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A splash of water, a squeal, and I’m choking on chlorinated pool water.
“You okay, Melanie?”
Brian, one of the investors on this trip, calls out as he swims by with broad strokes. We’ve been put on the same team today and his enthusiasm is a little…much.
“Fine,” I call back, fighting down my irritation.
The lodge has us scheduled for pool-based team building games today. Friendly competition, the supervising staff member said earlier, but this doesn’t feel friendly.
I backstroke to the far end of the pool and take in the scene. Two teams, six people on each. Brian leads the one I’m on, with Liza, who is still shooting me distrusting looks, a marketing team member named Jared who won a lottery to come, and two HR employees who look like unhappy cats in a bathtub.
The opposing team has Roy on it and he’s laughing uproariously as each team tries to figure out how to get the other’s rings. They’re pool rings that sink to the bottom, blue for our side, red for the other. Brian has decided on an offense instead of a defense and shouts words of encouragement as he lunges toward the other side of the pool.
Seeing an opportunity, I dart to the side and go under, cursing my decision to do this for Jenson. But then, he is paying me a large chunk of money. So I keep my complaints to myself and snag a red ring, pushing off the wall of the pool and back to our end.
A cheer goes up as I hold up the ring. It’s all good-natured, but there’s one person who doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself.
Jenson sits on a pool chair, glowering. We were separated earlier today onto different teams. As soon as this game is over, he and his team will go up against another while I sit it out and hopefully sip a margarita.
Something is off, though. I pull myself up out of the pool, slicking my hair back, and watch Jenson closely. He’s not looking at me, but at a young man who appeared a few hours ago, seemingly out of nowhere. And gave Roy Dupont an encompassing hug.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yes. Fine.”
He still doesn’t look at me. I stand up and wring my hair out, walking over and sitting in his lap. Jenson startles.NowI have his attention.
His hands settle on my hips and his eyes drag down my body. The water streaming from my suit—a black number that crisscrosses over my chest and stomach, barely covering my ass—is soaking into his lap. I feel a very familiar twitch from between his legs and bite back a smirk.
There he is.
It’s nice to finally have the upper hand.
“Mel,” Roy says happily, coming over to get a beer from the poolside bar, “are you aware of just how competitive your fiancé is? You’re in for a treat.”
I give him a smile, leaning back against Jenson’s bare chest. He’s hot from the sun. “You know, I’ve never seen him do something like this, so it should be interesting.”
“Jenson.” We both look up to find the man from earlier sauntering over. He has dark hair and eyes, a permanent smirk on his face. “And who’s this? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. It’s a ridiculous display, and I want to pull my hand back, but don’t want to appear rude.
Jenson’s arm tightens around my waist.
“Melanie,” he says shortly. “My fiancé. Mel, this is Zach.”
Zach’s eyes don’t leave mine. It’s as if Jenson isn’t there, and I fight the urge to squirm, uncomfortable with the attention.
“A pity. Jenson seems to get everything he wants.”
The vibe in this moment is definitely awkward. Roy clears his throat as Jenson’s arm tightens even further. Zach drops my hand and gives us all a smirk.
“Zach is my stepson,” Roy explains. “He’s been wanting to be more involved with the business. I wasn’t aware until this morning that he’d be joining us here at the retreat.” There’s a hint of sourness in his words, and although Zach claps an arm over the old man’s shoulders, I’m not so sure Roy is thrilled at his appearance.
The staff member overseeing this activity calls everyone to order and asks that the next two teams come to the pool.
“Hey,” I whisper, turning my head so only Jenson can hear me, “whatever’s up with you, calm down, okay?”
He doesn’t answer, just glowers at me and snaps the back of my bottoms, the spandex stinging.
“Jenson!”
