Later that day, everyone piles into the impressive-looking conference room with Brock and his team seated at the long table.
The moment of truth has arrived.
It’s a stark contrast between the two sides.
Besides Destiny and I, everyone from Wired Cup is pushing forty, if not older.
Brock Winthrope himself is closer to my age than Cole’s—and probably the oldest person on his team of hawk-eyed, stylishly dressed twenty-somethings.
Cole insisted on looking sharp, and now I see why.
Even Destiny shows up in a nice blouse and skirt that makes her look ten years older.
Brock wears a light blue suit, but the rest of his people are more casual. There’s a woman in a three-quarter sleeve tee and a mini skirt, and a guy in a blue-and-gold Versace button-down shirt.
Mini Skirt takes one look at us and practically sneers. “Mr. Winthrope, this presentation feels…dated. Are you sure this stuff is suitable for the younger crowd?”
Destiny steps in front of me—and before I can stop her—clears her throat so loudly their heads turn to face her.
“Mr. Winthrope, hi. Can I ask you a question? How many of your under-thirty guests would kill for coffee? The kind they can’t get anywhere else.” Destiny smiles.
I can’t help but smile.
The kid’s seriously brave. There’s no way I would’ve had the courage to challenge a billionaire at fifteen.
“Our guests are a mixed demographic,” Winthrope says with some amusement in his eyes. “We get some honeymooners and young people with their parents. A lot of business guests come in the winter months. Some are under thirty, and a lot of them aren’t.”
“Is hip really what you’re after, though? From your Insta, I kind of thought you went for sophisticated.” Destiny holds his gaze.
“Fair observation. I do.” He nods firmly.
Mini Skirt scowls at Dess and slouches in her chair.
Brock’s whole team files in then and sits across from us.
“How many drinks are you slinging today?” he asks.
“Four,” I say with a smile. “Do you want to start with espresso or the drip brew?”
“The drip. If I didn’t have to taste it, I’d ask for an IV.”
I laugh politely. It’s nice to see a guy even richer than Cole with a sense of humor, even if his jokes seem dumb.
“Wonderful. We’ll start with the Kona campfire basic brew then. It’s actually the perfect starting point since this is the original inspiration for today’s espresso drinks.” Neat rows of white tasting cups sit in front of each of us. I wait for the staff to fill each one before I pick up my white cup labeled “K” and hold it up like a precious chalice.
“If you all want to grab a ‘K’ cup, that’s the Kona campfire brew.” I bring it to my mouth and sip anxiously. My tongue doesn’t work and I don’t taste much while I wait for them.
Brock lifts his cup, turning it over slowly in his fingers. He takes a small sniff and then throws it back in one gulp.
His face goes blank…and thoughtful? I hope.
Does that mean he likes it?
Oof. If he doesn’t, he’ll hate everything.
My stomach knots. I’m not used to people hating my stuff, and I can’t afford to blow it with this crowd.
Mini Skirt takes a small sip and sets the cup down. Her face screws up as she says, “Well. It’s okay. A little sweet.”
Big yikes.
Also, it’s peaberry coffee. That’s the trademark flavor profile.
What the hell was she expecting?
But the room goes quiet as Brock clears his throat.
“It’s surprisingly delicate—at the same time, the flavor couldn’t be more robust. I’m fucking impressed.” My heart soars, but he holds up a finger. “However, bear in mind I have to please everyone at my resorts. That’s why I travel with a team, and today I’ve brought two of my finest people, my head chef from Lanai and a sommelier with twenty years refining her palate.”
Oh, God.
While a professional wine taster doesn’t know coffee, they have sensory skills that can rival a bloodhound. If there’s anything off with my drinks, they’ll find it.
For now, the rest of the team compliments the coffee while the golden duo step forward.
Cole has been lingering near the back after greeting Winthrope.
Now, he stands up and comes close to me, his presence so thick and warming it’s like I can feel him holding me even when he can’t do it openly.
