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Absentmindedly, I say, “We talked to so many people.”
We share an uncomfortable silence, in which he looks like he’s waiting for me to engage him in some sort of conversation. I wait it out. I’m not about to fill the silence with patter. Not my style.
“Burke Belcher,” he says, holding out his hand. “I was hoping you’d actually remember me from earlier. Like, way earlier. in fact.”
“Really?”
“You’re Sierra Kennedy. Surely, you remember my family?”
This is where I should get up and run away, but I’m curious how the hell this guy knows me. “Where did you get that impression? Should I?”
He laughs and nods, and I get an intensely creepy feeling that he’s about to admit he’s a Class A stalker. “My family is in the real estate business. Our families go way back; we’ve worked on several projects together.”
The hairs on my neck stand up. “Excuse me, how do you know who I am?”
He shrugs goodnaturedly, but I’m completely spooked. “Your father might have mentioned your little vacation to my father. My partner and I recently sold our tech company, so we’re celebrating by traveling around the world, so we thought we’d make a pit stop and say hello. You probably heard of our startup; my family brags about it endlessly.”
He tells me the company's name, but I have no clue what he’s talking about. He launches into a long description, none of it I understand. He speaks for about five minutes and doesn’t stop to ask me a single thing about me or what I’m doing here.
“I’m really not involved in my family’s business, so I’m sorry if I have no clue what you’re talking about at all.”
Burke, in his way, also has not a clue. “No worries. Just thought I’d do your dad a favor and put myself out there as another option for your … family planning.”
Oh. My. God. My parents somehow coerced a work colleague’s son travel all this way as a last ditch effort to keep me from having a baby out of wedlock. As much as all of this throws me for a loop, I shouldn’t be surprised. My father is a world class manipulator. And fearful. More than anything, he fears anything that might reflect poorly on the family.
I have to ask. “And you’re just okay with being asked to present yourself to me like a prize race horse?”
This guy is completely bewildering. “Well, I am the third most eligible billionaire under 40 in the Financial Times.”
I squint at him. “The Financial Times has a list of eligible bachelors?” This day gets weirder by the second.
Thank god, here comes Jax, soaked through to the skin and looking invigorated after ...whatever she and Brooks got up to after we went parasailing.
“Hey!” I wave at her like I’m half-mad, just to be sure to get her attention.
She spots me and comes running up. I wish Brooks were with her, but alas, he is not.
Burke turns and sees Jax. “Here comes trouble,” he says.
What does that even mean when people say that? He doesn’t even know us.
He turns to me and says, “It’s been wonderful talking to you, and I wondered if I could buy you a drink tonight.”
“You’re in my seat,” Jax says, her voice slightly edged with impatience.
With that, Burke stands and nods to both of us. “Well, hope to see you two tonight at Calypso. Should be worth your while.”
“Holy shit, you look hot!” The compliment comes from Jax, I glance down at my new bikini, and I admit it is the most risqué item of clothing I may have ever owned. All that’s separating my tits from direct ultraviolet rays is a piece of white cloth about the width of a man’s palm. The triangle of fabric on the bottom is even smaller. A shiver runs down my spine when I think too hard about that comparison.
“Thanks,” I say to my friend, who is graciously blocking the sun from my eyes as I look her up and down. “And you look hot too. Like a very hot, very wet drowned kitten.”
“Kitten!”
“I thought ‘drowned rat’ was insulting.”
“I’ll take it,” Jax says, plopping down on the lounge chair that I’m saving for her. I’ve packed a small cooler of water and snacks, and she immediately digs it. “Wow, thanks, mama,” she says through a mouthful of cheese and tomato sandwich that I assembled from the small grocery store at the resort.
“You’re welcome.”
