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I climbed the steps, and he followed. Without looking back, I could feel his eyes on my rear end. That was the reaction I expected since I had chosen my outfit accordingly, but it made me wonder. Did he know about the contract situation? He had been a perfect gentleman this entire time, friendly without giving any hints or crossing any lines.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Pierce’s contract loophole and his opinion on the biological father of his child. I certainly didn’t know if I wanted to sleep with someone else who worked for Pierce. But I was curious. I had never been in a situation like this before.
Hardly anyone has been in this situation before, I reminded myself. Nothing about this is normal. But that’s part of what intrigued me so much.
Pierce’s comment from the helicopter pad came back to me: If you do, be sure to record it.
I’d certainly never done that before. A sex tape. Just thinking about it filled me with a complex swirl of emotions. But chief among them was excitement. The intoxicating idea of doing something naughty. There was also a healthy amount of anxiety. I was afraid I would look bad on video. At the very least, it might be unflattering. Nobody ever looked as sexy as they felt. Heck, I already scrutinized every photo I posted on social media. It would be a thousand times worse with a sex video, even if the audience was just one man.
I shook off the idea. I was getting way ahead of myself. Pierce’s suggestion was still crazy, and I wasn’t even sure if I would stay here for the next two weeks.
But as I weighed my options for the next day, I realized I was enjoying being on the island. I opened my laptop and began brainstorming business plans for when all of this was over and I had money in my account. I had tried doing that on the Bellerophon, but I was distracted by the whirlwind of a man that was Pierce Benning. Now that he was gone, I was able to focus.
And there was one thing that held my focus above all else: getting even with the Bobs. Building a new marketing company from scratch and putting them out of business. Anything less than that would be a failure.
Then there was Andrew himself.
Unlike my relationship with Pierce, there wasn’t a contract looming over our friendship with sexual expectations. Everything felt so much more natural with Andrew. We hung out at the pool during the day, and went on jogs on the beach. Rather than sitting down to a formal dinner each night, we took our food into the parlor and watched TV while eating with our plates in our laps.
We both had a love of Mystery Science Theater 3000, the show where dubbed over voices made fun of bad movies. Pierce’s media library included all the old episodes, and we laughed together late into the night
“I’ve noticed you reading by the pool sometimes,” Andrew said one evening while we were watching the Creature From the Black Lagoon episode. “Got any good recommendations? I’m between books right now.”
“I don’t know if you’d like what I typically read,” I replied.
“I’m always open to new things. Try me.”
“I like fantasy romance,” I told him. “The cheesier, the better.”
Laughing, Andrew said, “Nothing wrong with that, although I haven’t read any myself.”
“What’s your normal genre?”
“Thrillers. Usually military themed, but sometimes sci-fi.”
“Tell you what,” I said, pausing the TV and turning on the couch to face Andrew. “I’ll read your favorite book if you read mine. Then we’ll regroup to discuss.”
“I’d be open to that,” he said. “I hope your favorite book is something good.”
“A Court of Thorns and Roses,” I said. “By Sarah J. Maas.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Andrew said, frowning with thought. “Aren’t they adapting it into a TV show?”
“Yep! On Hulu. It’s been in development hell though, so nobody knows when it’ll come out. What book do you have for me?”
Andrew folded one knee up close to his chin; he’d taken to wearing comfortable sweatpants while Pierce was gone. “Okay, so my favorite author is Tom Clancy. His early stuff is really good, but he got increasingly self-indulgent with his later novels.”
“One of his earlier novels, then,” I said.
Andrew looked legitimately excited now. “There are three options, all of which are great. His best written novels are probably Hunt for Red October or Clear and Present Danger.”
“I didn’t ask for the best written,” I clarified. “I asked for your favorite book.”
He grinned widely. “I’m glad you made that distinction, because my favorite book of his is Red Storm Rising. It’s the second book he published.”
“It’s not a depressing book about nuclear war, is it?”
“Actually no!” he replied cheerfully. “It involves a third world war, but it’s fought exclusively with conventional weapons, rather than nuclear bombs.”
