The Bad Boys of Summer (45 page)

As she looked around at the lush grounds, the tropical sunshine, and the eager faces of her beautiful and closest friends, she felt ashamed for all the time she had spent aching for a man who had treated her so badly. Right in front of her were four angels who had clearly worked very hard to make her happy and get her on a new and brighter path. They loved her, and she owed it to them to try, even if she was deeply afraid she was going to disappoint them and all their hard work.

Clarice smiled, but it was a tight and teary thing. Her emotions felt overworked and raw. “I will. I’m sorry, you guys. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. This place is a paradise, and you were all so sweet to kidnap me and hold me hostage here. I promise I’ll do my best to relax and have a good time.”

Sophie made a cooing sound and wrapped her in a tight hug. The ladies linked arms and followed the bellhops into the lobby to check in.

“
J
esus fucking Christ
,” said Harrison as he read the email. Whatever bits of his headache had disappeared were now charging back with full force, stabbing at his brain without mercy. In between it all was a burning feeling he was trying to ignore that was pointing out that he probably deserved this for being such a goddamn fuck-up.

What had he been thinking? He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to conjure up memories from the drunken haze of the night before, but they remained stuck like sticks in a dark bog. He hadn’t spoken to his father in months, and hadn’t seen him in years. Harrison ran the resort well enough that George Moore, the true emperor of this and all the Moore Resorts throughout the Pacific, didn’t need to attend to the place closely. Harrison liked — no,
needed
—his independence from the family. Especially his father. So he worked his ass off to ensure there would be little need for interference.

But apparently some little gremlin in his subconscious was not having that now. He would give half his fortune to remember what had stirred him up and inspired him to send that email last night. However, the only images he could clearly recall were of the fire of the evening’s luau, along with its accompanying colors and spicy smells, where he had been off-duty and enjoying himself.

Apparently, that was the last place he’d been sober last night. At least initially.

Perhaps that was where he had run into his lady friend, since the only clear memory after the luau was of waking up this morning, well-laid and hungover.

That he couldn’t even remember
why
he decided to try and wreck his whole life almost bothered him more than the act itself.

The lift
ping
ed gently as he arrived at the lobby floor, and Harrison walked with a determined stride through the hallways towards the front desk. The sea breeze was even stronger here in the spacious lobby, where the windows were only ever closed if the weather got too wet and windy. A few older guests milled around the diner; a small breakfast buffet was already open for the day, fresh food steaming from heated trays. Staff members, most looking brighter and less hungover than him, went about their early morning duties, and those that saw him gave him a smile or a greeting as he passed. Harrison tried to be polite and respond to them all, as being rude and the owner’s son simply would not do. With his head still rolling with pain and anger, it became difficult after the third or fourth attempt.

The sound of gathered voices got louder as Harrison approached the check-in desk. He knew his friend Bruce should be on duty, and there was no one else he could trust to help him with this complete catastrophe. The trick was going to be getting Bruce free from his duties, but he had certainly fried bigger fish than that.

As he approached the desk, he saw four stunning women gathered on the opposite side, speaking with Bruce as they proceeded through their check-in routine. Though their styles were all very different, it was clear they were professional, maybe even at the heads of their fields. At least judging by the expensiveness of their outfits, he recognized couture designers on at least two of them. The very thin one with the brunette bob was ten weeks ahead of her friends on the fashion front, and looked like she never left a salon.

But it wasn’t until he spotted the raven-haired, petite woman at the rear of the group, that Harrison froze in his tracks. Her arms were crossed anxiously as she looked around the lobby suspiciously, completely ignoring the front desk conversation. She had pale skin, like a marble statue, soft pursed lips that formed a perfect cupid’s bow, and big blue eyes framed by dark feathery lashes. She was absolutely breathtaking.

When her gaze swung around and met his for just a moment, he held it and smiled. The beauty hesitated for just a second, but then she smiled back, and he felt a spark of both arousal and connection between them.

“It looks like everything is in order, Miss Price!” Bruce was saying to the hard-looking brunette standing at the head of the group. “If you’ll give me just a few more seconds, I’ll get those room key cards popped out and ready for you ladies.”

