beautiful property fallen into disrepair and restoring tourism to an island with a flagging economy all here in America. You should have heard the pitch I sold them. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were all standing up singing the national anthem by the end.”

“You’re a miracle worker, Jen.”

“I know.” I could just picture her sitting in her glass office in a high rise in downtown Miami smiling smugly. Jen was a shark but she was a shark on my side, one of the many reasons I loved her.

“So what do I need to do?”

“Get your nicest room completely set up, set up at least half of the restaurant so they can get a few good shots in there and have the lobby and patio ready. Those are the areas I told them I wanted highlighted in the piece. Wear something professional but breezy tropical. Think elegant but not urban. We want to give the impression of you as a welcoming tropical hostess. And Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Do something with your hair!”

I played it cool for the rest of the call but the minute the handset was back in the cradle I whooped for joy leaping straight up into the air. Five startled faces turned towards me—or in Lois’ case—vaguely in my direction.

“What on earth?”

I grabbed Nana’s hands and spun her around in a circle. “We’re going to be in
Tropical Travel!
” I yelled half laughing and half crying. “We’re going to be in a magazine!”

“Oh, I love that magazine!” Verna gushed. “They have it in my podiatrist’s office.”

The ladies all huddled around me and pressed for more details. Landon wandered in halfway through the story with questions of his own. I answered everything I could but I didn’t have too much information to give, everything was happening so fast. Luckily, Nana sprang into action.

“Landon, get the furniture set up in 307. That’s our largest suite and the balcony has the best view.” Landon nodded and disappeared down the hall to follow orders. “

“Verna and Lily, call the linen service and tell them we’re going to need twenty tablecloths, napkins, a king sized bed set and a set of towels early. Ask them if they can have it delivered tomorrow. If not it absolutely has to be here first thing in the morning the day after. Tell them if they skimp on the ironing they’ll have me to answer to.” Verna nodded and Lily gave Nana a smart little salute.

“Lois and Ellen, go down to Frank’s Florist. We need arrangements for 307, the dining room tables and the lobby. Think classy and tropical: orchids and sprays of bougainvillea should work well. Liv, sit down and put your head between your knees. You’re not breathing, honey.”