Page 23 of Clock Strikes Paradise (Island Escapes #4)

Chapter Eighteen

Clay

I leaned back against the couch, a contented sigh escaping my lips.

Elise sat beside me, her presence a warmth that lingered even though her fingers had stopped their soothing massage.

But her warm side touching mine was a vivid reminder of the kiss we had just shared.

The frustration of dealing with Laurent had faded, replaced by a sense of relaxed contentment I hadn’t anticipated.

My gaze drifted toward the turquoise ocean shimmering in the distance beyond my pool.

The late afternoon sun turned the water into a canvas of shimmering gold and aqua, a breathtaking contrast to the sleek steel and glass of my normal Manhattan world.

A warm, inviting world I wanted to immerse myself in.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked, the words escaping before I could stop them.

I wasn’t one for casual strolls, especially not when a crucial business deal hung in the balance.

But the idea of spending time with Elise, away from the confines of work and negotiations, was unexpectedly appealing.

Elise’s smile widened. “I’d love to,” she replied, her voice light and happy.

We stepped out of the cottage and onto the beach, the air soft and fragrant with the scent of salt and seagrass. I slipped off my loafers, feeling the fine, white sand between my toes, a novel sensation for a man accustomed to Italian leather and polished marble floors.

“You mentioned wanting to explore new opportunities within the company,” I said, my gaze on the endless stretch of turquoise water before us. “What type of position are you interested in?”

Elise was quiet for a moment, her dark blue eyes thoughtful. “To be honest, I’m intrigued by GreenDrive. The electric vehicle industry is fascinating, and I’d love to be involved somehow.”

“It’s definitely a game-changer,” I agreed, my mind already racing with the possibilities my new venture might bring. “We’re still in the early stages of the buyout, so there’s plenty of time to explore different options.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want to rush into anything.” She laughed and the sound was like honey dripping from a spoon, sweet and rich. “Besides, I’ve got a feeling you’re not exactly eager to find a new assistant.”

“You’re damn right about that. You’re too good at what you do. No one’s ever lasted this long.”

“That’s because you terrorized all the others into quitting,” she teased, her smile lighting up her face.

I stopped walking and turned to face her, taking her hand in mine. “No,” I said, my voice softening as our fingers intertwined. “That’s because you have steel inside you, Elise. You’ve done excellent work the past three years and I’m sorry I haven’t told you that more often.”

“It’s all right,” she said as we began strolling again, heading toward the waterline. “It’s not your nature. You expressed your appreciation in more… subtle ways.”

I was pretty sure she just called me an asshole in very polite language, but I let the subject drop. Her hand was soft and warm within mine, and I enjoyed brushing my thumb over the back of it.

“Tell me about your family, how you grew up in Pennsylvania,” I said.

She turned her gaze to the distant horizon, hesitating. “Millbrook is a small town. Nothing special.” Her voice was soft, almost distant, as if she were revisiting a world far removed from the luxury surrounding us. Something in her tone, a guarded note I hadn't heard before, sparked my curiosity.

“Tell me more,” I urged, squeezing her hand gently.

With a line between her brows, she began to speak.

Snippets of a childhood filled with more responsibility than carefree days emerged—a family struggling to make ends meet, a loving but often absent father who chased one get rich quick scheme after another, a mother who worked tirelessly as a seamstress to provide for them.

She talked about missing school events and activities, about yearning for things she couldn't have.

“I learned to depend on myself,” she said quietly, her gaze still fixed on the distant horizon. “I had to. There were no fairy godmothers in Millbrook.”

“So you don't believe in fairy tales?” I asked, a teasing lilt in my voice.

Her gaze snapped to mine, her dark blue eyes intense. “No,” she said, her voice firm. “I don't.”

I studied her face, her expression a mix of defiance and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. “I get the feeling there’s more to the story,” I said, my curiosity piqued.

Elise was quiet for a long moment, the only sound the gentle rhythm of the waves lapping against the shore.

Then she took a deep breath and began to tell me about a resin angel she’d brought on the trip.

A memento she’d carried with her for years, though it was anything but a happy memory.

She recounted the story of her father’s broken promise, of the bowling ball that arrived instead of the crystal cat, of her mother’s quiet strength, and the gift of the angel.

“It’s a reminder to make my own dreams come true,” she said, her voice softening. “And not wait around for happy endings to be handed to me.”

I processed her story as we reached the end of the beach and the kayak kiosk.

As we turned around and headed back, the gentle rhythm of the waves formed a soothing backdrop to her words.

I was struck by her strength, by her determination to forge her own path.

I pictured her as a young girl in that small Pennsylvania town, dreaming of a life beyond its borders.

A life she’d created for herself, through sheer grit and hard work.

A fierce protectiveness surged through me, a desire to shield her from the disappointments, the hardships she’d faced, all while acknowledging her raw ability and desire to succeed.

I found myself wanting to give her everything she'd ever wanted, to smooth her path, to see her dreams realized. I wanted to be the one to show her that happy endings weren’t just for fairy tales.

That maybe… they could exist in the real world too.

The intensity of these foreign emotions—protective, possessive, even tender—alarmed me.

What the hell is happening to me ?

I needed to regain control, to reassert the boundaries I'd carefully erected around myself. “You’ve done remarkably well,” I said, pleased with how steady my voice sounded. “You’ve built a successful life for yourself, and I admire you for it.”