It feels like an eternity as the chef and professional taster do three rounds of tastings, clearing their mouths with water each time.
“It gets a solid A from me, chief,” the chef says.
Brock nods happily and all eyes turn to the sommelier, a thin birdlike woman with glasses that seem too big for her face. She holds up her cup, peering through it, her lips pursed in an unreadable line.
“It’s a complex beverage. Remarkably faithful to the flavors of Kona while also standing on its own. While it may not pair with everything—not without checking every item on the menu, at least—I think, Mr. Winthrope, that you have an acceptable headline coffee.”
Acceptable?
Oh, my God.
Coming from her, it feels like having a gold medal hung around my neck.
I almost can’t believe that Mini Skirt’s “It’s okay,” is the worst criticism the coffee gets.
When it’s all over, after showing off the special espresso drinks, I exhale so long I’m light-headed and floating.
I did it.
Brock Winthrope wants to sign a contract today thanks to my work.
I turn to Cole, grinning, and absentmindedly throw my arms around him. He swings an arm around me, leans in close like he’s about to kiss me, and freezes.
“Eliza,” he whispers hoarsely.
Oh, crapsticks.
What was I thinking?
We’re in a meeting surrounded by co-workers and clients. Not his bedroom. Not the beach.
I wince at how easy it is to slip and fall so effortlessly into lust with him that my brain exits my body.
“Oh, sorry.” My voice is louder than I intend as I pull away. “I’m just so happy for you. Congratulations.”
Cole nods, watching me carefully.
I tense, wondering if my impulsive little hug blew our cover…
Did anyone else notice? My eyes scan the room nervously.
Destiny is on the other side of me, within arm’s reach and still glued to her phone, thank God.
Brock Winthrope crosses the room with a bright smile in his eyes for both of us. “A word of advice, Lancaster. Keep her employed at all costs. Beauty, brains, and art doesn’t grow on trees.”
…that advice doesn’t sound bad.
“Relax. I have no intention of letting her get away,” Cole says.
I let out a tiny sigh of relief I hope no one else hears.
“I have a contract ready with all the terms previously discussed.” Kate pulls two thick packets of paper out of a black binder. She passes one to Cole and the other to Winthrope, who immediately starts reading it.
Soon, people start filing away from the table as I begin to understand less and less of what Cole and Brock are saying in their legalese.
“It’s naptime,” Destiny whispers with a disgusted smirk.
I can’t disagree.
“I saw someone bringing in a dessert tower earlier. I think there were macaroons,” I whisper back.
Destiny laughs and we start scanning the room together.
“Sweet. Let’s go find some cookies,” she says.
We gravitate toward a table at the back where a decadent spread of Hawaiian snacks and desserts are laid out. We each grab a handful of bite-size pastries. I’m happy to get my hands on everything coconut.
“Let’s get out of here. No sense in wasting more of this beautiful day.” She leads me to another balcony I didn’t even know existed.
Yeah, I’m starting to think I’ll never fathom the sheer size of this house.
She walks up to the thick wooden railing and leans against it, her dirty-blond hair rippling in the breeze.
“Gorgeous spot,” I say. “But I don’t think there’s a single ugly one here.”
“There is.” The way she says it surprises me. Her voice drops. “I kind of dreaded coming here, Eliza, but it’s been fun. Thanks for making this trip so easy. Honestly, I’m not sure I would have gotten through it smiling without you.” Destiny pops a cookie into her mouth and chews harshly.
I try not to stare, wondering where this is coming from.
What’s she talking about?
Hawaii hardly seems like some bitter ordeal to grind through. But I’ve clearly touched an emotional nerve.
She whips her head around, pretending she’s stuffing another cookie in her mouth, but she isn’t fast enough.
I notice the hot tear that rolls down her cheek.
“Hon, forgive me, but I’m not sure what you mean,” I say gently, moving closer.
“It’s just…it’s so gorgeous here, but we haven’t been since I was a kid. I just didn’t think I could ever be happy here again. Not after…” She pauses. “After my mom washed up on the beach…this place felt like poison.”
