He hears me coming and looks up. “Wow, you look great.”
“Thanks.”
“You ready?” he asks.
“Let’s do this.” I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be. He grins and hands me a very large, over the top sun hat. The flowers on the hat clash with my dress.
I accept, it but then hold it in my hands away from my body like it’s a dead rat that I intend to go drown in the sink. I raise an eyebrow at him. “What’s this?”
“It’s a hat,” he deadpans. “You don’t like it? It’s an Eric Javits.”
“It’s a little much.”
“The shopper assisting me assured me that it’s all the rage. You’re going to have to wear it a little bit. Unless you want the paparazzi to get a close up, high definition picture of your face. We want them to try to take our picture, but we can’t make it easy on them. They’d figure that shit out in sixty seconds or less, then they’d hit the road. And not follow us.”
“Yeah, I got it,” I say. “We’re going with the please look at me, don’t look at me strategy. Very passive aggressive.”
He nods. “Exactly.”
I put on the hat and grin up at him. “Alright, then. Let’s do this.”
“Okay,” he says, standing up. He extends his arm to me. “Let’s go. Security will hold them off until we actually get outside. But then it’ll be a free for all.”
“Sounds fun,” I say ironically. There’s another knock on the door, but this time it’s just security. Chase opens it and then there’s a brisk walk to the elevator followed by a faster walk through the lobby.
Once I get a look out the lobby windows I freeze. “Holy shit. There are so many of them.” I can see them all gathered, multiple cameras at the ready, chomping at the bit and pushing and shoving each other for a better view.
Chase moves between me and the window, blocking their view. “Okay, hat over your face.” He smirks down at me and the dimple is back. “Now, hold my hand. In a minute, we’ll be in the car, okay?”
I nod. Here goes nothing. The walk to the door is eerily quiet. The moment Chase opens it, though, there’s pushing and shouting. I hear the snapping of cameras. It’s just like in the movies.
Except that right now it’s happening to me, and it feels overwhelming. Chase shouts something at me, but I can’t hear him over the yelling. A hand reaches out from somewhere nearby and brushes against my shirt. I yelp in surprise. My pulse races as I dart toward Chase’s car.
It’s kind of like the feeling of getting hit with a stray wave that knocks you over for a few seconds before your feet find solid ground again. It’s all a rush of confusion and pandemonium.
And then, just as Chase said would happen, we find ourselves safely inside the limo and pulling out into traffic. Everything is quiet again.
I put down my hat and stare at him.
“What? Your first paparazzi run?” he teases.
“Yes. Obviously. You were cool as a cucumber out there, Chase.”
He turns to stare out the window at the vanishing horde of photographers. “You get used to it. That’s why I wasn’t sure going out on the beach the other night just the two of us was a good idea, but it worked out.”
“Well, hey, being ordinary is what I’m good at.”
“There’s nothing ordinary about you,” he says quickly as he turns back to face me. His expression is intense, and I wonder where all this is coming from.
“Sorry,” he says, visibly relaxing now that we’re clear of the resort. “It’s just that sometimes I feel like you sell yourself short.” He hands me a folder with a stack of pictures in it. “What about now? Would you like to look over the morning itinerary?”
I accept the folder and scoot closer to him. I flip through the posh beach front real estate. “Wow, Chase. It all looks amazing.” I check to make sure my phone is fully charged so that I’m ready to take a bunch of pics for Fi and Angie.
I pause my inspection of the pics so I can casually glance down at the price list that Chase is holding. Out of curiosity.
Holy shit. I know he’s a billionaire and all, but the properties we are looking at today cost tens of millions of dollars. Pinkies up, Kaylee, it’s going to be a hell of a ride.
Then there is another voice in my head telling me I have to resist. Have fun, yes. Enjoy the hell out of it, but do not get sucked into his world or the eyes of the gorgeous guy next to you.
The limo slows down at the entrance to a gated community. The driver must have the code because a moment later we’re skimming past the ocean front estates of Villa Boca Tropic at a whopping fifteen miles per hour.
The limo comes to a stop in front of a beautifully manicured lawn in front of a happy yellow mansion. The front yard is dotted with tall palm trees and a waterfall falling into a formation of rocks.
Chase and I get out of the limo and make our way to the front door where a man stands and waits. He looks attentive and expectant. The man is dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with a collar. Judging by the overly excited look on his face, I’m guessing that’s Chase’s real estate agent.
As Chase and I make our way to the front door, I can see that the waterfall gushes into a pool with Koi in it. Neat. We enter the house and suddenly we’re in a vaulted ceiling palace of marble with a spiral staircase, colorful artwork, and