Her hand was still nestled in mine, her fingers delicate yet strong. Despite my attempt to distance myself, I couldn't resist the urge to reassure her, to soothe the sadness that lingered in her eyes. My thumb gently stroked her knuckles, a gesture that surprised me as much as it probably did her.

A grateful smile touched her lips. “Thank you. But I’m no Cinderella. My fairy tale involves a killer resume, not a glass slipper.”

Her gentle humor eased the tension that had coiled in my chest. I found myself smiling back, and maybe those self-imposed walls of mine were cracking a little with every shared word, every stolen glance, every touch.

“I’m sorry you had it so rough,” I said, my voice soft. “My own childhood was… a very different story.”

Elise tilted her head, her expression curious. “Different how?”

“My parents weren't wealthy,” I explained, “But they were supportive. My family home was warm and welcoming, and we were comfortably well-off. They encouraged my ambitions, even when those ambitions meant missing family dinners or spending weekends buried in textbooks. They understood my drive, my need to achieve.”

“Lucky you,” Elise said, her voice light. “I think my mom was terrified by how driven I was. Like it was something unnatural. She wanted me to find a nice, stable job close to home and settle down.”

“They even converted our basement into a home office for me when I was fifteen,” I continued, a smile touching my lips at the memory. “It wasn’t much, but it was my sanctuary, my space to create, to strategize, to dream.”

“A teenage boy’s dream come true,” Elise teased. “Unlimited computer access, no annoying siblings barging in to bug you…”

“Exactly,” I said, laughing at the thought of Nate invading my carefully ordered space. Even then, I’d thrived on structure and solitude, qualities my parents seemed to recognize instinctively.

“And you just channeled all that energy into building your empire,” she said, her voice tinged with a trace of awe. “It’s an amazing accomplishment.”

Elise’s simple compliment filled me with satisfaction, more than any award or bank balance.

“Harvard changed everything. That’s where I really came into my own, surrounded by people who were just as driven, just as ambitious, as I was.

That’s where I developed the confidence to believe I could achieve anything. To take risks.”

She remained silent but squeezed my hand as a warm wave splashed over our feet.

“I started my first company while I was there,” I continued, the gentle breeze ruffling through my hair. “It was a software company, a new approach to data analysis, and it took off like a rocket. Three years later, I sold it for a ridiculous amount of money. I haven’t looked back since.”

“No, you certainly haven’t. And I understand what you mean about moving from home changing things,” she said, nodding. “Going away to college was my escape from Millbrook.”

“It was a lucky thing for me that you did.” And worried my words made light of her very serious story, I bent down to brush a soft kiss over her lips.

We continued our walk, and the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, painting the clouds with hues of gold and crimson. I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t experienced in years, a lightness I attributed to the break from the usual pressures of my life.

Except the break was over.

As we walked along the row of cottages, reality reasserted itself.

My thoughts drifted to Laurent, to Celeste, to the vast differences in their personalities and their approaches to business.

I admired Laurent's ruthless ambition, his vast global empire, his relentless pursuit of success.

That drive, that hunger for more… it mirrored my own.

He was the logical choice, the one who would maximize profits and expand Podium's reach.

And give the current staff very sizeable bonuses.

But Celeste’s warmth, her genuine compassion for Podium’s employees, and her heartfelt commitment to the company's legacy tugged at something deeper within me. I thought about Nate’s words, urging me to find a different path, to think beyond the bottom line.

I glanced at Elise beside me, her hand warm and reassuring in mine.

I was surprised at how her simple honesty, her unwavering determination to build her own life, had shifted my perspective.

Had I been too focused on the numbers, on the relentless pursuit of more, and forgotten about the human element?

My mind was in turmoil, a battleground of ambition and… something else I couldn’t dare acknowledge.

Finally, I let go of Elise’s hand as we stepped off the sand and onto the cool grass.

We slipped our shoes back on, and I held the door open for her, my fingers brushing lightly against hers as we entered the cottage.

The air inside was cool and fragrant, a welcome contrast to the humid air outside.

“I need to go freshen up before I meet Nate,” I said, trying to ignore the disappointment that shadowed my words. I wanted to linger. I wanted to stay with her.

“Of course,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ll see you later.”

But as she turned to head to her room, something snapped inside me. I reached for her, pulling her against me. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her breath hitched. The warmth of her body against mine sent a heady jolt of desire through me.

“I promised Nate I’d go with him to a local brewpub on the next island. Kind of a brother thing.”

Her mouth was inches from mine. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’ll have dinner at the bar. It’s fine.”

Except it wasn’t fine. I didn’t understand the push and pull inside me, the roaring urge to tell Nate to go to hell and stay right here. I kissed her, unable to resist the need to taste her lips, to feel her body pressed against mine.

Then my phone buzzed with a text. I broke away with a reluctant laugh. “Two guesses who that is.” I pulled out my phone and confirmed it was Nate asking if I was ready.

Her smile had a sly curve to it. “Go have your brother time. Maybe we can pick up where we left off when you get back.”

I growled and pulled her tight again. “I like the sound of that. I’ll be back soon.”

But as I made my way to meet Nate, a nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered that this was too good to be true.

I'd learned long ago that in business and in life, if something seemed too perfect, it usually was. I pushed the thought aside, determined to enjoy the evening. Because that was the other thing I’d learned since arriving on Calypso Key—don’t analyze every second, and just live in the moment.

And right now I was having one hell of a good moment.