Take This Man by Kelli Maine

gets really interesting.”
    “It gets
even better
?” My grin is reflected back on a pair of delicious-looking lips framed by deep dimples on both sides. The image pixelates and freezes.
    “Much.” I fiddle with my webcam cord, trying in vain to get a better connection. “Archibald and Ingrid were the Romeo and Juliet of the Civil War. His family supplied sugarcane from their plantation to the Confederate troops. Ingrid’s family housed Confederate deserters. Even though it was August 1865 and the war had ended, there was no way Ingrid’s parents were going to give Archibald their blessing to marry their daughter and take her away.”
    “What did he do?”
    Damn. I wish I could see the expression that accompanies the urgency conveyed in the tone of the question, but my screen is still frozen on that set of white teeth and pair of dimples. Not that I mind. I’m considering making it my new screensaver.
    “He tried his best for months to convince her parents he was worthy of Ingrid, even offering to let them live at the hotel, too, but they wouldn’t budge. Finally, heartbroken with nothing left to lose, he climbed a ladder up to her window one night, broke in, and whisked her away.
    “Ingrid was furious at first, but when she got to Turtle Tear, it was love at first sight and she refused to ever leave the island again. It’s said that she’s buried there, but no grave marker has ever been found to confirm that fact.”
    I sit back in my chair—mirroring your interviewer was a tip I acquired in an interview workshop—and wait for a response.
    “That’s quite a big risk for the love of a woman. I suppose it paid off for him in the end. Would you agree, Ms. DeSalvo?”
    “Yes. The lengths he went to just to win her over… I’m sorry. Ingrid and Archibald’s story always overwhelms me.” I put a hand to my chest and inhale deeply to catch my breath. “His grand, romantic gesture won him his wife and the home where he lived the rest of his life. I hope to work with your company to restore the property and hotel to its original style and design, to make it a place nobody would ever want to leave.”
    “Something Archibald and Ingrid would be proud of?”
    My chest fills with emotion that can’t be repressed. An enormous smile threatens to split my face in half. “I’d love nothing more, Mr. Rocha. Given the opportunity—”
    “The opportunity is yours. I’ve never seen someone so passionate and knowledgeable about a run-down hotel on swampland in the Everglades. I’d be a fool to entrust anyone less enthusiastic with this project. In fact, you’re the only one I’d trust it to. Nobody has proven themselves more deserving.”
    The rest of the interview becomes a blur. A haze of details and names of HR personnel who will be in touch to discuss salary and relocation. My head is in the clouds. My dream realized.
    I’m the newest project manager at Rocha Enterprises. The Turtle Tear renovation is mine!

One
    Three months later…
    The club is packed. Bodies grind together on the dance floor. There’s barely room to move. You catch my eye.
    You’re alone.
    Bass pounds through my body, rushes from my head to my toes, takes the same path your eyes follow. Your dark-eyed stare is flutter-soft on my skin. It raises goose bumps. Makes me flush. My vodka-and-cranberry-soaked blood runs hot with need.
    You smile. Dimples pierce your cheeks. Your eyes flash. I can’t resist.
    “Rach!” Shannon grabs my arm. She’s sweaty from dancing and pulls her blond hair up off her shoulders. “I’m going.” She tilts her head toward Shawn or Shane or Seth—I’m not sure—the guy she met two hours ago.
    “How am I supposed to get home?” She drove.
    Shannon shoves her car keys in my hand. “See you in the morning.” She winks and pushes back through the crowd toward the guy whose name starts with an S.
    When I turn from watching Shannon go, you’re standing right in front of me. “Hi,” you say.