Page 39 of Not that Sea-Rious

Beau

D id Beau have a lawyer? Sure. He was part owner of a business, of course he did. Did Jordan use that lawyer to draft the contract to rip his business from under him? Absolutely.

Fuck him sideways. Beau needed to find a new guy to sort this out. How many ways did his former friend want to screw him over in a week?

There wasn’t a time limit on the offer, but Beau didn’t see a point in delaying the inevitable. Although, it was Sunday. There weren’t exactly many contract attorneys available to review stuff on a Sunday. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to figure out his business.

He had appointments on Monday he’d scheduled weeks ago.

What was he supposed to do about them? Since the buyout hadn’t gone through yet, he supposed he had to keep things going normally, but to what end?

Hell. For all he knew, Jordan had already swooped in and stolen Beau’s clients from him.

Jordan was meticulous like that. The asshole.

He planned to take them from him for his new partner, anyway. What was to stop him from doing it now?

Who was it? When did he have time to find someone to replace Beau? Jordan always complained he barely had the opportunity to scratch his ass. If anything, the last they’d discussed, they were considering adding staff, not splitting.

Shit .

That was when. Jordan must have put out a bat signal and interviewed people. Instead of finding someone to work for him, he identified a partner to push Beau out. That slimy son of a bitch.

It had nothing to do with Megan. She was just a side quest, apparently. How long had that snake in the grass been planning on fucking him over?

Shaking his head, Beau unloaded the last box into the storage unit.

Thankfully, these places were open seven days a week.

So, he wouldn’t have to drive around with everything he owned in the back of his car.

For now, his worldly possessions would be safely tucked away while he sorted out his situation.

With that settled, he locked the unit and returned to his sedan.

The next thing on his agenda was to figure out who could represent him on this business split.

Before last week, Beau would’ve assumed Jordan wouldn’t screw him over.

So, a new contract wouldn’t need such scrutiny.

Now, Beau wanted someone to review this deal with a fine-toothed comb.

The options were to take the buyout or counter it.

Either way, the two of them agreed to a noncompete so they couldn’t go after the companies the original business name was already servicing.

So, whoever wound up with the company got the contracts.

Whoever left would be empty-handed. Well, they’d get money.

Sure, but what about the future? It wouldn’t be enough startup capital to do this all over again.

Scrubbing his face, Beau tried to wipe the stress away. Useless gesture, sure, but it was all he had. His life was a complete and utter disaster.

Beau needed to find a quiet place where he could think and research lawyers. Probably have some lunch too. He hadn’t eaten since he was on the ship and enjoying Marissa’s company.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the memory of being with her—the smell of her hair, the feel of her beside him. Those things had soothed him when he was in a dark hour. If only he could have them now.

She wasn’t available at the moment, and quite frankly, he wasn’t either. He had shit to do that couldn’t wait, so he had to settle for memories. They’d have to comfort him since she couldn’t. This was what being a grown-up was about. Beau needed to man up and get his shit together.

Marissa

Carolyn’s mother decided they couldn’t waste getting dolled up.

So, with their hair far too fancy for their outfits, they headed to the restaurant hosting the rehearsal dinner for a late lunch.

Marissa was starving. Based on the short tempers in the car, everyone else was too. The sooner they got to food the better.

Glancing out the window, watching palm trees fly by, Marissa allowed her mind to wander to her final night with Beau.

Closing her eyes, she couldn’t help but grin as she recalled the way his lips felt along the backs of her legs, up toward her knees, and how she’d giggled when he bit the globes of her ass.

No one had ever done that before. It wasn’t hard. He didn’t break the skin or anything, but it was enough pressure for her body to short-circuit. How many times had he caused her brain to blow a fuse in four days?

Apparently not nearly enough because she wanted more. Sighing, she opened her eyes as the car veered onto the exit ramp. Her phone vibrated, and her heart skipped a beat.

She was far too attached.

Pulling it out, she scanned the screen to see she had a message from Beau.

The smile on her face was goofy, but she didn’t care.

He kept in touch. The first bit of skepticism had passed.

Any thoughts he would ghost her immediately after getting off the ship evaporated, which allowed room for more hope to spawn.

That should be a good thing. Unfortunately, it only made her skin prickle with anxiety.

When she opened the message, she found a picture of Beau in front of a storage unit. Furrowing her brows, she saw a bunch of boxes behind him with his name written on them.

The text accompanying the photo let her know he was headed to his hotel to check in. Things were on course. Beau was a good guy and looked to be keeping his word. The optimism bloomed in her chest and made her heart swell.

This could be something.

“What did he say?” Joyce asked in a tone reserved for girls gushing about their crushes.

Marissa blushed as she fired off a series of emojis back to Beau and tucked her phone back in her bag. “Nothing.”

“I bet it was super cute.” She sighed. “Ted used to send me romantic messages when we first started dating.”

“Are you dating?” Tina asked, turning from the front seat. “I thought it was supposed to be casual.”

“It is,” Marissa insisted. Her friends were just as invested in this as Marissa.

“So, what did he say?” Carolyn asked from the driver’s seat.

“It’s not important.” Marissa sat back in her seat. “He’s checking into his hotel.”

“Our hotel?” Carolyn asked.

“He can’t. It’s booked for the wedding. You have the whole place,” Tina said.

“Why isn’t he staying with you?” Joyce asked.

“Doesn’t he live around here?” Carolyn interjected.

They rapid-fired too many questions. Marissa felt the beginning of a migraine.

How could she politely tell them to butt out?

They were attempting to be supportive, but their words came across as overbearing.

How was she supposed to let things happen naturally if her friends kept pestering her about it?

“Not our hotel. He’s in between apartments. The question-and-answer portion of my love life has concluded. I appreciate your support, but I will not be taking any further inquiries.”