I freeze. Turn. Stare at her.
“What?” It comes out in a stunned whisper.
She sniffs hard, still not looking at me.
“I actually thought I was allergic to warm beaches for a long time, Eliza. When Dad took me to Asia, my throat closed up. I couldn’t breathe. Some kind of anxiety or panic attack. We spent like the whole time in the hotel because just walking by a beach upset me that much.”
I can’t decide if my heart skips or breaks for her.
“You poor thing,” I whisper, laying a soft hand on her back. “I’m so sorry, Destiny. I didn’t know what happened to your mother.”
She’s ugly crying now, wiping red eyes with her shaking hand.
“I-it’s fine. The point is, I smiled. I laughed. Every day I’ve been here. I even got on a boat and surfed and swam with turtles… I couldn’t have done any of that without you. Oh, and I was worried about Dad, too, but he looked so happy with…with you.”
“Well, he’s got a lot to smile about considering he’s signing a contract for the world’s most expensive coffee,” I say carefully, still feeling a little shell-shocked.
Wow. So, this is the big tragedy everyone keeps tiptoeing around.
No wonder she’s been so busted up.
“You know what, new rule. Nobody gets to be sad in Kona. Not if you want to avoid the eight-armed hug.”
“Eight-armed what?” she echoes.
I throw my arms around her and pull her into a bear hug, wrestling her around until she laughs. “I octo-hug you like I have eight arms.”
“Hey! Not fair,” she whispers, but I’m glad she’s smiling now.
“So your parents—your family, I mean—all stayed here when you were young?” I venture.
“Yeah. This was a messed up place for us until this trip,” she says, her face dropping again. “Mom died here and Dad…he just completely changed.”
Sadness pierces my heart.
A terrible thought invades my head.
Has Cole been making love to me? Or a memory?
Am I a surrogate for his dead wife?
Bile churns in my gut so violently I almost gag.
Destiny moves away from me, and that’s when I notice a golden turtle hanging around her neck, glittering in the sunlight.
“Whoa. New necklace?”
She looks down, pinching the turtle between her thumb and forefinger. “Oh I—I found it in Mom’s old room…”
Her mom had her own room? Has her own room?
Like some kind of memorial or shrine to her?
I wonder.
I also wonder if the late Mrs. Lancaster slept in a separate room from her mister? And if so, why?
“She still has a room in the house?” I ask neutrally.
“Yeah. She had an artistic side, and I guess she liked to paint there. Kalani—one of the older housekeepers—she said my mother was a great painter. And she loved the lighting in that room best every time she was here.”
So, she didn’t have her own room-room then.
She had a studio.
And apparently it’s still there, filled with her belongings, a shrine to someone they clearly can’t forget…
I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel.
Probably not this weird mix of sadness and worry and self-doubt foaming up inside me.
“The staff kept everything the same since we left. I finally worked up the courage to go in there this morning. The necklace was just sitting on her dresser with a few other things. Maybe I should’ve left it, but…it’s a turtle and it’s so pretty. I thought somebody should wear it rather than leaving it sealed up like a museum piece.”
“Good call, Dess. It’s stunning.” I reach out, gently fingering the necklace, smiling at the intricate detail etched in gold. “It feels like a nice way to remember Hawaii.”
To remember her, too, I think, but I feel too weird to say it.
When a man comes up behind us a second later, I jump.
“Too much caffeine? Don’t tell me—you have to taste everything personally before the big meeting, huh?” Troy Clement belts out a messy laugh and grins. “Way to go, Miss E-lectric. Your campfire coffee sealed the deal.”
It’s hard to smile back when I barely care.
Right now, I just want to get as far away from this place as possible.
“Um, yeah. Thank you.”
He’s one big walking smile—until his gaze falls on Destiny’s necklace. Not that he could miss the way it sparkles every time it catches the sun.
