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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

One of my favorite parts about hotels was the breakfast buffets.

In my day-to-day life, I didn’t have a big breakfast — usually just a coffee and a piece of fruit. But that morning, I was hungry after last night’s physical activity, and I was excited for a large selection of toast, cereal, fruit salad and hot food.

“Have we got any plans for today?” I asked Cameron as we took the elevator down to the lobby.

“I do. You just relax and let me take the reins.”

Honestly, that sounded amazing. It was nice to take a break from decision making, and I was excited to aimlessly float through the rest of the weekend without a worry on my mind.

“How do you always know what I need?” I ask.

“I’d say it’s part of my job description, but it’s more than that,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his side affectionately. “I don’t know. I just get you, Alison.”

We shared a warm look before the elevator doors slid open, and we walked through the lobby to the dining room. The smell of eggs, bacon, sausage, and freshly toasted bread lingered in the air, making my stomach grumble. I grabbed a plate and filled it with everything that caught my eye, later joining Cameron at a table with full plates and cups of orange juice.

“No coffee?” he asked.

“I’m trying to cut down this weekend,” I explained. Over the past few weeks, I’d swallowed an unhealthy amount of caffeine.

We were quiet for a few moments as we ate our food. I picked up my phone, about to open my email app. It was a habit of mine, but I caught myself at the last moment.

I glanced across the table, where Cameron was watching me. I flipped my phone over, screen down.

“I know, I know. No work,” I said.

He smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be. It’s nothing to be proud about.”

“But I am,” he insisted. He ran an eye over me, lips quirking. “You often get embarrassed when I compliment you. I’d have thought you’d be used to it by now.”

He was right. Over the years, I’d received a lot of praise and flattery about my accomplishments. I’d had interviews with magazines and won industry awards. But… “It’s different when you say it.”

He gave me a long look, and my stomach flipped. Shit. Had I said too much?

I looked down at my plate and busied myself with slicing a piece of toast.

Cameron reached across the table and gently placed his hand over mine. “We’re going to have so much fun today.”

I smiled at him, relaxing a bit. “I think this is the best breakfast buffet I’ve ever had,” I said, digging into my bowl of yogurt, granola, and raspberries.

“How do you like this hotel?” he asked.

“It’s amazing. Our room has a perfect view of the ocean.”

He smiled. “You know what else this hotel has?”

“What?”

“An amazing spa.”

I stared at him. “You didn’t.”

But of course he did. He remembered that I loved spa appointments.

After breakfast, we wandered into the hotel spa, where we were instructed to change into fluffy bath robes and white slippers. First, we got a massage, lying side by side on comfortable massage beds. My massage therapist was incredible, and under her talented hands, tension I didn’t even know I had melted away .

Afterward, I separated from Cameron. I went to get a facial and body scrub while he went to the steam room.

Hours later, we emerged from the spa in our normal clothes. My skin felt smooth and glowy, and my muscles felt relaxed.

“That was amazing,” I said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He took my hand. “Want to get lunch?”

After a delicious lunch at a restaurant by the beach, we returned to the hotel. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was shining high in the sky. Since it was warm, we decided to take a dip in the hotel pool.

We returned to our hotel room, changed into our swimsuits and slathered on sunscreen. The hotel’s outdoor pool was large, with several different sections of various depths. Luckily, there weren’t too many other people there, allowing us to swim around and flick water at each other like silly teenagers.

“You’re paying for that,” Cameron told me before lunging through the water at me, wrapping his arms around my body and crushing me against him.

I laughed as I grabbed at his shoulders, kicking my feet to keep myself above water. “Sore loser.”

All weekend, he’d made me smile so much that my cheeks were hurting. I couldn’t ever remember feeling so hooked on someone before .

“You look really sexy in this swimsuit,” Cameron continued, his hands drifting up my sides, admiring the light pink, halter one-piece that hugged my body. The plunging v-neck was a tease, even if he already knew what was underneath the thin material.

“You look good yourself,” I replied, playfully snapping the waist of his dark blue swim trunks.

“I aim to please.”

My stomach ached as I laughed at his ridiculous expression. “Alright, alright. I need to go put on more sunscreen.”

Cameron kissed my cheek before releasing me. I climbed out of the pool, pausing to look at him, moving through the water like some kind of Greek god. Oh, yeah. I was hooked.

I tore my eyes away from the sight and headed to the lounge chair where we had set down our things. I grabbed the sunscreen off the chair, but I paused when my eyes caught sight of my phone next to the room key. I glanced over at Cameron, but he was facing the other way, his back to me.

I’d told myself to put work out of my mind, but it wouldn’t hurt if I checked my notifications really quickly. It was a Saturday, so I doubted there’d be anything, but checking would give me peace of mind.

After drying off my hands, I picked up my phone and opened my notifications tab. My heart stopped .

I had received hundreds of emails and multiple missed calls. Most pressing of all were the missed calls and the emails from Henry. We’d submitted the campaign the whole company had worked for weeks on, so why was he calling?

“Oh shit,” I said, fearing the worst. I put my back to the pool, moving into the shade so that I could properly see my phone screen. I opened up one of the emails from Henry, my stomach twisting as I read it.

We’ve decided we want to revise the direction of the campaign. We discussed one version of the campaign when we first started talking before deciding on this new one. After talking with my team, I believe it’s best if we return to the first version.

My jaw dropped. I remembered the meeting we had a few weeks ago, when we’d agreed that the first version wasn’t eye-catching enough, despite it being more informational. Where did this 180 come from?

I opened another email at random. It was from Hannah, head of the design team.

