2. Valerie

2

VALERIE

The moon hangs high in the evening sky, and the lack of city lights and clouds makes it easy to see the stars glowing brightly. A violinist plays soft music in the corner of the restaurant sitting at the end of the wide pier, adding to the romantic ambiance surrounding me where I sit at a table covered with white linen, staring at a guy who is, arguably, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.

And the worst part?

He doesn’t seem to realize it.

I mean, CJ obviously knows he’s attractive. His confidence when asking me out confirmed as much.

But while we enjoy our delicious meal, I don’t witness a single example of arrogance or conceit. CJ asks me questions about myself, each one more thoughtful than the last, and he genuinely seems to care about my answers.

Against my better judgment, I’m enjoying myself. That is until he asks me what I do for a living.

Just like that, underlying stress and anxiety try to rear their ugly heads and ruin what is supposed to be a carefree vacation with my best friend. I hadn’t wanted to ditch Megan for dinner tonight, but she told me she and Dane made plans to grab drinks together. Knowing she wouldn’t be spending the evening alone, I felt better about following through on my promise to meet CJ for dinner. Now, though, I’m questioning if this is a good idea. I’m not great on dates on my best days, much less when I’m struggling to deal with feeling like a complete failure at my job.

“So?” CJ’s voice draws my attention back to him. Over his shoulder, I see the blushing waitress scurrying away, shooting one last admiring glance at my date as she does.

Can I even call him a date?

“So?” I repeat back to him. “Which dessert did you pick?” He’d been going over the dessert menu with our waitress for a couple of minutes before I tuned him out after ordering a scoop of lemon gelato for myself.

“The chocolate raspberry cake, of course.” His lips twitch. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. You still haven’t told me what you do for a living.”

Oh.

I take a sip of white wine to give myself time to make sure my voice is even. “I’m an accountant.”

“Impressive. Where do you work?”

“Houston.”

“I meant, what company?”

I shake my head. “No. No way.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

“I’m not giving you that information. I don’t need you trying to find me after we leave the resort?” Immediately, I cringe at how rude that sounded. I’m not trying to offend CJ, but I’m not an idiot. I know better than to give personal information out to a total stranger. For all I know, he could be a creep who stalks women. However, I doubt it. Someone as hot as CJ wouldn’t need to resort to stalking anyone.

Ted Bundy was attractive too, Valerie…

Fair point, I tell myself. Then focus back on the stunning man across from me. I worry I offended him with my response, but CJ takes me by surprise when he laughs.

“Wow. Okay.” He smiles, amused. “My charm isn’t working, is it?”

“It’s not that.” I feel compelled to explain myself. Which is unusual. I’m not usually someone who explains herself, courtesy of my mother’s influence. “I’ve just watched one too many true crime shows to be comfortable sharing that information with a stranger.”

He sits back in his chair and nods thoughtfully. “I get it. I have a sister. I hope she’s as cautious as you when it comes to men.”

I leap onto the change in topic. “Is your sister younger than you?”

“Yes, but by barely more than a year. We’re almost Irish twins.”

“But you’re still protective of her?” I take another sip of wine.

“Very.” He chuckles to himself. “A little too much if I’m being honest. And I just found out she’s dating my best friend. I’m trying to take a step back so I don’t do anything to fuck up either of those relationships.”

“Your best friend?” My eyes widen. “Wow. I thought that sort of thing was off-limits for guys.”

He shrugs. “Carlee and Corey have had a thing for each other since we were kids. They think I didn’t know, but they were so obvious I’d have to be a moron not to notice.”

The waitress approaches and delivers our desserts. She smiles kindly when she places my gelato in front of me, but her smile is far more inviting when it lands on CJ. To his credit, he doesn’t seem to notice. He thanks her for the cake, and then his attention returns to me. He doesn’t see the woman’s disappointed frown.

Was she hoping he would openly flirt with her with me sitting right here?

CJ picks up his fork and digs into his cake without a care in the world.

Men…

I shake my head and pick up my spoon. I take a bite and a delicious tangy lemon flavor floods my tastebuds.

“Mmm.” I scoop up another spoonful and put it in my mouth, loving the sweet but sour taste of the refreshing dessert.

“Is it good?”

I look up as I’m licking the corner of my lip. CJ’s eyes zero in on the movement, and I’m embarrassed yet intrigued by the hint of heat I see flicker in his gaze. It’s the first sign of attraction he’s given me all evening aside from telling me I looked nice when we met outside the cabana.

