Focus on the plan, Chase. “That’s true. You’re right, neither my family nor the paparazzi will give us a first or second glance. But if the plan is for nobody to notice us, then why in the hell are you in that bathing suit?”
“I’m not the least bit worried about anybody recognizing me in this bathing suit. You actually do know me, and you haven’t once looked up at my face,” she says, tongue firmly in cheek.
Damn, she’s got me there. I have to hand it to her. I’m fake engaged to a mastermind. And she caught me. “You’re right. Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. In truth, I’m trying to shake out all the mental cobwebs of the last few minutes.
“All good,” she says with a little bow that shows off even more cleavage and threatens to make me even harder than I already am. At this point, I’ll have to do some meditation before I head out to the beach in order not to have a visible tent in my swimming trunks.
“Trust me, it’s all part of my plan. Which is going to work to perfection, by the way. You need to know exactly what the board is up to and this will get you close without being discovered.”
“I like it. Let’s go,” I look around at all the beach stuff we’re going to have to carry. “What are we going to put in the cooler?”
“Nothing, but it doesn’t matter what’s in it. Just the presence of the cooler says we’re either super cheap, super broke, or super local. It’s the crown piece of the plan. Carrying that thing, nobody will bother you. Ready?”
I nod, take a few quick, deep, relaxing breaths, and throw a couple of towels over my shoulder. Then, with a shrug, I pick up the boogie board, the cooler, and a lounge chair. I balance it all precariously. “You’ll have to grab the beach ball,” I say.
She bends over in front of me to get the beach ball. I can only shake my head. “You know you’re killing me, right?”
“Hey,” she says, “if it works on you, it should work on everybody else too.” She grabs an even tackier sun hat than the one I gave her this morning.
Then she steps in front of me and lifts her head to look me in the eyes. Her soft brown eyes are an adorable combination of excited and empathetic. She’s reassuring me, but it’s not necessary. So far, what I’ve heard of the plan is great. I’m in.
Her lips curl up into a gentle smile. “Now, listen. You can relax. I promise, this is going to work. You have to trust me, though. Do you?”
I stare at her. She knows how much I have riding on this. How much I have emotionally invested in running this company. My whole life has led up to this and it is this close to getting ripped away from me.
When I stare into her eyes, though, I know that she has my back. I don’t know exactly how or why, I just know. Trusting people is not my forte, but that’s my problem, not hers. “Okay, I trust you.”
She nods and smiles.
I stand there realizing I have finally met my match. She is worth every penny I’m paying her to play the part of my fake fiancé and then some.
She’s so much more than just that. She’s a partner in crime. My only issue now is how I’m going to be able to focus. I hold out a hand for her. “You first.”
“You just want to watch me walk away,” she says with a smirk, heading to the door.
You’re damn right. I think it, but I don’t say it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kaylee
We get some strange side eye glances from the elevator guards on our way down while carrying all the tacky beach stuff. But to their credit, they never say anything. The best part is, I know that it is annoying Chase and that brings me no small amount of satisfaction. As far as I’m concerned, everything’s going perfectly.
By the time Chase and I hit the sand we are huffing and puffing from the effort of carrying it all. Well, mostly him. I have to admit that part of me did it just for the mental image of Chase Covington, billionaire, carrying a bunch of drug store shit and an igloo cooler down to the beach. It makes me smile.
As I suspect, once we get down there, beachgoers give us dirty looks since this is a swanky resort and not an ordinary city park beach. And also, as expected, the other tourists part like the red sea in every direction as we approach.
I glance over and see Chase’s brother and sister huddling off to the right of where we are. I get close but not too close, and then put down the stuff I’m carrying.
“You sure we’re not too close?” he whispers as we set up the lounge chairs and plop the cooler down in between them. I throw the towels onto the chairs.
“Nope, we’re exactly where we need to be. Your family never notices people like us.”
It certainly isn’t the concierge-lounge-chair-for-two from yesterday. I will miss the snacks and the cold drinks in the little cooler. There will be none of that today.
Chase stands and looks around, directly at his family, who make a specific point to not make eye contact with him. “Guess you’re right. It’s like camouflage or something.”
“Welcome to the middle class. Now lie down.”
“What? How can the plan seriously involve sunning ourselves?”
I notice that the worry lines on his forehead are back, making him less attractive. But the effect is cancelled out by the wind messing up his hair, which makes him sexier.
“Pipe down,” I say. Okay, so I’m enjoying this a little too much. “It’s a good plan. If you’ll just
