Page 7 of Clock Strikes Paradise (Island Escapes #4)

Chapter Six

Elise

The private dining room at Orchid Restaurant hummed as I circulated, the room bustling with energy and laughter.

I scanned the small crowd, taking in our two bidders with their entourages mingling amidst the soft clinking of wine glasses.

My eyes landed on Clay, back to looking every bit the CEO in his black custom suit.

Except tonight he’d added a tropical hint with a turquoise tie.

The errant lock of hair was again suitably tamed as he held a glass of Cabernet in one hand.

I didn’t need to make any comparisons. He was easily the best-looking man in the room.

Clay had an effortless way of commanding attention, a magnetism that drew people in. My own outfit, a white blouse, tailored gray skirt, and black pumps, felt simple by comparison, but it would do for the professional image I wanted to maintain.

As I sipped my dry Riesling, I reflected on my surroundings. Our private venue for tonight was gorgeous. Partially open to the warm air, the heavenly scent of nearby colorful orchids drifted throughout. An open bar sat in the corner and two tables of gourmet hors d'oeuvres stretched along one wall.

“Your cottage looks lovely,” said Sophie, Laurent’s assistant, as she joined me. Also dressed for work, she held something fruity and tropical in one hand. “Lucky you. I’m sharing a garden bungalow with another of Laurent’s hangers-on.”

My smile was polite and professional. “I believe all the accommodations here are quite spectacular.”

“Speaking of spectacular...” Celeste’s assistant, Isabelle, sidled up next to us, her gaze fixed on Clay. “I’ve seen plenty of pictures in magazines, but he’s even better looking in person, isn’t he?” She twirled a strand of her curly golden hair, eyeing him like a perfectly cooked steak.

I swallowed the sudden pang that twisted in my stomach. Clay might be a robotic workaholic, but that didn’t mean I liked seeing him viewed like he was on the menu. I inhaled, striving to be professional and forced a smile. “I couldn’t say. I only view him as my boss.”

Sophie smirked and raised her glass. “To breathtaking views, then. Both inside and outside our cottages.”

I clinked my glass with hers and Isabelle’s, then took a sip of wine. Once again, my eyes drifted to Clay as he spoke with Laurent.

As the evening progressed, I made a point to be ever the professional while conversing with both parties, trying to anticipate any need they might have.

But I couldn’t keep from sneaking glances at Clay.

At his aqua-hued tie and the way it brought out the intensity of his eyes.

Wrenching my gaze away, I concentrated instead on the western horizon, which still held a touch of crimson .

Catching movement, I steeled myself as Laurent sauntered toward me, his hair gleaming like polished silver and onyx.

“Ah, bonsoir ,” he drawled, his French accent dripping with disdain. “I must say, this little soirée is quaint, but my accommodations leave much to be desired.”

Of course they do.

I bit the inside of my cheek, willing myself to maintain a placid expression. “I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Dubois. Is there a particular issue with your beachfront cottage?”

Laurent's perfectly manicured hand waved dismissively. The gorgeous young woman clinging to his arm huffed a bored sigh, and she looked at least half his wife’s age—his wife, who was nowhere to be found. I’d heard their marriage was rocky.

“It's all so... pedestrian,” he continued. “I expected something more befitting a man of my stature.”

The urge to throttle him surged through me, but I pushed it down and plastered on a solicitous smile. “I understand, sir. Perhaps I could speak with Evan Markham, the general manager? I’m sure he'd be more than happy to provide any additional amenities you might need to enhance your comfort.”

“Additional amenities?” Laurent scoffed, his steel-blue eyes narrowing. “Ma chère, it would take a complete overhaul to bring that cottage up to par.”

I tilted my head and maintained my mask. “If you have any specific concerns, Mr. Dubois, I'd be more than happy to discuss them with Evan myself. Your satisfaction is our utmost priority.”

“I’m thirsty,” the woman on his arm said in a thick eastern European accent, and waved her empty wine glass.

Laurent's gaze raked over me, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. For a moment, I thought he might actually deign to provide details. Instead, he sniffed, swirling the dregs of champagne in his flute.

“I suppose it's too much to expect true luxury in this... antique place.” He sighed dramatically. With a pointed look at his glass, he added, “Now, if you'll excuse me, we’re in desperate need of a refill. At least the champagne is passable. French, of course.”

