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CHAPTERFOUR
Damon
It’s hot enough once we exit the shuttle to our hotel that the first thing I plan to do is peel off my suit and jump into an ice-cold shower.
Chuck’s wife, Brandi, bounds out of the compact van, raising her sparkly sunglasses above her head, and scaling her eyes up the outside of the giant building. She’s a tiny thing, but true to the redhead stereotype, her height has nothing on her ten-foot attitude.
A small group of young women in colorful thong bikinis passes by, pulling Brandi’s attention along with them.
When her eyebrows raise suggestively, I can’t help the chuckle.
“You’re worse than a man.”
I’m gifted a wolfish grin. “If you need me, I’ll be by the pool.”
Chuck is busy working his way out of our ride, dragging both of their suitcases. A floppy sunhat sits lopsided on his head, and a thin white scarf flaps around his neck.
“Brandi, could you quit eyeing the ass around here and help the one you married with our things?” he asks.
“Well, at least he admits it,” she whispers behind her hand. To Chuck, she beams. “Here, babe. Let me handle the bags, and you stand watch.”
Beads of sweat mark the man’s temples when she bounces over and plucks the hat from off his head. As soon as they’ve gotten their belongings to side of the vehicle, Chuck snags Brandi by the wrist and swats her butt with his free hand.
She squeals, he chastises her for daring to belittle his manhood, and then they’re making out without another word.
“Dear God,” I say on a breath, suddenly thankful I decided to get my own room.
My supervisor and his girlfriend beeline toward me, missing the show going on behind them, but I’m all too familiar with the way the Rhoadses work. I might roll my eyes, if they weren’t so damn cute.
“Damon.” Vedant greets me with arms wide open. “How are you? We haven’t had a chance to catch up.”
His accent rolls around each word as I’m given no choice but to accept the spine-crushing embrace. Vedant’s a hugger.
“Nothing new to report, Mr. Patel. We’ve missed you at the office.”
I’m not surprised to see him in a lavender suit and light brown dress shoes. As long as I’ve known the man, he’s always dressed to impress. In fact, I’d be shocked if the bathing suit he brought wasn’t a three piece.
Light brown skin crinkles around a pair of wise eyes. “Bullshit. But I do appreciate the ass kissing.”
Vedant and the other guys tend to butt heads. They respect him because he’s our supervisor, but they don’t always understand why he pushes us as hard as he does. Which is why I won’t be telling him about the drawing I found on the whiteboard in the break room involving him deep throating Captain America.
“And it’s Vedant, not Mr. Patel. How many years have we worked together, and I’m still reminding you of this?” The point of his elbow nudges my arm.
I laugh. “My grandfather practically beat my manners into me, sir.”
Everyone wassirorma’amto Grandad, no matter their status. Doors are held open, messes are cleaned, and just like he used to say—any man with a lick of sense never leaves the toilet seat up.
Vedant’s hand rests on his girlfriend’s lower back.
“Shaylea, this is Damon, my senior app developer. He was the team leader for our OneDate project last year.”
I’ve only heard stories of her from some of the guys at the office, but I suppose with long blonde hair, bold blue eyes, and a model-thin figure, she fits their idea of a “trophy wife.”
She’s also about half his age.
“Wow.” Her thick black lashes flutter as she smiles coyly. “Vedant’s told me so much about you.”
I release Shaylea’s enthusiastic hold. “Only good things, I hope.”
