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Every employee I’ve seen so far has been incredibly attractive. There must be something in the water in these parts, that’s for sure.
I think I’m the only person around the table outside of my father who offers the poor girl a thank you. For me, that says it all about these people, my mother and sister included.
Tristan pulls my chair out for me without asking and very rudely takes a hold of my hand to pull me to my feet. I go easily enough because doing anything else would cause a scene and embarrass my father, but I’m immediately turned off by his lack of class.
Tristan takes hold of my elbow and quickly pulls me toward the double doors that lead outside to the deck. Thinking swiftly, I swipe my champagne flute from the table to take with me. If I’m going to make it through this, the bubbly is a must.
The air outside has lost the intense bite of heat it carried earlier that had left me sweaty every time I’d set foot outside. It’s still warm out, just no longer unbearably so. I might actually enjoy being out here more if my company was different.
In order to focus entirely on my companion, I place my forearms onto the deck railing and sip from my champagne. The rich, smooth, fruity taste explodes on my tongue, and I sigh happily.
He moves right in beside me. Super close. Ultra close. Uncomfortably close. His shoulder brushes up against mine, and I almost choke on my champagne. What did I say about oppressive cologne? Someone should tell Tristan to use it sparingly. With perfume, less is definitely more.
“So, Greer is an unusual name for such a pretty girl.”
What an asshole, seriously.
“It’s the one I was born with,” I joke but he doesn’t laugh. Crap. I’m so awkward with small talk. What now? “What are you majoring in at Yale?” There. That’s a safe topic of conversation. I’m almost pleased with myself for a whole second before he shrugs dismissively.
“Business. Boring stuff a pretty girl like you wouldn’t be interested in.”
Okay, guess not then.
And that was the second time he called me a pretty girl and talked down to me in a way I’m sure my mother would approve of. Perhaps she should be out here with him schmoozing instead of me. They’d probably get along great.
“My father insisted I join them here for the summer to get a feel for the business, which is cool and all, but I really only agreed to come for the big surfing competition coming up. I’m kind of a big deal back at school, and I can’t wait to get in the water and own it. Teach these locals a new thing or two.”
Tristan wraps his arm snugly around my shoulders and holds on tight, pulling me into his much bigger body. My head doesn’t even come up to his chin. He crowds around me and dips his head. He boldly trails his nose along my jaw and up toward my ear. A bolt of fear pierces me as he nips my earlobe with his teeth and murmurs huskily, “I’ll teach you how to surf. Maybe you’ll even be almost as good as me when I’m done with you.”
My heart beats wildly against my rib cage. For some reason I think that “when I’m done with you” doesn’t mean just surfing.
Okay, I’ve had enough of this nonsense with this guy.
I drain the rest of my drink in one go and quickly pull away from him, searching for any excuse to remove myself from his daunting presence.
“Dinner!” I choke out and clear my throat. “Dinner should be served any second now. We should be getting back. I’m starving, and the chef here is spectacular.”
A slow smile spreads across his handsome face, and I wish I felt that special spark with him because it would make my life so much more exciting. A hot summer fling with an attractive guy my parents both respect and approve of. Maybe I wouldn’t have to start college as a virgin. At the very least I could use him to check off a few experiences on my bucket list.
His big, warm hand smooths across the small of my back and hovers just above the curve of my ass. It’s far too close for my liking, and as much as Tristan might be perfect on paper, my body is definitely not on board.
Yup, not going there with Tristan.
Dinner was a rather boring affair where my mother took every opportunity to monopolize the conversation and steer it as far away from any talk of business as humanly possible.
Chelsea kept leaning over me to try and make conversation with Tristan all throughout the meal, and he blatantly ignored her to ogle my chest and boast about how awesome he is.
To make matters worse, the sexy chef didn’t make a single appearance to discuss the meal soIcould secretly oglehim.
The whole thing is depressing and thankfully finally over. I’ve got a hot date with some comfy jammies and a really good book waiting for me back in my suite that I can hear calling my name all the way from here.
“So, is that a yes?”
Shit, my daydreaming will be the death of me one day, I swear. I blink and focus back on Tristan who just spoke. He’s looking at me expectantly, and I have no idea what he was talking about. Not a single clue.
“Greer would love to go for a walk with you on the beach, Tristan.” My mother cuts into the stretched out silence filling the room. “I apologize for my daughter, Tristan. She’s still a bit jet-lagged from her long journey home from boarding school. Still, it’s no excuse for her to be so rude to you. She usually has better manners than that.”
That take down makes me flinch, and Chelsea coughs to hide her delicate snort behind her hand. Can I not do anything right by this woman? A whole summer of this just might drive me insane.
