Page 26 of Boss Me

“How much farther?” I asked Ramón. We’d lost sight of the main part of the resort, and it’d been a couple of minutes since we’d passed one of the beachfront bungalows.

“Almost there,” he grunted. He shouldered most of Cooper’s weight.

Ahead, a white stucco wall came into view. The path turned sharply away from the beach, but a smaller path led to a metal gate in the wall.

“Your card, señor.”

“Hmm?”

When Ramón released Cooper, I staggered under his weight. He patted my boss’s pockets, and from his right trouser pocket pulled a key card. Not white like mine but gold plastic that glittered in the red rays of sunset.

He waved it in front of a sensor at the gate, and we dragged Cooper through. The property in front of us was breathtaking. The back of the single-story stucco house was all windows overlooking a landscaped private pool and, beyond a low wall with another gate, the beach. We approached the house from the back deck among hibiscus and bougainvillea. Sweet jasmine mixed with the sea breeze as we weaved between a round patio table and chairs and a wicker sectional.

When we reached the house, Ramón waved the key card at another sensor, and the glass door slid open into a living room with furniture turned toward the view of the pool and beach.

Like he knew the place, Ramón turned down a hall to the right and opened the door of a bedroom. Its enormous window gave us a heart-stopping view of the sun setting over the beach. But I was too sweaty and exhausted to admire it. We let Cooper flop onto the foot of the bed. He bounced once and then sank onto the mattress, his dark sweater and trousers a contrast to the white sheets.

“This’s nice,” he muttered. “I’m gonna give you all stock shares. Ssssynergy ssstock.” His eyelids fluttered shut.

Ramón and I exchanged a look.

“You got him from here?” Ramón asked, wiping perspiration from his brow with his sleeve.

“Yeah, I—I guess so?”

Cooper sighed, already asleep. But I couldn’t leave him there alone after drinking that much.

“I had them take your bag to your room,” Ramón said. “Want me to bring it here?”

I thought of my clean clothes. My toothbrush. The face lotion I used before bed. But I served others for a living, and I wasn’t about to make someone—certainly not Ramón, who’d also gone above and beyond—schlep it to me.

“No, I’ll be fine tonight. Thank you. For everything.”

“De nada. See you around, Ben.” He winked and then disappeared down the hall.

A light snore buzzed from the bed, and I turned my attention back to Cooper. He’d be hot sleeping in that sweater. And pants. But even above and beyond didn’t cover undressing my boss. Touching his bare skin. Checking him out in his boxers…or briefs? I shivered. I’d turn down the air conditioning so he’d be comfortable.

His dress shoes hung off the end of the bed, dusty from the shells on the path. I eased off one and then the other, then I took them into the en-suite bathroom, where I wiped them, along with my Chucks, with a damp cloth. Didn’t he have a pair of flip-flops?

I went to his closet, where, as I’d expected, Cooper had unpacked his bag and hung up his clothes. Another wool sweater in soft camel. A trio of rumpled dress shirts, each of them worn at least once, and two suit coats and a blazer, unworn. Two pairs of wrinkled suit pants hung limply on separate hangers. Folded on the top shelf of the closet was a silky pair of basketball shorts and a high-tech workout shirt. A pair of sneakers stood rigid beside them. No flip-flops, no T-shirts, not even a pair of jeans.

I found the resort’s laundry bag and filled out the order sheet. I stuffed the trousers and shirts into it and followed the instructions to call the front desk and leave the bag outside the front door.

The bungalow’s kitchenette, stocked with upscale appliances, was open to the living room. Everything was decorated in beachy neutrals: white, sand, and pale blue with the occasional coral accent. Not a glass or plate was out of place, and I couldn’t tell if that was because Cooper was as much of a neat-freak on vacation as he was in the office or if it was because he’d only slept here and spent every waking hour getting drunk in the bar.

On the other side of the living room were two smaller bedrooms. One was decorated in neutrals like the rest of the house. The other was clearly intended for a woman. The hibiscus-print bedspread, the lacy cover on the nightstand, and the pair of suspense novels stacked on top of it tightened my throat. Which woman stayed here so often he’d decorated for her?

Though…the bedroom was separate from Cooper’s. He’d set it up for a woman he didn’t sleep with?

I cast one more longing glance at the other guest bedroom and then used the guest bath. I found a new toothbrush and toothpaste, so I had that small comfort. Finally, I shuffled back to Cooper’s room.

He’d turned onto his side, tucking his knees up and cradling the pillow. He looked peaceful, innocent. I tamped down my urge to brush the damp hair from his sweaty forehead.

Instead, I turned the thermostat down to sixty, grabbed the spare blanket and pillow from his closet, and flicked off the light. Curling up on the small sofa in the bedroom, I let pure exhaustion carry me off to sleep.

10

COOPER

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