“Holy shi—is that—your mom’s old necklace?” For the faintest second, his eyes are massive and shining before he slips back into his usual smug, friendly look. “Wow. She loved that one, Dessy. It’s gold and handcrafted. Your old man bought it for her on their last trip here. I’m surprised she wasn’t wearing it when—well, say no more. My bad.”
He coughs awkwardly and turns.
That makes two of us. I’m reeling.
It was a gift from Cole?
Didn’t he say it was an arranged marriage of sorts? That he never cared that deeply about her?
But if he was still giving her gifts up until the end, he loved her.
The evidence of that love—however misguided or difficult or pointless—is hanging around Destiny’s neck, scattering the island sun.
Never mind the bigger pile of evidence I haven’t seen. The closed-off, secret memorial to a woman a sick part of me wants to barge into and explore.
I feel like this is Dakota’s territory. She’s a Poe, naturally at ease with whatever moody love and loss and angst is swirling around us.
Even my questions have questions.
What did she look like? Did she ever give them presents? Did she go to her grave with a piece of Cole’s heart?
I can’t be jealous.
God, no, there’s no reason.
He had a life before we met and it’s not my place to judge anything—much less get upset over a dead woman. I’m not even sure what I am to him alive.
Definitely not someone he loves. And why wouldn’t he have loved someone else before he knew me?
He has a freaking teenage daughter.
I’m little better than a one-night stand and his lab rat. We’re not together.
Not yet.
Not ever.
But Troy strikes me as a dumbass clod.
Here’s Destiny, already crying because she forced herself to confront a terrible loss by herself.
Does he really have to remind her what happened? Even if the embarrassed look on his face says he realizes his mistake…ouch.
At least I’m starting to understand why everything in this house is so hush-hush now.
“Me and my big mouth, huh?” Troy smacks himself lightly on the face when I look up again. “Let me make it up to you, Dessy. You want another boat ride before you head home? I’ve taken that sunset cruise three times this week. I’m practically drinking buddies with the captain. We can find your dolphins again. I’m sure your old man won’t mind.”
“T-thanks, Uncle Troy.” Destiny pulls herself together, putting on a brave face. “That sounds kinda nice. I would like to see them again before we leave.”
I’m not sure why I’m frowning.
“Destiny, are you sure your dad’s cool with a boat ride without him?” I ask.
She looks at me and nods.
“Please take your phone,” I say, trying not to sound like the concerned adult and probably failing. “Um, you know how he is. Your dad makes you show it every time you go off by yourself, so I feel like if you don’t take your phone—”
That wins me a laugh. “He won’t be mad at you, Eliza. He’ll just crucify me. Don’t worry. I’ll take it, plus we’ve got Uncle Troy’s. I’m gonna go get ready.” She wanders off.
“You did a hell of a fine job back there,” Troy says.
“Thank you.” I feel like this conversation is going around in circles and this bizarre man just won’t stop smiling.
Why is he still here?
He stuffs his hands in his pockets, pacing around the balcony like he’s working up to something. Then he looks at me, his eyes all heavy silver discs.
“Honestly, you’ve done a good job befriending Destiny, too. I’ve known her folks since before she was born. She doesn’t let many people in, but she trusts you. The girl could use a cool older lady in her life. You know, what with her mom being gone and Cole being Cole…”
Again, that raucous, almost inappropriate laugh bursts out of him.
Awkward.
I look at him, confused. Maybe he just doesn’t hang out with people much.
“I haven’t known her that long. I just work for her father.”
That permanent grin grows wider, stretching his almost leathery tanned face. “Don’t be modest around me, lady. You’re good fucking news for both of them. I haven’t seen Cole this happy since—well, hell, ever.”
My heart twists.
Does that mean I am a surrogate then?
The notion is so creepy, I don’t know what to do about it.
I feel lucky Cole moaned my name the last time he came, and not his dead wife’s.
But I have to try to play this off. Go on with my day. Think things over without a crying girl and this odd man circling me.
“Thanks…I think? I guess I don’t know what you mean,” I say, playing it cool.
