Page 7 of Clock Strikes Paradise

I remained silent, not wanting to boast or downplay their enthusiasm. I had been certified for years as well, but I took a refresher course a week ago to ensure I was adequately prepared for any challenges we might find beneath the waves.

Elise’s infectious excitement was endearing, and I found myself looking forward to sharing this experience with her. An image of her in a string bikini flashed into my mind and I felt like slapping myself.

Get a grip, idiot! She’s your assistant, remember?

“I’m sure you’ll both do fine,” Evan said, his warmth evident in his smile. “April is an exceptional divemaster, and she’ll make sure you all have a safe and enjoyable time. If there’s anything else you need during your stay, don’t hesitate to contact me directly.” He handed us each a business card.

“Thank you, Evan,” I responded, shaking his hand firmly. As he took his leave, I noticed his slight limp once again. A reminder that even in paradise, life had its trials.

After settling into my cottage,which more than met my needs, our little trio met for lunch. As I took my seat at the wooden table of the resort’s casual dining restaurant, Dorado, sunlight glittered on the surface of the nearby free-form pool. A decorated Christmas tree with wrappedpresents underneath stood in one corner. Elise slid into a chair across from me, the light bringing out hints of honey and cinnamon in her hair. She’d traded her business suit for a breezy pink sundress that bared her slender shoulders and collarbones. I caught myself staring at the hollow of her throat and quickly lifted my eyes.

Bart dropped into the chair beside me with a grunt and grabbed his menu. “I’m starving. I wonder what’s good here. I gotta say, this place sure beats the cold courtroom back home. My soon-to-be ex-wife is putting me through the wringer.”

The last thing I wanted to do was discuss Bart’s marital problems, so I asked Elise the first thing that popped into my head. “I hope your family life is more enjoyable than Bart’s.”

She blinked in surprise, like she couldn’t believe I’d asked. “Oh, uh, my parents are still back in Millbrook, where I grew up. No boyfriend or anything.”

I noticed theno boyfriendcomment, though I kept my face expressionless. In truth, I was rather nonplussed to realize that I knew almost nothing about her. After three years of working together. Then she smiled, and my eyes focused on her face. Had that little dimple in her cheek always been there?

“I grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania, but I’ve always yearned for the big city,” she continued. “So I’ve had the best of both worlds.”

After ordering, we settled into conversation. It was a new dynamic for us, less strained and formal. Even Bart became less smarmy, and Elise stopped scooting her chair away from him.

After lunch, I headed down the beach to check on Podium’s two top bidders. Both were in theirfifties. Laurent Dubois answered the door in a silk robe, polite but standoffish. Though dressed casually, his trimmed salt-and-pepper hair was neatly styled. He insisted he didn’t need a thing.

Several cottages down the beach, Celeste Rhodes was much warmer, exclaiming about the beautiful cottage and thanking me for the special treatment. Her ash-blonde hair was cut to her shoulders and her loose pants and white blouse were both professional and suitable for the warm climate. I invited both on tomorrow’s diving excursion, but Laurent looked mortified that I’d even suggest it. Celeste politely declined, citing a preference for beach time.

With formalities and welcomes completed, I headed back. The minute I was back in my cottage, I changed into board shorts. The cool water of my private pool felt amazing on my skin after the island heat. Though my pool had an expansive view of the beach and ocean, the cottage’s location at the far eastern end ensured privacy. I sank down until just my head was above the surface, leaning back and closing my eyes.

When I’d had enough and was toweling off, tomorrow’s dive played through my mind. I could already picture the swaying sea fans and schools of tropical fish. I smiled to myself, cracking open a local craft beer that I retrieved from the minifridge in my living room. With a sigh, I sat at the table on my pool deck. The cold brew was crisp and bright, with hints of citrus. It perfectly complemented the warm breeze drifting in off the sea.

This getaway might be just what I needed. I couldn’t wait to get in the water tomorrow. Out here, it felt like the rest of the world barely existed.

But it did exist.

And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, I turned my mind to our welcome reception in an hour. Time to getready. As I slipped back inside my bedroom, an errant thought flitted through my brain. What might Elise wear tonight… Business attire like this morning or a breezy dress like this afternoon? A smile raised my lips. Alone inside my cottage, I could indulge in the forbidden fancy. After all, I’d never act on it.

Chapter Four

Elise

I finished unpacking,placing the last of my clothes in the dresser drawers and setting my toiletries on the bathroom counter. My gaze swept around the modern, airy bathroom with its gray stone counter and white tiled walk-in shower. I certainly couldn’t fault the accommodations. I changed into comfortable leggings and a tank top, relieved to be out of my constricting business suit, then padded into the large, main room.

My cottage was gorgeous. When I’d spoken to Evan prior to the trip, he found me a garden cottage, their simplest accommodations. And I was grateful to get that with so little notice, yet I ended up in a room with a stunning ocean view. I suspected Clay had upgraded me—Evan hadn’t said anything about a choice in rooms. The thought caused my stomach to do a quiet little flip-flop.

Despite the calming view and the plush surroundings of my cottage, I couldn’t shake the restless energy humming through my body now that I was actually here. The whitewalls and warm wood floors of the spacious room did little to soothe me. I grinned at my little angel, safe and sound on my nightstand. A king-sized bed with a white striped comforter and an abundance of pillows in soothing blues and greens sat in the back corner of the room, but sleep was the last thing on my mind.

I paced back and forth, my bare feet silent against the cool wooden floor. The three banker’s boxes of documents were neatly arranged in the corner and my eye kept landing on them. The enormity of the task ahead, helping organize the sale of Podium and the upcoming New Year’s Eve gala, felt like a physical weight on my back. My carefully crafted to-do list for the next few days was already three pages long.

I glanced at my phone, noting the time. Less than four hours until the cocktail reception to welcome our potential buyers. I headed for the sliding door that led to my private deck overlooking the ocean. I needed fresh air. Now.

Stepping outside, the warmth of the late afternoon sun embraced me. The gentle sea breeze carried the scent of salt air and blooming plumeria, a sweet, exotic fragrance that did little to ease the tension knotting my shoulders.

I set off on a walk, following a winding path that meandered through the resort. The carefully manicured lawns and swaying palm trees were a picture of tropical paradise, a stark contrast to the wintery streets I'd left behind in New York. As I rounded a bend in the path, I spotted an elegant man seated at a table near the pool bar. A young woman, dressed in a revealing sundress, draped herself across him, her expression haughty and bored.

I recognized him instantly. Laurent Dubois was one of the two potential buyers for Podium. I'd studied his photo during my meticulous internet research, making a note ofhis sharp jawline and the arrogant glint in his eye. Seeing him in person, I found my initial assessment confirmed.

He shook his empty glass as a server approached them. Laurent barely acknowledged the young man, his mouth curled with disdain as he snapped his fingers impatiently. “Another round,” he demanded, his tone clipped and condescending despite his elegant French accent. Irritation surged through me on the server's behalf, along with a growing unease about the upcoming negotiations. Laurent was clearly a man accustomed to getting his own way.