Page 26 of Clock Strikes Paradise

I just stared at him. At this new, mature Nate. “It’s not that easy. In fact, it’s a veritable minefield.”

“So was the situation between me and Camille. When was the last time you let go with a woman?”

I scowled. “I never let go with women. Every woman I’ve ever been with has only wanted what I could provide.”

He just shot me a deadpan look. “Then maybe you need to start seeing different women, huh? Elise is hardly your usual type. This seems like the perfect setup to me.”

No. It was a non-issue. “I’m not sleeping with my assistant.”

“Whatever, man. It’s your call. All I’m saying is maybe you need to take a chance.”

I huffed out a long sigh. “I don’t take chances. I have no idea what will happen between us. If anything.”

“Well, Calypso Key seems to be a place where romance happens no matter what you intend.” He tipped his bottle up to finish his beer. “Anyway, I should get going. I’m just going to point out that Camille and I also arrived at this resort as friends and left as a couple. So don’t act like it’s impossible.”

I was going to answer that it was impossible, but the words wouldn’t come out. “We’ll see, I guess. Thanks for the talk.” I managed a weak smile, still processing what he’d said.

“Anytime, brother.”

He clapped me on the shoulder before heading out thedoor. I heard voices as he and Camille said good night to Elise. Only then did it occur to me that Nate and I had never discussed the Podium sale despite the women giving us privacy. Because I couldn’t get Elise off my mind. And now I needed to decide what came next.

Chapter Thirteen

Elise

After agreeingto the after-dinner swim with Camille, I headed toward my room. I picked up the damp mound of black fabric from my bathroom floor and grimaced at the cold, clammy feel in my hand. My sporty one-piece swimsuit was still soaked from my beach frolicking earlier in the afternoon. I hadn’t thought twice before leaving it wadded on the floor, but now I regretted that big time.

Leaving it draped over a towel rack, I padded out of the room and opened a dresser drawer. I glanced at the dark-red bikini neatly folded inside, its silky fabric beckoning me. It was a little daring, but it was dry. I hesitated, then reminded myself that I’d only be with Camille. Why would she be bothered by what I wore?

After changing, I stepped onto the pool deck, where Camille was dipping a toe in the water. She wore a sunny yellow bikini that accentuated her toned physique.

“Oh, good, you’re wearing a two-piece also.” I tried tosound casual despite the flush heating my face. “The swimsuit I’ve been using needs to dry out.”

Camille just laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Honey, please. You look fantastic! And who cares? I'm all about comfort and practicality, especially on vacation.”

She gestured toward the shimmering turquoise water. “Let’s go!” And with that, she dove gracefully into the deep end of the pool.

Yeah, Clay’s private pool had a deep end.

I descended the steps, the cool water a welcome relief against my skin. Camille was right—it was the perfect temperature. I glided through the water, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness, of freedom. As I reached the other side of the pool mid-way down the length of it, she joined me.

We treaded water for a few moments, enjoying the gentle night breeze. Camille tilted her head back, her gaze drifting toward the velvety black sky. She sighed contentedly.

“Nate and I fell in love right here at this resort,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s hard to believe it’s only been a few months.”

“I can see why,” I replied, gazing around at the serene, tropical setting. “This place is amazing. It would be the perfect place to fall in love.”

Camille smiled. “It was pretty magical. Though it took a while for us to get there.”

“Clay and Nate are close,” I said, thinking about the easy banter I'd witnessed between them since I started working for Clay. Nate had an ability to get him to open up like few others did. “It’s nice that they have such a strong bond.”

Camille nodded. “They’ve always had each other’sbacks, even when they were driving each other crazy. Like most brothers, I guess.”

“You must know them both really well,” I observed, thinking about how little I actually knew about Clay outside of his work persona.

Camille laughed. “I do! I practically grew up with them. My childhood home is right next door to the Harmons in Westport, Connecticut. Nate and I are spending a lot of time there now. Getting the place fixed up.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, picturing a cozy New England farmhouse. A stark contrast to Clay’s sleek Manhattan penthouse, which I’d never seen but could just imagine.