He looks away, scratching his neck.
“Oh, shit. Right,” he mutters to himself, turning back to me. “I saw you hug Cole in the meeting, and you seemed so close to the kid, I just assumed…” He trails off. “Aw, never mind. That’s the way this crazy noggin gets sometimes, always reading too much into things.”
He winks at me.
“No worries. I was just overly excited my drinks were a hit. Before my job at Wired Cup, I never even imagined a research job. It’s been a good fit for me. I get to spend my days inventing awesome coffees. If I ever open my own shop, I’ll have tons of drinks ready to go.”
“Hell yeah!” There’s something boyish about his enthusiasm and too-wide smiles.
I’m trying to decide how I can step away gracefully when I hear footsteps. I turn right into a pair of sky-blue eyes gleaming with gratitude.
“Eliza, you were fucking dynamite.” Cole slips his hand through mine, twining our fingers together. I try to pull away at first, but one look at him and I’m powerless.
The poor man has lost so much.
And here I am, jumping to the worst conclusion after a few goofy-ass remarks from Troy and Destiny’s understandable emotional dump.
When I squeeze his hand, he grips mine tighter.
I think everything might be okay. I think he sees me when he looks down, and not some weird mirror image of his last heartbreak.
But even if it’s not that simple…so what?
Does it change how he makes me feel?
This is a place where fantasies are born, come alive, and frolic.
What happens in Hawaii stays in Hawaii.
I just wonder what’s going to happen next when we get back to Seattle. Because whatever’s coming will be a lot more truthful, raw, and lasting than everything that’s happened in this magical place.
Cole’s thumb caresses my fingers.
I stop overthinking when I catch Troy staring. There’s a different smile on his face now, warm and maybe a little sad?
“Well, I should go pack and catch up with the munchkin,” he says, walking over and slapping Cole on the back. “I told her I’d take her out to see the dolphins one more time. Hope you don’t mind?”
“That’s fine. Make sure she has her phone,” he says after some pause. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, bright and early tomorrow morning. Almost a red-eye. I’ll catch up with you guys in Seattle.”
“Seattle? I thought you were going back to Bali?” Cole asks, his face turned up with surprise.
Weird. He’s the CEO. If his sourcing chief has something to do at headquarters to help close a billion-dollar deal, wouldn’t he know about it?
“Don’t worry, boss. Fly decision. I thought I should take care of some loose ends in person since I’m already halfway across the Pacific—nothing to worry about with the new deal. It’ll probably be squared away by the time you’re home and we’ll shoot the shit at that little pub on Bainbridge. Fucking shit, the fish and chips there, man—” Troy throws his head back, making a pleasurable noise that’s so grossly inappropriate I almost laugh.
Cole’s face is tight and his forehead creases.
“Yeah, okay. It was good seeing you again, Troy. I’ll catch you in Seattle—and let me know ASAP if my dolphin-obsessed daughter is more than you can handle.”
“Will do.” Laughing, Troy nods and heads inside.
Finally.
He seems harmless enough, but the guy makes me cringe like nobody’s business.
“Where were we?” Cole asks, wrapping his arms around my waist before he kisses me deeply. “You were pure witchfire in there, sweetheart. Now it’s my turn.”
I smile, but stiffen.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I force a smile. “Just…aren’t you a little afraid someone will see us?”
He gives me an annoyed look and steps back slowly, putting ample space between us.
“Fair enough.” That hangdog look on his face makes me feel worse.
I’m so stupid. Why did I have to say anything?
I want him—I want to help him celebrate—but I want to make sure he really wants me.
Eliza.
Not some stand-in for a ghost.
“I’m sad that we’re leaving soon,” I whisper.
“Yeah. Paradise gets awfully addicting, but there’s no point in us lingering now that the deal is done. The whole crew wants to go home to their families.” He scans the balcony. “Did you see Destiny before she ran off with Troy?”
I smile. “Yep. She was pretty excited for the boat, but she promised to take her phone.”
My skin ices over despite the tropical heat.
