A Kiss at Midsummer Read online

  Chapter Two

  Elise Stevens walked into her apartment after her late meeting with her boss, Cyree Hue. Graham McNeil, some wealthy business owner in Denver, had been working with Cyree for the past couple of weeks to see if he could get a personal Activities Director for his business partner. And since “every guest at The Royal Palm is royalty and should be treated as such,” they had been working to rearrange her schedule so she could accommodate the man, and everything had finally worked out.

  Right before she had left the meeting with Cyree, though, her boss had said, “I know you understand the rules, but I’m going to say it anyway. This is a VIP client, and you’re going to be spending a lot of time with him. You’re expected to behave professionally at all times—no flirting, no dating, even if he ends up being young and attractive.”

  “Come on, Cyree,” Elise had said. “You know that my loyalty to the resort always comes first.”

  The truth was, she was a little hurt that Cyree would’ve even brought it up—Elise had never given her any reason to. But then Cyree gave her a warm smile that told Elise that she was trusted. “And that’s exactly why we okayed this arrangement.”

  Cyree had let the man know that Elise was going to be available, and let Elise know to expect a video chat from Graham to work out the details. What she hadn’t expected when she answered the video call was, well, all the details. Now that she and Graham were chatting, he was giving so many details.

  “Cyree and I have already worked out the details of payment to the resort,” Graham said. “That will cover the hours you’ll be spending with Merit. But now I need to ask, as the activities director, do you often get tips?”

  “I do.” A spark of hope made her breathe a little easier. Tips weren’t a huge chunk of her paycheck, but she had set goals for saving money, and not being able to earn the tips she normally would while working with this man’s business partner was going to compromise those goals. Maybe the man was going to offer to tip her what she normally would be making.

  “Good, good. I’m glad The Royal Palm doesn’t frown on that, because I have a proposition for you.”

  Elise nodded for him to continue.

  “Look, my business partner, Merit, needs to learn how to date and have fun again. To remember how to connect with humans outside of work. I think going on a few dates would be good for the guy, but his flirting skills are a tad rusty. I don’t want you to set him up on dates. Just be his wingman and help him find a few dates—let’s say five—and just give him a nudge, maybe a few tips. I’ve got a big fat bonus at the end of this for you.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever accepted a tip for being a wingman before.”

  Graham chuckled. “Wingwoman, then. But listen, I want the dates to be guests who he actually seems to be interested in. I want him to remember what it’s like to be attracted to something other than work.”

  The more Graham talked about this man, the more Elise realized how difficult the task might be.

  “Help him find those five dates, and I know he’ll be able to meet the requirements I’ve set for him. If he does, the bonus is yours.”

  Elise nodded. “I’ll do everything I can. You can work out the details of the bonus with Cyree.”

  “I...” the man hesitated, “would rather not.”

  She cocked her head to the side.

  “Listen. Merit isn’t just my business partner—he’s also been my best friend for the past eight years. I just want what the guy to be happy, and he’s got a better chance at being that way if he figures out that there’s a whole rich life waiting for him outside of work. I don’t mind that people know I’ve hired you as his activity director. But as far as the dating aspect—well, I’m not looking to embarrass him, so the fewer people who know the more sensitive details, the better.”

  Elise nodded. If the roles were reversed and a friend of Elise’s sent her on some kind of intervention vacation and the friend asked a guy to help her figure out how to date, she would definitely appreciate fewer people knowing. “I understand, and I will use discretion.”

  “Good,” Graham said, leaning back in his chair, smiling from ear to ear. “Does twenty thousand sound okay for the bonus?”

  Elise nearly choked. Twenty thousand? That was easily ten times the amount she could possibly earn in tips during that four weeks. She wanted to question the number out loud, just to make sure she heard correctly, but there was no way to do that and still seem professional. So she just nodded and said, “That would be great,” in her most businesslike voice.

  When they ended the call, she stood up from the chair at her kitchen table and whistled her way to the freezer. She glanced at the closed door down the hall that was empty in the off-season but now housed her summer season roommate and co-worker, HallieMae. She wanted to tell her friend about the video call, but she was currently on a date with the guy she was crushing on who worked at the Mini Palm. Elise didn’t mind waiting until tomorrow morning to chat, though. Tonight was just her and that was actually perfect.

  She pulled a pint of Chunky Monkey out of the freezer then grabbed a spoon and headed into her bedroom. She knew that Graham wouldn’t have offered a massive bonus if he had expected her job to be easy. She knew to be wary of this guy, Merit Casselman, who was supposed to arrive sometime later tonight and would be showing up at their first meeting tomorrow at nine, but she wasn’t going to think about that tonight. Tonight she was going to bask in her good fortune.

  She put the ice cream and spoon on her nightstand, then walked over to the bulletin board that hung on the wall straight out from the foot of her bed. There were exactly four things pinned to the board: a picture of the home she’d spent her entire childhood living in; the phone number of the couple who owned it who had recently let her know that they wanted to sell it; the loan papers that showed exactly how much money she would need to have in the bank if she wanted to make an offer on the house; and a cheesy graph she had made showing the total amount needed, complete with a red square filled in for each one hundred dollars she had saved toward that goal.

