Page 7 of Just One Summer with the Grumpy

Floppy hat—check.

Sunscreen—check.

I glanced backward at the enormous resort, all bright and expensive andeverything,and felt my smile widen. Tropical paradise—check.

Grateful I’d gotten a pedicure before my flight, I slid my foot out of its sandal and dipped my toe into the pool water. Then I groaned. Perfect. I could spend all day every day out here.

And I would be getting paid to do it.

Okay, so I wasn’t a resort guest. Not officially. But since Chase also owned the resort, we were allowed to use the grounds when dressed as guests. My tiny bungalow—abungalow!—was only a quarter of a mile inland. Not quite close enough to see the beach, but still close enough to smell it. Taste it. Feel it on the wind.

This was too good to be true. Blue skies, a green rainforest all around us, the perfect temperature, the warm sun on my skin, a slight breeze, soft sand beaches . . . and Ty in my future.

“I was born for this,” I muttered, pulling my foot back onto the heated deck. I would take a dip later. Right now, all I wanted to do was lounge. Not because I was stereotypical or anything, but simply because I could.

And because tomorrow would be my first official day on the job, and I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.

A raised voice floated over the pool. Two men stood across the deck, arguing. The shorter of the two moved his hands in an animated fashion, looking defensive. The taller shook his head slowly, as if in disapproval. The taller one looked slightly familiar.

I blinked. It couldn’t be. Could it?

The man must have felt my gaze, because he turned in my direction. That confirmed it—Chase Everett, all six feet four inches of him. He wore a black T-shirt that clung to his frame in an unusually casual way, and his hair blew slightly in the breeze.

What was he doing here? I thought he’d sent me here to handle things on his behalf. Didn’t he trust that I could do the job?

Then his eyes narrowed, and I realized I was staring at him like a fool. I found a lounge chair, mentally kicking myself for the sudden heat in my cheeks. I had just as much of a right to be poolside as he did.

The shorter man barked a laugh, loud and bitter. Then he shook his head and stormed away. Chase watched him go with a strange expression on his face. Disappointment?

Seconds later, Chase disappeared into one of the resort buildings.

The man who’d argued with him emerged from the poolhouse, slammed a door, and swept toward me in a torrent of anger, muttering to himself.

Just before he passed, I leaned forward. “Difficult boss?”

He paused and released a frustrated breath. “I cannot say.” The man’s voice was slightly accented.

“You can say whatever you want to me. Chase is my boss too.” I gave him an understanding grin.

“You are the new wedding planner.” He stuck out a friendly hand, his entire demeanor suddenly welcoming. I took it and we shook hands. “I hope you last longer than the previous two. They had no chance. I don’t think Chase really wanted them to succeed.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He’s a billionaire. He owns the entire island. What’s a worker or two to him?”

I remembered the way Chase’s eyes always passed over me when he walked through the office foyer. I’d been surprised to find he knew my name, because I couldn’t remember a single time he’d actually seen me. “I know what you mean.”

He leaned in and lowered his voice. I smelled alcohol on his breath. “However, Chase may not be in charge much longer. Then all will be well. Much easier when that day comes.”

I frowned, unsure what he meant by that. “Why would he not be in charge?” The man owned the island, Everett Events, and the resort itself. Was he selling soon?

The pool man’s mouth quirked. “Just be careful, wedding planner. Stay far away from Chase Everett, or he will take you down with him.”

“The airport was so dirty,” said the woman on the phone. “And the tiny roads? Atrocious. When your company said this would be a tropical paradise getaway, I was stupid enough to believe it. You really need to work on your advertising.” She paused. “I’m so embarrassed that Kevin Franklin is coming.”

I had no idea who Kevin Franklin was, but I could tell she expected me to be impressed. “I’m sorry to hear you haven’t been enjoying your stay so far, Ms. Holland.” I fingered the list I’d been making—the plan to get Ty back. This simple piece of paper would change my life and ensure my future with the man I loved, yet here I stood, taking bridezilla calls while work piled up around me.

“How can I enjoy it when there’s nothing to do?” she moaned. “My fiancé is out there scuba diving, but I’m not certified. Sunbathing would risk my perfect tan. Even snorkeling would give me that weird tan line, you know, the ugly one on your neck and the back of your arms? No thanks.”

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