I almost cancelled. Kayla talked me out of it.
She and Justin had won this getaway in a heated auction at a charity event last year. Kayla had been quite proud of the way she'd waved her bidding paddle around and outbid a particularly contentious rival. The satisfaction was in winning the item and the amount of money raised for the charity. But the prize was no slouch, either. Not in my opinion. Unfortunately, they'd been too busy to use it. The deal had an expiration date that was fast approaching. There was only one available set of dates left—the third week in July. It was use it or lose it time. And who could stand to lose it?
"How many opportunities will you get to sleep beneath the water, Britt? Hello! Mermaid, anyone?" Kayla knew how to hit below the patent leather belt. "Complete privacy. Time to unwind. You've been so stressed lately." She gave me a pointed look and broke into laughter when I scowled at her.
"And we all know why." I shook my head.
Kayla arched an eyebrow. "Or should we say who?"
I wagged my finger at her. "Don't mention that little prick's name. Not if you don't want me to go ballistic."
I was a senior merchandise buyer for Justin's company Flashionista. We were the premier online fashion flash sale site in the world. And expanding daily.
We were primarily a women's fashion site, with some housewares, a few items for men, and gifty items thrown in for good measure. I'd been assigned the dubious honor of expanding the brand offerings further into menswear and accessories. Men's furnishings. Dubious because I'd been trying to land a deal with Hott Socks for an exclusive event for weeks.
Hott did more than just men's socks. They designed lines of cool T-shirts, belts, even grooming products like beard oil and cologne. They were the hottest, hippest thing in men's fashion. So hot that stores couldn't keep their products in stock. Scoring an event with them would be a career-making coup for me.
Unfortunately, their stuck-up, arrogant douchebag of an owner, Eli Davis, had been putting me off. First he pushed me off on a junior executive who demanded unreasonable terms. Then, when I went over junior's head and called Eli directly, he wouldn't take my calls. Just the thought of him shot my blood pressure off the charts.
"I actually think you'd like—"
"No." I stabbed my finger at her. "Don't go there."
"Him," she continued calmly. "Your emotional intelligence is failing you, Britt. You and he have a lot in common."
"That's a low blow." I prided myself on my emotional IQ.
"You're blinded by your ambition. He's a friend of Jus'. Jus thinks he's great. You and Mr. Hott Socks would be so cute together if you didn't let business come between you. And your feet would never be cold."
I shook my head. "No. They'd be up his ass."
Kayla rolled her eyes. "It's nothing personal with him. Just business. Jus doesn't let it bother him that Hott Socks won't do a deal with us."
I took a deep, calming breath and rolled my eyes. She didn't know how personal it was. I never lost a deal. "I wouldn't get together with Mr. Hott Socks if he was the last billionaire on earth."
"That's good. Because he's not quite a billionaire. Yet. But he's working on that third comma and determined to get it." She laughed again. "Back to this vacation—you need to go. Relax. Come back to the office rested and ready to do battle with all the hard-assed douche businessmen of the world. There are worse things than a week away with the peace and quiet of your thoughts and time in the sun. You need some downtime."
She was right. Which was how I ended up at a marina on a sunny day in beautiful Fiji, looking for my boat ride to the cabin, staring at the back of a hot, well-built guy of the flavor that made my toes curl. Bleached hair. Broad shoulders. Over six feet. Check. Check. Check.
I was in the middle of the perfect sex-on-the-beach fantasy when he turned around. Of all the beaches in the world, he had to find mine. The hot guy from the bar I'd met months ago and made a fool of myself with. The guy who had never called. Awkward. The guy who was also my nemesis—even worse.
"Eli Davis." His name slid off my lips like a hiss. Mr. Hott Socks himself.
I had actually only met him in person once. At a bar near Flash back while I was still working for my previous employer. Before I knew who he was. I thought we'd hit it off. My mistake. A year later and he still hadn't delivered on his promise to call me.