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“Be sure you do. And understand this, someone seeking to take over as chairman of St. Sebastian Enterprises needs to know how to detect such liabilities ahead of time, and neutralize them. This is your mess to clean up.”
Chapter Six
Dec. 31
11:43 p.m.
Chelsea,
Two guests decided to get a jump on their New Year’s Eve celebration, and each other, in elevator 2. They stopped between floors, (multiple times), and now it’s stuck. Can you text me the reset code?
Thx.
Lynette
Chelsea texted her assistant the reset code, stuffed her phone into her black satin evening bag, and surveyed the Grand Ballroom. Tradewinds Maui pulled out all the stops for New Year’s Eve. Lights pulsed. Crystal glinted. Champagne flowed. A band performed on a raised stage at one end of the ballroom. The cute, tattoo-adorned singer channeled Adam Levine and howled out the opening lines of “Animals.” The room bristled with energy, excitement, and, in Chelsea’s opinion, a particular blend of anticipation unique to New Year’s Eve.
A bank of glass doors leading to the hotel’s poetically named Heaven’s Gate Terrace drew her attention. Beyond, the moon hung over the ocean, pristine and round. Its pale reflection danced on the water like a blurry dream, or a memory of past mistakes—faded and insubstantial.
Bring on the clean slate. Her mistakes were behind her, and she was ready for this new phase of her life. Tradewinds suited her perfectly. Granted she’d only been here three weeks, but she appreciated the beauty of the island, the vitality of the resort, and she enjoyed working for the Templetons. Yes, she missed home, but it was a speed dial away.
Three hours ago Laurie had called from her annual Montenido New Year’s Eve bash, and they’d done the California countdown together. Listening to everyone cheering in the background had made her feel every single one of the miles separating Maui and Montenido.
She was lucky to have friends like Laurie who would hold fast no matter what distance separated them, and luckier still to have this opportunity at Tradewinds, but lucky or not, the music suddenly seemed too loud, and the blinking lights too bright. She moved toward the terrace, hoping some air and a quiet moment might help, but stopped halfway through the door when she saw a couple standing in the moonlight, kissing passionately. She looked left, then right. And sighed. Heaven’s Gate Terrace earned its name tonight. Amorous couples occupied every corner.
People, we have over four hundred rooms. Please get one.
“Chelsea Wayne, you’re a hard woman to track down.”
The deep voice flowed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut. The last time she’d heard that voice she’d been coming so hard she still felt the aftershocks every so often—like now. Pulse hammering, she opened her eyes, stared at one particularly bright star and prayed she’d just suffered some kind of weird audio hallucination, because the alternative was too awful to contemplate. But when an arm reached around her and a strong, male hand took the weight of the door she knew one of the biggest mistakes of her year stood directly behind her.
Slowly she turned, and there he was, Rafe St. Sebastian, smiling down at her like a sinful ghost of Christmas past. Her thoughts had detoured to him far too often during the last few weeks, but after leaving Las Ventanas, he was about the last person she’d expected to see again. Ever.
He definitely did not need a Santa costume to command attention. A comparatively generic tuxedo worked fine, though his probably cost more than she earned in a pay period, so maybe generic didn’t fit. But the tux certainly did. The jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, and skimmed the rest of him well enough to hint at a toned chest and a hard, flat stomach. She realized she wasn’t the only one who noticed. Rafe drew almost as many admiring stares as the view.
“I wasn’t aware anyone was looking for me,” she replied, relieved she sounded composed.
His seductive smile remained in place as he lifted an eyebrow. “In or out?”
Out to Heaven’s Gate? With him? Not even if the ballroom burst into flames. “In,” she said, and wove her way through the press of people. Maybe she’d lose him in the crowd.
No such luck. When she reached the bar, his voice rumbled in her ear again. “I wanted to speak to you. And give you this.” He pulled a small envelope from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.
She reached for the envelope, but then hesitated. “What is it?”
“Your bonus check from Las Ventanas.”
She took the envelope and tried to ignore the lingering heat his touch left on her skin. Did he feel it too? She
took her time tucking the check into her bag to keep from looking at him. The chore didn’t take long. Eventually she had to face him. “You’ve traveled a long way to play postman.”
“I was coming to Maui anyway. Playing postman was a happy coincidence.”
“How’d you find me?”
“I tapped my vast network of informants.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. A little detail she’d missed the last time they’d been standing this close.