As Harrison approached, the women all looked over to him, and their faces softened. Eyes lit up; pupils dilated; nostrils flared; and the faintest hint of flush crept up the delicate skin around the base of their necks. He had taught himself a long time ago how to recognize the telltale signs of physical arousal, and every single one of these ladies liked what they saw when they looked at him. His dick twitched in his shorts just a little at the idea of a new buffet of conquests, but he quickly clamped down on it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted now. Besides, this place never ran out of pussy, anyway.

“Good morning, excuse me ladies,” said Harrison, raising up a palm to greet them. He flashed his most charming smile, knowing that, coupled with his posh British accent, was enough to warm even the iciest of hearts. American women especially seemed to melt over it. “I need to borrow Bruce here for two quick seconds, if you don’t mind?”

Before Bruce could turn and acknowledge him — or argue, as Harrison knew he would immediately want to do, because God help him, the adorable surf rat took his job seriously —Harrison clapped a hand on his chest and gave him a little shake. Still smiling at the ladies, he bent down next to Bruce’s ear and whispered, “It’s a bit of an emergency, mate, give us a break.”

Bruce’s expression dropped and he nodded at his boss. Harrison wasn’t one to cry wolf on an emergency situation, especially not when it involved keeping customers waiting. He quickly finished the coding job he was in the middle of and turned to smile at the women. “This won’t take long, Miss Price.”

“By all means, take your time,” said Miss Price with a lazy, sexy smile. Her gaze ran up and down Bruce’s body without shame.

Harrison led Bruce away from the desk and spoke to him quietly. “Bruce, you have to help me, or I am royally fucked.”

Concern washed over Bruce’s face. The two of them had made fast friends when Bruce arrived six years ago on a backpacking trip across Southeast Asia. Like others before him, he found himself seduced by the paradise that was Bali. What was meant to be a short summer adventure after graduation in the States accidentally became a life of surfing, sun, and blunts on the beach, punctuated by his shifts at the resort, where his big heart and good nature made him the perfect introduction to the place. He made even the nervous visitors feel comfortable and welcome, like they belonged here. Bruce and Harrison were both masters at chasing tail, though their techniques and motivations were very different. But it helped cement the man as Harrison’s closest confidant on the whole island.

Bruce folded his tanned, toned arms across the white cotton button-up that was his resort uniform. “Oh man, what’s up?”

“Do you remember seeing me last night? After the luau?”

Bruce’s dark eyes darted about as he ran through his memories. He shook his head. “No man, I don’t. I remember you at the luau with that terrific babe, what was her name…. the supermodel?”

Harrison nodded. “Yeah, her, I figured that’s where I met her. I don’t remember her name either. I left with her, you remember that?”

Bruce let out a laugh, and gave him a sly eye. “Yeah, after she wouldn’t get off your lap during the dessert service. You crushed two pieces of chocolate cake together on the same plate and tried to carry both her and the plate out onto the beach. Did you make it, or did you just brush the sand off the cake before you ate it?”

The joke was lost on him. Shame pierced Harrison’s chest and he closed his eyes. He was a party boy, sure, but he typically did a far better job leaving his most embarrassing displays for private places, and not in front of his guests. “Bollocks, how many tables did I knock over? Did anyone complain?”

“None this time! Well, one tipped pretty hard, but Tan was standing close and saved it. The party was going pretty hard, I’m honestly not sure anyone noticed when it happened except me and maybe a couple other staff members. What do I keep telling you about the Sambuca, man? It’s not to be trifled with.”

“It is officially poison to me,” said Harrison, shoving his phone into Bruce’s face. “If I survive
this
poisoning, that is.”

Bruce took the phone from him with a frown and read the email he had pulled up. There was no dawning expression on his face. He shrugged. “Your pops is coming in? Is that bad?”

“He’s coming in because
he thinks I’m engaged
.”

Bruce’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh,
shit.
Who told him that?”

He frowned and pointed to the phone. “I did, didn’t you read the…” Harrison stopped himself, took a deep breath, and snatched the phone from Bruce’s hand. “Never mind, forget it. The point is, I am going to need your help to pull this off.”

“Pull what off?”

“Fooling my father into thinking I have a fiancée.”

Bruce sighed. “You’re going to make me lose this job, aren’t you, dude?”

“No, never,” said Harrison. “I promise, mate, this isn’t anything that’ll get you in hot water. That kettle only has my name on it. I’ll make sure of it. If I do get us fired, I promise to support you financially through best friend alimony of some kind since this is my fuck-up.”

