I approach, keeping my steps quiet. She doesn’t hear me until I’m behind her. “Looking for a minibar, or plotting your escape route?”
She startles—slightly—but recovers fast. Her arms cross. Eyes narrow. “Coffee,” she says, dry as ever. “If I don’t find caffeine soon, I will become a public safety issue.”
I nod down the hall. “Breakfast is set up on the veranda.”
“Thanks,” she mutters, brushing past me.
She’s wearing my T-shirt, knotted at the hip over the slacks she had on last night. Somehow, she’s made the ensemble fashionable. My clothes have never looked that good—or that off-limits. She glances at the folder in my hand. “Spreadsheets in the morning?”
“I always start my day with coffee and a side of numbers.”
Her brow arches. “You seem more like a Lucky Charms kind of guy.”
I go still for half a second, scanning for anyone who might be close enough to hear. No one here would know that about me—my favorite childhood breakfast. No one but her. She’s playing a dangerous game and doesn’t even know it. One wrong comment, one curious ear, and suddenly it’s not just a joke between us—it’s a crack in the armor. A reason for someone like Ramirez to ask questions I can’t afford.
I should go back to my room, then head out to my meeting, but I find myself walking with her to the veranda. Her eyes light up when she sees the buffet table set up with fresh fruit, eggs, and pastries. She zeroes in on a croissant and starts to reach for it.
I get there first.
“Hey?”
“Sorry,” I say, taking a big bite just to prove the point. I rotate the pastry so she can see the chocolate layered between the buttery pastry. “You don’t like chocolate.”
She glares and steps around me, grabbing coffee instead. With a mug in hand, she walks to the railing, her profile framed by the lake in front of her. “It’s almost too beautiful to be real.”
“Sure is,” I reply before I can stop myself.
She glances back, eyes catching mine. And for a second, it’s not a game.
“Will you have time to sightsee while you’re here?” I ask, trying to shove the moment back into the box where it belongs.
“A little this morning,” she says. “Mr. Edmond gave me the morning off to sleep and grab some clothes in town before our meetings.”
The breeze lifts a strand of hair, making it dance against her neck, and I swallow. Hard.
I need to leave. I need to prep for the meeting. I need to stop looking at her like she’s anything but a potential liability.
Then she turns those eyes on me. “How long have you been working for him?”
I rock on my heels. “Who?”
“Mr. Ramirez, the man who paid for all of this.”
“Not long,” I say.
“And yet here you are. Private jets and views for days.”
“Just a day and a half,” I correct her. “But yeah, the job comes with perks.”
“I bet it does,” she mumbles into her coffee.
“Sorry?”
“Nothing.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I want to ask why, but before I can, she’s already moving.
“You’re not having breakfast?”
She eyes the buffet table and the plain croissants. “I’ll grab something in town. Thanks for letting me borrow this,” she says, tugging the hem of my T-shirt. “I’ll get it back to you today.”
