Hidden Gems by Carrie Alexander Page B

boyfriend?”
    “So you didn’t—” He exhaled. “About that. It’s not what you think.”
    “Was she good, the blonde?”
    “Marissa. Sweetheart. You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t cheat on you.”
    “Your hands were all over her. She stuck her tongue in your ear.”
    “You saw a lot. Did you see…”
    His Hugo Boss-tailored erection? Yes, indeed.
    “Did you see my client, too?”
    Marissa blinked. Paul was worried about the client instead of defending himself? He must be really guilty. Of something. “I had a glimpse.”
    “Listen, Marissa. This is important. I can’t get back to the city yet. I have more to accomplish here—”
    “I’m sure. Lots of island beach bunnies to catch.”
    Paul got all stuffy. “Regardless of what you think you saw, this is business. Company business. It would be beneficial to your career at Howard, Coffman if you set aside your pride and just kept your mouth shut.”
    Marissa was ready to feel insulted by his assumption that she would act like a wronged “wife” in the office, until she realized that this wasn’t about their relationship. Paul was trying to secure her silence. “What were you doing, holding a meeting in a parking lot?”
    “Nothing you need to be concerned with.”
    “But you are. Concerned.”
    “I’m concerned for how you’re feeling,” Paul said in his slippery way.
    “Uh-huh.” She pulled the phone away and rolled her eyes at it. “I’m really hanging up now. Rest assured, I have no intentions of telling tales at the office.”
    “You’re not due back yet. They don’t expect you until Monday.”
    “True.” Let him think she wasn’t going in. “If you’re finished with your top-secret meetings by then, you can be there in person to be sure I don’t besmirch your sterling reputation.”
    “You always were a smart cookie, Marissa.”
    Cookie? She didn’t crumble that easily.
    “Oh, absolutely.” She couldn’t resist making a dig so he’d have something to worry about. “I won’t even show around the photos of our—your—romantic rendezvous. Ta-ta!” Marissa laughed gaily and clicked off on Paul’s stuttering response.
    Shandi stood in the doorway with a pancake on a spatula. Her expression was almost apprehensive. “I made a turtle,” she said awkwardly, “and there’s burned sausage, too.” Behind her, the air near the ceiling was layered with smoke. “What did Paul want?”
    “I’m not quite sure.”
    “Sounded like he was trying to make up with you.”
    “No, actually, I wasn’t his top priority. At least not the me he sees outside of the office.” Marissa frowned, absorbed in replaying the conversation. Paul was worried about what she’d seen—and who she’d tell. He knew she had the ear of Thomas Howard, a senior partner. His blather about making up with her was just a smokescreen.
    “Do you want the turtle?” Shandi asked, lifting the pancake toward Marissa.
    “Thanks, but no. I ate breakfast with Jamie.”
    “You two…” Shandi put a finger on the pancake to hold it in place as she turned to go. “Three’s a crowd. I’ll pack up and be out of here as soon as I can.”
    “Take your time,” Marissa said. She was distracted, trying to remember where she’d dumped her luggage. In the closet? No, under the bed. She dove forward on her stomach and reached for the handle. The suitcase was caught on something and she yanked it free.
    The bag was upside down with the zipper half undone. Her stuff spilled from the gap. Damp swimsuits. Ew. At least she’d wrapped them in a towel.
    A hotel towel. Bad girl.
    She dropped the suits on the carpet and pawed through the other tumbled garments, setting aside two pairs of shoes before tipping over the suitcase to form a dirty laundry pile. After a cursory check of the outside pocket, the bag went back under the bed empty. What a crummy trip it had been. No souvenirs, not even a postcard.
    Shandi had returned to the doorway, licking syrup off a fork. “What