  Picking up the red marker she used to fill in the squares, she drew a line right at the top of the graph. If she managed to get this businessman who only cared about his business and making money to do all of the requirements that Graham laid out, the twenty thousand dollar bonus that Graham was offering would put her over the top on her chart.

  Elise flopped onto her bed, picked up the celebratory ice cream and spoon, and savored every spoonful of nutty, banana-y, chocolatey goodness as she gazed at her bulletin board, joy at what could potentially be hers in four short weeks filling her to the top.

  Elise’s toes sunk into the sand as she pushed to jump up and hit the volleyball. It went up in an arc near the net and her partner, HallieMae, spiked it over the net. Another one of her employees, Kale, dove for the ball and missed.

  “How are the kids’ activities looking this week, Zabrena?”

  Zabrena tossed the ball over the net to her. “Good. I’ve got a scavenger hunt through the resort lined up for this morning and painting this afternoon. Both are full. Most of the activities this week are full, actually.”

  “Five to three,” she said, serving the ball. “Good. Do you need help on anything?”

  Zabrena hit the volleyball back over the net, nice and easy right to HallieMae. “I probably will for the macaroni art project on Friday afternoon.”

  HallieMae sent it back to their side not-so-nice-and-easy.

  “I can help,” Kale said, hitting the ball back to them, then motioning at the ball as it came Elise’s direction. “Obviously I helped with that beautiful shot, but I meant on Friday.”

  Elise set herself right under the ball, clasping her hands together, arms straight. “And how about the teens, HallieMae?”

  During college, Elise hadn’t had a home to go to during the summers, so she took classes during the summer semesters, too, in order to keep her student housing. It meant she graduated a week before her twenty-first birthday, and spent that first summer at The Royal Palm on the activities committee—in the same job position that HallieMae was now working. By the end of that summer, Cyree had been so impressed with her that she offered her the job of Activities Director, and she’d been doing it now for three years.

  Her favorite thing about being a manager and having her own staff was the freedom to have their team meetings on one of the beach volleyball courts by the staff cottages. The court was on permanent reserve on Wednesday mornings at eight for them, and it quickly became one of her favorite times of the week. It was way better than leading some dull meeting in some stuffy conference room.

  HallieMae updated her on the activities planned for the teens as they played, then Kale talked about the special events they had coming up over the next month as they played in the sand, the slight breeze bringing along with it the salty scent of the waves, the sun rising over the ocean and spilling its warmth and goodness down on them.

  “And,” Kale said, jumping high next to the net, spiking the ball, “the plans for the Midsummer Ball are coming along nicely.”

  Elise dove for the ball he spiked and managed to hit it, but it only went a couple feet in the air and HallieMae couldn’t get under it enough to hit it back over the net. HallieMae tossed the ball to Zabrena.

  “So,” Kale said as he watched the ball arc over the net. “I heard you’re going to be a private activities director for some super rich guy.”

  Elise flashed a look at HallieMae. Her staff member motioned at herself and shook her head in an It wasn’t me who spilled the beans way.

  She shook her head. “I am.” It probably shouldn’t surprise her that her staff already knew—they were a tight-knit group. Still, though, it had barely been an hour sin
ce she had told HallieMae, and Cyree was the only other person who knew. Not that she hadn’t planned on telling them at this meeting anyway. “I video chatted with the man’s business partner last night. He’s hoping I can get the guy to relax if I take him on enough excursions and events, and from what he wants, it sounds like it’s going to keep me extra busy over the next four weeks. Do you three mind stepping in when I get too tied up to cover all the things I normally do?”

  They all grinned and nodded like trained dolphins. HallieMae was her only full-time employee, and the others were always eager to get more hours. That, and they all really liked to play and have fun and by helping out her as needed, they actually got paid for it.

  “I heard he’s a middle-aged curmudgeon,” Zabrena said. “Is it true?”

  Elise’s eyes cut to HallieMae, and this time she gave a sheepish Okay, I’ll admit it was me—I just couldn’t help it shrug.

  “Why?” Elise asked. “Are you looking to set him up with your mom?”

  Zabrena lifted a shoulder. “He’s middle-aged, single, and rich.” She ticked each item off on her fingers. “So he would pretty much solve all of her problems.”

  “You can’t set him up with your mom,” Elise said, pulling out her because I’m the boss and I said so voice, even though it even made her cringe. “And just a reminder that you all signed non-disclosure agreements, so no letting anyone outside of Royal Palm staff know who is a guest here. The rule even applies when it’s a man whose name you’ve never even heard before.”

  “So I can’t tell my mom his name,” Zabrena said as they all walked to a nearby table to grab drinks from their water bottles, “and I can’t set him up with my mom. But what I’m hearing is that I can invite my mom to come see me some afternoon when I’m running an event near where you’re going to be, right?”

  Elise chuckled. “Zabrena, you’re killing me! I’m pretty sure that the 'staff can’t date guests' rule applies to setting up our family members, too. Besides, your mom deserves someone way better than some rich dude who can only think about his money and his business and doesn’t remember how to have fun.”