“Why don’t you just tell him the truth?” said Bruce. “Who among us hasn’t sent the errant drunk text to an ex-lover or an estranged parent?” His deep, slow, Californian surfer-dude accent was like a disarming lubricant that made his philosophic thoughts hit harder. Coupled with Bruce’s literal surfer’s body, it was no wonder the ladies at the resort couldn’t get their skirts up fast enough for him.

“Tell him the truth?” said Harrison. He lifted his phone up to his ear and said in a mocking voice. “Oh, hello father! Yes, it’s me, your only son and heir. Listen, sorry about that email, I was thrashed and decided it would be prudent to try and trick you out of your empire. Yes, yes, I know, bloody embarrassing, isn’t it? Glad that’s settled, give mum my love, see you at Christmas!”

Bruce stood there and watched Harrison’s overdramatic display with folded arms and a sour expression. “You pantomime a lot when you’re nervous, have I ever told you that?”

“Fucking hell, Bruce, this is serious…”

The phone in Harrison’s hand lit up, loudly ringing next to his ear. Both he and Bruce jumped in surprise, and Harrison went pale when he saw it was his father calling.

“What do I do?”

Bruce threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “How the fuck should I know?! But don’t answer if you don’t have a plan…”

But Harrison had already panicked and slid his finger across the glass screen to accept the call. He cleared his throat and brought out his best professional voice—at least, the best he could muster through his hangover. “Yes, hello, this is Harrison Moore.”

“Harrison!” His father’s voice was surrounded by loud wind — no doubt the sound of the air at the top of his penthouse tower, while he waited for a helicopter lift to some other tower in London. “I’ve not received a response from you about the visit. Did you get my message?”

Harrison closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hello father. Yes, I got your message, I was actually just sorting out my reply to you when you rang.”

“Your mother has a charity event she must attend on Tuesday, but we will be departing directly afterward. It was the soonest we could make it out. Hopefully it’s not inconvenient for you.”

“No, not inconvenient at all,” said Harrison. He opened his eyes to see Bruce staring sternly at him, shaking his head. “Frankly, I’m surprised you were able to find time to make it out so quickly in the first place. It’s not really that necessary, you know. We could arrange a trip out to you come the holidays.” It was a long-shot, but he had to give it a try.

“Come now, this isn’t just some custodial visit, is it? I’m simply dying to meet my new daughter, Harrison, and discuss the future of our family. Besides, your mother wouldn’t stand for that,” said George, pushing his voice to be heard over the wind. “We’ll be heading for Bali the morning after the event. I have a few business appointments to attend to upon landing, and then we can dedicate the rest of the trip to visiting.”

Bruce was staring into Harrison’s face, imploring him, first silently and then through a delicate mouthed whisper. “Tell him!
Tell him the truth!”

Harrison swiped a hand twice at Bruce and moved his head away in case it was loud enough for his father to hear. “That sounds excellent, father. I’ll make sure everything is arranged in the presidential suite for you.”

“Don’t bother, I’ll call and have Jones take care of it. This is a holiday, for you as well as for us. I’ll let him know to get your responsibilities covered until our trip is done.”

Harrison felt a rush of panic. The more people who knew about the reason for his father’s visit, the harder it would be to keep the ruse up. The staff mostly respected Harrison, but to pretend there weren’t those among them who would relish the chance to put the rich owner’s son in his place would be naïve — and Harrison’s apple hadn’t fallen
that
far from the tree. He was not about to put his faith in those odds. “That’s really not necessary, father…”

“Come now,” said his father.

“No, father, now you aren’t here for the day to day operations, are you? How would it look to my staff to have my father swoop in and relieve me of duty so we can gallivant off on a surprise holiday together? It’s important I maintain good standing around here. These people have access to my food, remember.”

His father didn’t laugh, but that was nothing new. The elder Moore never had much enjoyed anything humorous. “I suppose that’s a fair point, son. You know your people and your resort.”

“I do. Please trust me on this.”

“But I still don’t want you working while we’re visiting. Your mum is insistent. You know she isn’t a fan of the tropics and she will be an absolute nightmare if you’re running about putting out fires during her rare visit out of Europe. Make sure you delegate to someone responsible, someone you won’t need to check in on every hour.”