I don’t say a word about Destiny crying. I can’t guess how he’d take it, even if part of me wants to find out.
“We’re alone then,” he says, raking me with a look that glows.
God.
I know I’ll regret this because it’s just getting harder to stay away from this man.
Heartbreak, here I come, but I might as well make the most of the time I have left, right? At least it can’t play out worse than Derek.
“Didn’t you say there’s a place on the farm only you know about?” I ask, remembering how he mentioned it the other night after we were spent and exhausted.
“There are a few places only I know,” he says cryptically.
“Show me one,” I whisper, grabbing his hand.
If I’m on a collision course, then I’ll spend what time I have left in heaven and deal with the fallout later.
The house is crawling with people as we head inside, so he keeps a safe space between us until we’re outside again.
His arm slides around my waist and he leads me to a small service area where the staff keep their golf carts. We climb inside the cozy little vehicle.
“Are we going to the cliffs?” I ask.
“Not today. You’ll see.” His sunlit smile melts me all over again.
He drives carefully down a narrow road through vibrant, low-hanging vines. When the house looks like something made for a doll in the distance, he parks next to some leafy brush and helps me out.
There’s a break in the overgrowth a little ways in. A hammock hangs between two tall coconut trees.
“Oh, wow. I never would’ve guessed that was here,” I say.
His eyes twinkle like blue sapphires. “That’s the point.”
He flops onto the hammock first, but keeps one foot firmly on the ground.
“Get your sweet ass over here,” he orders.
“What if I flip us over?” I say with a smile.
“You won’t. I’ll keep us steady, Eliza.”
Eliza. The way he says my name when he looks at me leaves no doubt that it’s me he’s seeing and devouring with that gaze.
He reaches out and I take his hand.
“Lay down slowly.” He gently pulls me closer.
Cautiously, I lift one leg on the very edge of the hammock and it gives.
“You’re sure this is big enough for two?”
“Positive. I’m not going to let you fall. Here, lean back.”
Slowly, I recline, but Cole’s big body takes up most of the hammock. The only way to lie back is to do it snugly against him.
He lets go of my hand, sliding his arm securely around me. “I’m going to raise my foot now. We’ll rock, but we won’t fall.”
We sway back and forth as he does exactly that.
Once I’m sure I’m not about to hit the ground butt first, there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.
We’re teleported into a warm, cozy dream.
My lips wander to his shoulder, wishing his silk button-down shirt wasn’t between us.
“The flight home is going to be hell,” he says, kissing my forehead and then my lips.
“Why?” I ask.
“I’ll be with you for six goddamned hours and won’t be able to do anything about it,” he growls.
“We’ll land eventually.” I almost hate that it’s true.
There I go, giving myself false hope.
There’s actually a disgusting chance we’ll only be working together as soon as we hit the tarmac, but I want to live this fantasy a little while longer.
“One more day before the flight,” he says, running his hand up my thigh. “I was just thinking we should spend it wisely. Have a lazy morning. No six a.m. Swift songs.”
I elbow him playfully. “What if I need to work?”
“You won’t even be asleep before six, woman,” he growls, his fingers pinching my thigh.
I grin. “What if I’m abstaining?”
“You’re not. I need to be in you as many times as I can,” he rumbles against my ear.
He’s too freaking good at this.
“Cole?” I whisper, feeling warm all over.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll always prefer your bed to work.”
He pulls me on top of him and cups my face. “You have no fucking clue how insane you make me. None.”
And I believe it a second later. He kisses me with so much lightning in his lips, I press my body into his, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
“Cole?” I whisper again, waiting for him to look at me. “Say my name. I just like to hear it.”
“Eliza,” he whispers, kissing my neck.
I shudder with delight.
I half expect his hands to roam and turn this into a heavy, soaked makeout session, but they don’t.
It’s even better.
He just locks his massive arms around my waist, holding me until I fall asleep.
The last thing I hear—almost as a prayer—is my name on his lips, over and over again.