The look makes my stomach flutter.

I swallow the gelato and nod, delicately dabbing the corner of my mouth. “It’s really good. How’s yours?”

“Delicious.” His eyes flash. I’m not certain he’s talking about the dessert…

“Good.” I look down to hide my flushed cheeks.

Silence settles as we enjoy our desserts.

A minute or so later, CJ asks, “So, I know you’re not married, but is there someone waiting for you back in Houston?”

I scoff. “No.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

I lift my gaze and meet CJ’s genuinely curious stare.

I press my lips together and debate how honest I should be.

Considering CJ is a stranger and I won’t see him after leaving this resort, I say, “The thought that I’d have enough time to do something as normal as date is laughable.” I intend the words to sound amusing, but they come out a little pathetic.

And based on the pitying look CJ levels on me, he notices. “Why do you say that?”

I sigh. “Let’s just say I don’t have a good work-life balance.”

“Why not?”

That’s the million-dollar question… and one I’ve avoided answering for almost a year.

I should just change the subject. I don’t need to unload my troubles on a stranger, especially not one who, if I play my cards right, I might invite back to my room for the night. I’m not usually one for one-night stands, mostly because I don’t have the time or energy to meet someone, but CJ is temptation come to life. Especially when he looks at me like he honestly cares what I’m about to say.

I take a deep breath and search for the words that will make me sound the least pathetic. “Entry-level accounting jobs aren’t always intense, but when you work at one of the Big Four, you bust your ass in the early years to prove yourself and try to move up the corporate ladder. Which wouldn’t be a problem if I actually wanted to be an accountant…” The last sentence spills from my lips unintentionally.

My eyes widen in surprise.

That’s the first time I’ve admitted my dislike for my job out loud. Not even Megan, who is my best friend in the entire world, knows how much I despise my job.

CJ tilts his head. “You don’t want to be an accountant?”

“No, I don’t.”

God, that feels great to say…

“I don’t get it.” He frowns. “Then why are you an accountant?”

Why indeed…

“It’s a long story,” I sigh. “But the gist of it is, accounting was the only major my mom approved of when I was applying for colleges.”

Our delicious desserts are momentarily forgotten.

CJ crosses his arms and observes me with a deepening frown as he tries to understand the snippets I’ve given him about my complicated background. “So you majored in something you didn’t want to because your mom said so?”

“Yup.”

“To earn your mom’s approval?”

Who needs therapy when you can just pour your heart out to a hot guy while on vacation? Paying to stay at an all-inclusive resort might actually be cheaper than years of counseling.

“Basically,” I admit with a tiny shrug

“Wow.” CJ leans back in his chair, looking at me with compassion, but thankfully no pity. “That’s intense.”

“I know.”

“What about your dad? I mean…” He hesitates, looking alarmed. “If he’s involved in your life… shit. Never mind. Forget I brought it up.”

“No, don’t worry.” I smile reassuringly. “My dad is involved in my life. He’s the one who raised me after my parents got divorced.”

“Oh.” His brows lift in surprise. That’s how most people react when they hear about my upbringing. It’s not the norm for a dad to step up and become the custodial parent after a divorce. Most moms want to be the primary caregiver in their child’s life. But my mom wasn’t built that way. “I’m… sorry?”

“Don’t be,” I reply. “Dad was great. He is great. I’m glad he raised me.” If he didn’t, there’s no telling what other screwed-up thoughts and choices I would’ve made to please my mom.

“I’m glad to hear it,” CJ says sincerely.

I offer a weak smile and attempt to drop the subject by returning my attention to my melting gelato. The flavor is less enjoyable now that I feel like I’ve ruined the lighthearted evening with my baggage.

CJ finishes his cake in an impressive five bites. Then, he sits back and sips his red wine. I look up when I sense him watching me over the rim of his glass.

I tilt my head to the side. “What?”

“Can I offer unsolicited advice that’s likely inappropriate given how little I know about you?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” I smirk. “Go for it.”

“I think you should quit your job.”

I almost choke on gelato. I cover my mouth with the linen napkin from my lap and cough to clear my throat. When I’m confident I won’t spit gelato over the table, I ask in a raspy voice, “Excuse me?”

CJ doesn’t miss a beat. “If your job makes you unhappy—if it keeps you from having the life you want—you should quit.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to say anything else.

