Page 13 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

No, he’s not going to be the one to take my virginity. I sigh, because it would’ve been fun. And there’s no way in hell I’m actually getting this job, especially with Claudette gunning for me to be sent home. But I could make an impression and get a reference.

Yes, I decide as I exit the cabana. I’m going to scour this resort looking for details that might make all the difference and come up with a plan. With any luck, I’ll walk out of here firmly embedded in Mr. Delaney’s mind.

I make my way over to the main building and enter the cool back of the lobby. The smell of food being served in the restaurant grabs my attention and I wander over to the hostess station.

There’s no one there. I wait a few moments before craning my neck at the people in the dining room and get a wave from a server.

“Seat yourself,” she calls. “We’re not fully staffed yet.”

I nod and wander through the empty tables, taking a seat at a booth that overlooks the pool. There’s a couple out there. The older gentleman is swimming while his wife looks uncomfortably hot under a large shade umbrella, leaning into the misguided misters.

Nolan appears, no longer wearing swim trunks. He’s in casual clothes now, like me. Dark slacks with a white shirt. No tie. Sleeves rolled up to reveal is perfectly tanned forearms. He says something to the woman, smiling, as he leans in and redirects the mister so that the water will soothe her skin properly.

She smiles and says something. Probably a heartfelt thank you. This heat is not good. People still go to Las Vegas and Palm Springs in the summer, but they stay inside. I looked over the amenities book in the cabana before taking my swim. This resort seems to have a lot of outdoor activities and very little to do inside except the spa. No one will want to come here in the summer if that’s all there is to it. I wouldn’t.

“Hi,” the server says, coming up to my booth. “I’m Elizabeth and I’ll be preparing your food today. I’m still finalizing the menu, but we’re stocked with just about everything, so choose your favorite dish and I’ll whip it up.”

“Really?” I ask. “Anything?”

“Pretty much,” Elizabeth says. “I’ve been cooking for about fifteen years now and not much can surprise me.”

“Hmm,” I say, taking my gaze back to Mr. Delaney out by the pool. I’d like him on my menu. Focus, Ivy. “Where did you work before coming here, Elizabeth?”

“Oh, I was teaching at a culinary school in New York.”

“Big change, huh?”

“Very big.” Elizabeth laughs. “But it’s exciting too.”

“Well, I’d like something light for now. Maybe you could just give me a nice green salad? Do you have croutons? That’s my favorite part of a salad.”

“I can make them fresh in just a few minutes. Anything else?”

“No,” I say, once again distracted by Nolan Delaney. “That’s all.”

She walks away and leaves me to my thoughts. Which is all aflutter when I notice Nolan making his way inside. I watch him as he stops at the restaurant. Come in here and talk to me, I silently beg.

He catches my eye and shoots me the same disarming smile from our encounter at the private pool earlier.

I practically melt. His sister was right. The charm oozes out of him, even from a distance. How does a man with so much negative baggage have the right to be so damn handsome?

Shit, here he comes. What will I say? I look around nervously, aware that I’ve already pissed off Claudette once this afternoon.

Be cool, Ivy. Be cool.

“Miss Rockwell,” Nolan says when he’s close enough to my table to talk in a normal tone.

“Mr. Delaney,” I say back with a smile. “Your sister doesn’t want me to talk to you. She says you’re quite a player.”

What the hell, Ivy? That is not the definition of cool!

“Is that right,” Nolan says, slipping into the booth across from me. “Mind if I sit?”

“Of course not.”

“Claudette’s warnings aren’t enough to scare you off?”

“I’m not afraid of a challenge,” I say back. Smooth, Ivy. Smooth recovery.