As the pair sauntered away, I allowed myself a brief moment to close my eyes, exhaling slowly. When I opened them, my professional mask was back in place, ready to navigate the next challenge.

In contrast, Celeste was a delight. She was here unaccompanied, her husband having remained at their home in California.

Her warm smile and genuine interest in Podium made her easy to talk to.

She and her father, who still sat on the board of directors, built their company from nothing.

As we discussed the upcoming schedule of events, I was confident that things were off to a great start, despite the disdainful Frenchman.

Even Bart was making the rounds and being both helpful and gracious.

To my surprise, I found myself getting along with him, even laughing a few times.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be as bad as I’d feared.

After the reception wound down, I retreated to my beautiful cottage, still touched by Clay’s unexpected gesture.

After a long, blissful shower, I poured myself a glass of cucumber-infused water and stepped out onto the deck overlooking the beach and ocean.

The starry darkness amplified the sound of waves lapping against the shore, and I eased out a long sigh, letting the soothing melody calm my nerves after the hectic day.

Clay’s cottage was to my left, its windows glowing with soft interior light. I wondered if the lights were due to the turndown service or if he had left the reception. I took another sip of water, my thoughts drifting to tomorrow morning’s diving excursion.

Closing my eyes, I allowed the peaceful sounds of the ocean to wash over me, my anticipation for the adventures ahead growing stronger with every moment.

The next morning, Clay, Bart, and I gathered on the deck next to the canal at the eastern edge of Calypso Key, preparing to board the boat Indigo Heaven for our private dive trip.

I hadn’t needed much time to choose my outfit, going with a sporty one-piece swimsuit and a white cover-up.

I wasn’t about to wear the red bikini I’d brought and bit back a laugh as I shook my head.

What possessed me to bring that ?

As we approached the vessel tied up in the canal, April, our divemaster, greeted us with a warm smile. Wearing a long-sleeved rash guard and board shorts, her honey-blonde hair was plaited into two long braids.

“Good morning, guys!” she said. “I’m so excited to share this diving experience with you.”

“Us too,” I replied as my heart thumped steadily. Whether from nerves or excitement, I wasn’t quite sure. “I can’t wait to see what lies beneath these beautiful waters.”

After we climbed aboard the boat, April went over safety procedures and equipment checks.

I glanced at Clay, who was listening intently.

When we’d met up, seeing him in a blue T-shirt and board shorts had made me do a double take.

It was a little unsettling to realize there were facets to him that I was completely unaware of, that maybe there was more to the man than I’d given him credit for .

But that surprise was nothing compared to the shock I got when we neared the dive site, and April told us to start getting ready.

Completely nonchalant, Clay pulled his T-shirt off and tossed it in the dry area, revealing a sculpted chest and muscular shoulders.

His skin was pale, but he obviously spent plenty of time in the gym.

I damn near gasped. Quickly, I focused my attention back on April, hoping no one had noticed my brief lapse in concentration.

Once we were suited up and briefed, we eagerly jumped off the stern platform and descended into the crystal-clear water. I was clumsy at first, considering this was my first dive post-certification.

But soon I forgot about being self-conscious.

The underwater world that revealed itself before us was nothing short of magical—vibrant coral formations and schools of colorful fish darting about.

I fumbled with the unfamiliar gear, but April’s steady presence helped me find my footing.

Or rather, my swimming. When I gave her an affirmative nod that I was okay on my own, she took the lead of our little quartet.

Clay eased closer to my side, remaining there throughout the dive.

He helped me several times when I fumbled with my bulky, vest-like buoyancy compensation device, providing assistance without ever being too forward.

His silent concern touched me, even as I tried not to focus on how his pale eyes seemed even more vivid behind his mask.

Instead, I allowed myself to become fully immersed in the wonders surrounding us.

We explored hidden nooks and crannies, admired the delicate dance of pale-pink sea anemones swaying in the gentle surge. We even spotted a shy reef shark in the distance. Bart looked even clumsier than I felt, and April had to help him several times as he became either too deep or too shallow.

In contrast, Clay’s movements underwater were graceful and effortless. He seemed so connected with the environment around us, gliding through the water while maintaining a respectful distance from the delicate marine life.