He doesn’t.

I can’t explain why, but I realize I care about what this relative stranger is saying.

Maybe it’s because CJ’s opinion is objective. He doesn’t know me or any details about my career. Nothing about my life or upbringing is clouding his judgment.

“Why would you say that?” I ask. “People work in jobs they hate all the time.” It’s tragic, but it’s the truth. People do what they have to do to survive. The ones who actually enjoy what they do for a living are the lucky ones… people like my dad.

But when I think about what that love for his job cost my dad, I acknowledge that he might not be considered a lucky one after all.

“Yes, but you’re young,” CJ says. “You’re too young to have responsibilities that tie you down to a career you hate.” He presses his lips together and gives me a contemplative look. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Well, that’s a rude question to ask a lady.”

“Is it? Forget I asked.”

I chuckle at his horrified expression. “I’m just joking. I’m twenty-three.”

“See?” He waves a hand in my direction. “You have plenty of time to change your career and do something you love. Life is too short to spend any moment of it miserable.” He speaks with such conviction that I wonder what he’s experienced to give him this outlook on life. He doesn’t seem that much older than me, but I’ve never been great at guessing someone’s age.

“Do you do something you love?” I ask then take another sip of wine.

“I do.”

I lower my glass and tilt my head to the side, assessing him. “And you’re happy with your life?”

“For the most part, yes. But just like everyone else, I have my problems.” He shrugs. “I can’t control everything, but what I can control, like my work, I try to.”

“Spoken like someone who has some privilege,” I point out. Only someone with financial security would be willing and able to quit a job and pursue a dream.

“Maybe,” he allows. “But that doesn’t make my statement any less true. In an ideal world, no one should have to work a job they hate.”

Maybe not, but reality isn’t ideal…

I sound like Mom.

Bile crawls up my throat at the thought.

I ignore the rest of my wine and pick up my water instead, taking a large gulp to wash down the burning sensation and the words that explain the complicated relationship I have with the woman who gave me life. That’s too much information to share on a first date.

So have we decided this is a date yet??

Ugh. I don’t know.

But I do know that I’m far more interested in the man sitting across from me than I have been in a long, long time.

And I don’t need my messy life to ruin this evening for me.

It’s ruined enough already.

CJ waits to speak until I put the glass back on the table. “The last thing I’ll say about this is that the woman I played volleyball with was funny and witty, and the woman I’ve been speaking with all evening has been lighthearted and upbeat. But that changed the minute you started talking about your job.” His warm eyes are serious. Flickers of concern flash in their brown depths. “It’s like a light turned off and your true personality shut off. Anything that dims your shine like that shouldn’t be something you keep in your life. Not unless you don’t have a choice.”

I blink once.

His words elicit several thoughts and feelings within me, but the strongest one is shock. Not shock at how bold he is to speak to me like this—we are, after all, strangers—but shocked by how accurate his statements are.

It’s a struggle to feel like I belong in the corporate accounting world, and I hide most parts of my personality to fit in. What is it about CJ that allows him to read me so easily when I know I’m far from being an open book?

I stare at the handsome man in front of me and respond to his apt description of me and my plight with what I intend to be a joke, but comes out sounding a little defensive, “I didn’t know a guy as good-looking as you could be so poetic?”

He shoots me a grin. “I’m sorry… I’m overstepping.”

“A little bit,” I allow. “But… thanks. I can tell you mean well.” And as odd as it may seem, I’m flattered by the fact he cares enough about a stranger’s happiness to risk offending me by offering his opinion.

Honestly, I could use more of that kind of tough love in my life.

My mom doesn’t shy away from criticizing me, but that’s different. Her input is always motivated by a desire to make herself look good through me and my accomplishments. And while Dad loves me more than anything, he’s too much of a gentle soul to criticize his only child.

Sigh.

I have one parent who doesn’t shy away from hurting my feelings and another who couldn’t even stomach telling me if I had a bad hair day. And my friends… well… let’s just say that I don’t let any of them know the depths of my inner turmoil. Not even Megan knows how much I hate my job and how I feel like it’s ruining my life.

And yet, CJ picked up on it after knowing me for not even half a day.

“Of course.” He clears his throat and looks at my bowl of melted gelato. “Do you want to order anything else?”

“No, thank you. I’m all set.”

With a reluctant nod, he looks around and signals to our waitress that we’re ready for the check. The meals are all-inclusive here, but our non-house wine incurred an extra charge.