  She glanced down at her watch, then let out a strained yelp. “Our first meeting is in ten minutes!” She looked down at her fitted t-shirt and shorts and started brushing off the sand that seemed to cover every inch of them. “I wasn’t going to play hard today so I wouldn’t get all sweaty and gross.”

  “Yeah, like that would ever happen,” Kale said. “Do you want us to pour our water bottles on your arms and legs to rinse you off?”

  Elise pondered it for half a second, then slung her bag over her head and shoved in her water bottle. “No. I’ve got to stop by the activities rooms to get my things. I’ll just run there and take a few moments to clean up before heading to the clubhouse.” She started jogging off, and called out, “Find me if you need me,” then she switched into an all-out run.

  She ran up the palm tree and shrub-lined path and onto the sidewalks, racing past perfectly manicured lawns, stone statues, flower beds, and benches. She rounded one of the pools—the one that attracted families with small kids—and slowed down as she came to a group of elderly couples out for a morning walk, chatting and laughing and not noticing that they were taking up all the space and going at a speed that was too impossible to walk at when she was this far behind schedule.

  She found an opening and jogged around the group, nearing the only other person in front of her—a man that, from the backside, looked to be about her age, wearing slacks and a button down. The activities building was in sight, and she was making a beeline toward it when the man abruptly changed directions and smacked right into her. The phone he held in one hand skittered to the wood chips under the shrubs at the edge of the path, and the coffee he held in his other hand smacked into her chest, spilling coffee all down her front.

  Elise gasped at the force of the bump and the shock of the warm liquid suddenly covering her clothes.

  “What were you—” the man said. “Why were you following so close?”

  “I was hurrying,” Elise managed to sputter.

  The man picked his phone up from the ground, tilting it in the light to make sure it was okay. “Are you okay?” he asked, then gave a frustrated growl as he looked down at his crunched up coffee cup, like it was her fault that the cup was squished and all its contents were currently being worn by her.

  Thankfully, the man’s coffee wasn’t nearly as hot as a normal person would’ve liked it. Still, though, this was going to make her so late for her meeting with Merit Casselman, and she was angry at the man’s careless attitude about bumping into her. She looked him up and down. With that face, that build, and that confident air that only came from owning a great deal of money, he was probably used to getting everything he wanted. Getting a man like that to feel anything for causing her to be late and getting coffee stains all over one of her favorite shirts was pointless. Getting mad about an accident was also pointless.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Thank you for your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m in a hurry.”

  As she speed-walked the rest of the way to the activities building, she shook off the encounter. She was working a job she loved at one of the most beautiful beaches in the world, and had a chance to earn everything she needed this summer. She wasn’t about to let herself stop enjoying all that.

  She grabbed a tub of wipes from the kids activity area on her way into her office, closed all the blinds, and locked the door. After stripping off her t-shirt and shorts, she used the wipes to clean the beach off her arms and legs and the coffee off her stomach. “The guy doesn’t even put sugar in his coffee,” she muttered as she tossed the dirty clothes in a bag, hoping they’d still be salvageable even if she didn’t get to pre-soaking them until later. “Maybe that’s why he was so annoyed.”

  Thankfully, as an activity director who worked with all ages doing all kinds of activities, she had learned long ago that it was important to keep a backup outfit in her office. So she at least had an option. She quickly pulled on a flowing blouse and some canvas shorts and then ran a brush through her hair, which had way more sand in it than she had expected.

  Then she hurried to the clubhouse, a full seven minutes late, and as Quin was greeting a couple at the host’s stand, Elise scanned the dining room for Merit. She wished she would’ve asked Graham for a picture, or Googled the guy or something. She got the sense from talking with Graham that Merit was probably somewhere around 45, but she didn’t know anything about hair color, weight, build, any of it. So she just looked for a man sitting alone, looking like he wasn’t happy that she was late.

  Her eyes landed on the man who had just spilled his coffee on her, sitting at a table with a brand new, fresh, black coffee in front of him. He must’ve desperately needed that coffee. Maybe if Quin led her to a table anywhere near him, she’d stop to suggest that a couple sugars in that coffee might brighten his outlook.

  When he returned from seating the couple, Elise said, “Good morning, Quin!”

  He gave her a warm smile back. “It’s not too often we’re graced with your presence in the mornings.”

  “You’re sweet,” she said. “I’m meeting a man by the name of Merit Casselman. Has he checked in yet?”

  “He has—let me lead you to him.”

  Chapter Three

  Nothing had gone right for Merit since yesterday when he left work and everything he had known for the past six years. When he got back to his office right after his meeting with Graham, he had brought up the company’s numbers on his computer’s monitor and had only been looking at them for two minutes when he lost the connection. He’d called IT, and they let him know that they had already flipped the switch, locking him out of the system. He’d checked his phone—it was out there, too. And trying to convince Graham that he needed to look at everything once before he left made no difference.

  But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to get in through a back door during his five-and-a-half-hour flight and layover, or during the short drive from Myrtle Beach International to the resort.