Mr. Romantic (Mister, #2)

What else does he want to do?

I spy a fancy window filled with pretty lingerie and stop to look at it. The mannequins are faceless and thin, yet still graceful and slender enough to spark a bit of jealousy in me. How is it fair that a fake woman can pull off sexy far better than I can?

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” A salesgirl is watching me covet the expensive bits of lace, and silk, and chiffon.

“Very,” I say. “But all I really need is a one-piece swimsuit. Mr. Delaney said I could charge it to my room? I’m in family cabana number six.” I can’t help but hide the disappointment in my voice. And even though it’s somewhat dishonest to take him up on his offer for a free swimsuit when I know I’ll be leaving soon, I’m going to do it anyway.

“Well,” the girl says in a low voice. “We have the best selection in that area. Would you like to see your options?”

“Certainly,” I say, following her inside the shop.

She stops in front of more mannequins and waves her hand at the display.

“These are… swimsuits?” I ask.

The girl laughs. “Yes, and technically, a one piece.” She winks at me for obvious reasons.

The tops and bottoms of the suits are all technically connected, just as she said. But connected is a matter of degree. Slim straps, and in some cases, silver or gold chains, are what keep the two small pieces of fabric from being called a bikini. The one I’m looking at is definitely a bikini, with just a single chain linked from the middle of the bra piece to the middle of the panty piece.

Would Nolan Delaney die if I wore this for our midnight swim tonight or what? I chuckle, and then stop. Maybe he sent me here on purpose?

“Do you have anything more conservative?” I ask.

“Not in this shop. This is what I call the naughty store. We have another shop on the east side with more traditional pieces.”

So he did mean for me to stop by this place. Hmm.

“Would you like to try one on? I bet you’d look great in this.” She points to another suit with slightly more coverage than the first. It’s all black and the bottoms have straps of fabric that burst out from between the legs in a starburst fashion and connect to the bra.

Nice way to draw the eye down to… well, the goods.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, I really would.”

Twenty minutes later she’s wrapping the suit up as I stare at the lingerie again.

“Want to continue shopping, Miss Rockwell?”

“No,” I say, coming to my senses. A provocative bathing suit is enough for one day. Besides, I’ve already decided I won’t be sleeping with Nolan. That lingerie I long for will have to wait until a more suitable man comes along. I sign the slip that will charge the suit to my room, and then notice there is no price on it. “How much was this? I completely forgot to ask.”

“We haven’t priced them yet. We’re still setting up shop. None of the ladies Mr. Delaney invited to the soft opening are interested in this store. It’s for younger women, like yourself.”

“OK. But how much?”

“Sorry,” the salesgirl says with a shrug. “Mr. Delaney stopped by earlier and said you might be by. He said to make sure you left with something pretty and not to tell you the price.”

“He did, did he?”

“He did,” the girl answers back, as she hands me the fancy bag.

That snake is very sure of himself. Very sure of himself.

And you walked right into it, Ivy.

What was I thinking? Why would I ever want to lose my virginity to a man like him?

“Well, thank you so much for your help,” I say, taking my bag and walking out of the shop.

“See you around, Miss Rockwell.”

Not for much longer. I’m fairly certain my time here is just about up. Claudette Delaney will get wind of this transaction, and the instructions from her brother that precluded it, and have me on that jet in no time. I’ll probably be lucky to make it to the six o’clock meeting.

When I get back to my cabana it’s almost five thirty. There was no sign of Nolan when I walked past his cabana, but I assume he’s already in the office getting ready for his applicants’ presentations.

I put my cream-colored linen suit back on from earlier today and freshen up my face and hair before walking out of the cabana and heading over to the main building. Here goes nothing, Ivy.

Oh, stop. It’s not like I have a chance in hell of getting this job. Even if Nolan is impressed by my analysis, Claudette won’t be. Face facts, I’m out of here tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest.

But I’m going out in style.

The front desk ladies greet me by name when I approach, and then point to a set of stairs that wind up to the office. I arrive on the second floor at five minutes to six, and smile self-consciously at the two men sitting in the outer office waiting room.

“Hello,” I say.

“Hello,” they say in unison.

I’m screwed. They are both in their mid thirties, slightly older than Nolan. They are both wearing expensive suits, and they both look like men who have most certainly done this before.

Well, there goes my grand exit. I bet they have all the same ideas I’ve come up with for adding value to the Hundred Palms Resort customer experience, and then some.

“Oh, good,” Claudette says from off to the left. “Ivy has finally arrived so we can get started.”

I was early. Five minutes. She is really out to make me look bad.

“Come on in to the conference room, everyone. We’re doing this together. Nolan?” she calls. “She’s here.”

God, I wasn’t late.

Nolan Delaney appears from an office down the hallway and smiles at us. He’s wearing a suit again. Perfectly tailored, black suit with a yellow silk tie. “OK, everyone. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve come up with.”

We file in and take our seats around a long oval table. I sink into my chair when I notice the two other candidates pulling out presentation material. One guy is setting up a projector.