The waitress delivers the check with a fresh wave of eye flutters in CJ’s direction. Once again, her effort to catch my date’s eye—yes, I’m officially calling this a date—falls flat.

CJ signs for the bill to be charged to his room after refusing my offer to pay for the white wine. The tall man unfolds himself from the red velvet chair and walks to my side to pull back my chair.

I look up at his impressive height, touched by his gentlemanly act. “Thank you.”

His smile is kind though a little distracted. “You’re welcome.”

I weave through the sea of linen-covered tables with candles as centerpieces until we reach the entrance, pulling back until CJ reaches my side.

Without a word, we walk down the pier, away from the restaurant and towards the beach. Waves crash against the pier’s pillars below before rolling onto shore, drowning out the sound of our footsteps.

I sneak a peek at CJ. His hands are tucked into his pockets, and I’m a little disappointed that he doesn’t try to hold my hand.

You mean after you told him how work turns you into a Debbie downer and he lectured you about not letting life slip you by?

I blow out a breath.

I don’t want the evening to end on this note. Hell, I don’t want the evening to end, period.

Strange as it may seem given our less-than-flirty conversation a few minutes ago, I’m enjoying CJ’s company, and I want to keep enjoying it.

I just don’t know how to make that happen.

You’d think that at the age of twenty-three, I’d be better at this whole talking to men and dating thing.

It’s not like I’m falsely modest. I know I’m attractive, and I have a well-paying job that lets me live on my own. On paper, I have everything going for me. I should be more confident in asking for what I want. But the insecurity engrained in me from years of listening to my mother’s digs about wardrobe choices, hairstyles, and more has made me a little … shy. And hesitant about actually going for what I want.

By the time we reach the end of the pier, I still haven’t found the words to tell CJ I want to continue our date. The sidewalk ahead veers in three different directions. Straight ahead is the poolside bar that’s still open. To the left is a walkway that takes you along the beach, and the walkway to the right leads to the casitas where resort guests stay.

I chew my bottom lip and look at each path, anxiously trying to figure out how to get over my damn insecurities and ask for what I want!

“Thank you for joining me for dinner,” CJ’s deep voice penetrates my whirling mind.

I turn my neck and tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze. The wind whips my sundress around my legs as I take in the shadows on his handsome face, cast by the soft glow of the lights alongside the pier.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had a nice time.”

His lips tilt up into a sheepish grin. “Even though I told you to quit your job?”

He’s smiling! That’s a good sign.

“Yes,” I tell him, returning his grin. “I enjoyed talking to you.”

“Good.” His smile widens. “I enjoyed talking to you, too.”

My stomach flutters. How can someone so good-looking be so nice at the same time?

At least, he seems nice.

I remind myself I don’t know CJ. We’ve talked all night, but he’s still a stranger.

A stranger you wouldn’t mind getting into bed…

A couple approaches the pier from the walkway to our right. The older man walks with his arm wrapped around his partner’s shoulder, and one of the white-haired woman’s hands rests on his chest where she’s burrowed into his side.

CJ gently takes my elbow and guides me towards the wood railing to allow them to pass. I smile politely as they walk by, admiring their easy affection as they walk to the restaurant at the end of the pier. I have no idea if the couple has been together for decades, years, months, or weeks, but I’d like to think they’re here celebrating a milestone anniversary.

It’s nice to see evidence that marriage and love can last—that my parents’ story isn’t the only example I can look to when imagining what my own future may one day hold.

“Can I be honest for a second?” CJ asks, drawing my attention away from the retreating couple.

I meet his stare and note his uncertain expression. “Of course.”

“I like you.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. I pinch my lips together to try and contain my excitement. “I like you, too.”

“And I don’t want this evening to end just yet,” he adds in a rush, running a hand through his wavy brown hair.

My smile breaks free. “I feel the same.”

Relief floods his features, followed by a smile that looks extra bright despite being half-shadowed. “Great. How about we grab a drink at the poolside bar and have some fun? Just for one night.”

There are so many reasons I should say no.

CJ is a stranger. I’ve already told him more about myself than I ever intended. And he’s so freaking hot that I fear one night with him will be enough to ruin all other men for me for the rest of my life.

But when he looks at me with that all-American boy smile and the sheepish hope in his chocolate brown eyes, I throw all caution to the wind.

“Sure,” I shoot him a flirty wink. “I could use some fun.”