Did you see the new email from Henry? He wants us to scrap everything and start again. Are we still on the same timeline? If so, we’ll have to do weeks of work in a few days. I’ll wait to do anything until I hear from you.

My heart pounded with panic. I tried to get a grip. We’d had clients who’d changed their mind before, but I’d always been in the loop, ready to reroute to a new direction immediately. Now, I’d received the news a day late because I’d made the stupid decision to put my phone on silent. Worse, I wasn’t even in the city — I was hours away, at the beach, on a holiday.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I repeated to myself under my breath. It wasn’t a matter of money — Henry would pay us for the extra time. But I would have to call up employees, ask them to work overtime, and pay them for it. Everyone had already been through so much stress because of the last campaign, and now we had to do it all again.

While I tried to keep calm, I could feel my face heating up, my breathing becoming more rapid. I scanned through several more emails, but there were way too many to read, and I felt overwhelmed.

Focus, Alison. Focus.

I found Henry’s number and hit the call button, listening to my phone ring over and over until I heard him pick up. “Hi, Henry. This is Alison from Firth Marketing.”

“I’ve been trying to contact you since yesterday,” Henry said, sounding frustrated. His tone made me sick to my stomach, reminding me of the times I got in trouble with my parents for doing something wrong. I hated those moments.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect any news on the campaign today, so I wasn’t by my phone,” I explained, needing to figure out how to put this fire out before it burned my whole business.

“I know it’s out of business hours, but I chose your company because you offered assistance at all hours,” Henry replied. “I expect you to uphold your promises.”

I fought the lump in my throat. I had made that promise. If this was any other weekend, I’d have answered his phone calls immediately.

“Of course. I understand,” I told him, trying to keep my voice sounding normal.

“Well, did you read my emails? I need changes made,” he continued.

“I just took a look. So, you’re wanting to return to the first version of the advertisements we spoke about?” I asked, trying to concentrate.

“Yes. After seeing the last draft of this new version, I decided the old version is better. Sure, it doesn’t pop out at you as much, but it gets our point across,” Henry said. “Are you able to do that? Because we still need all the advertising materials by our product launch date.”

He switched everything up and still wanted us to be done by the deadline. Frustration seeped deep into my chest, but I tried to keep it at bay. He was a huge client, and he was paying top dollar.

“Yes, we’ll change over to the old version. I’ll tell my team today, and we’ll get caught up. I’m sure we’ll be able to get everything to you by this Friday.” I already felt dread at the prospect of telling my employees that we had to pull off a miracle.

“Keep me updated,” he said .

I started to make assurances, but realized he’d already hung up. Asshole.

But could I really blame him? He’d been trying to get hold of me since yesterday evening. If I was in his position, I’d be annoyed too.

I tightened my grip on my phone, fighting the urge to throw it across the pool. You can do this. You’ve gotten through work emergencies before.

I cursed under my breath and called the lead of my design team. “Hannah, I’m so sorry to call you on a weekend. I saw you heard from Henry.”

“Yes, I was waiting to hear from you.”

“I’m sorry I took so long to get in touch with you. Henry wants us to return to the original version we talked about. Would it be possible to call everyone to the office?”

“Yes, of course.” Despite the polite words, her voice sounded tight.

“Thank you. I’m out of town right now, but I’ll be back at the office as soon as possible to help get as much done as possible,” I told her. “Just do your best. All of you will be well-compensated for the overtime.”

“We’ll get started,” Hannah replied.

After we ended the call, I lowered my phone, staring at nothing. This felt like a nightmare.

“Can’t let go of work for a minute, huh?” Cameron’s teasing voice sounded behind me.

I slowly turned around to face him, watching his grin plummet off his face at the sight of me. “Are you okay? You look… pale.”

“I need to get back,” I said tonelessly.

He frowned. “What? Did something happen.”

“Work emergency.”

“I’m going to need more than that.”

How could he sound so calm?

“Henry wants us to redo the campaign. He’s been trying to reach me all weekend, and everyone is freaking out.”

Cameron took a step closer to me, hands out. “Hey, let’s just calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I snapped, dodging his hands. “You should’ve heard about this too, but no, you had the brilliant idea to turn off work notifications off. And like an idiot, I listened to you. I have no idea what I was thinking.”

He looked wounded. “I’m sorry. I had no idea this would happen.” He hesitated. “I just wanted to enjoy my time here with you.”

“We could’ve started fixing this immediately, but instead we’ve been wasting time, playing in the pool, having that spa appointment.” I glared at him “Even if we’re on holiday, you’re still my executive assistant. You should’ve been on top of this. I should’ve been on top of it.” I wasn’t just angry with him — I was angry at myself too.

“I thought that while we were here, we could stop being boss and employee, just for a moment,” he said quietly .

“Well, we can’t,” I snapped. “No matter where we go, I’m still the CEO. And you’re meant to anticipate disasters and be on top of things the moment they happen.”

He looked stung, and I felt a pang of guilt, but I had more important things to worry about. “I’m heading back to the room,” I said, voice like ice. “I’m getting changed and then I need to head to the office, ASAP.”

“Alison, just hang on a second,” he said, grabbing my arm.

I yanked it away. “Don’t. I need you back in work mode right now,” I said. “Check us out, organise how we’re getting to the office, and call Henry’s office to try and patch things up.”

With that, I turned around and marched back to the hotel. Beneath the panic, I felt a twinge of regret. Yes, I’d been rude, ordering Cameron around, but at the same time, this was his job. He should’ve realised turning off our work notifications was a bad idea.

Then again, it wasn’t only his fault. He hadn’t forced me to put my phone on silent. I’d done that willingly.

I’d been so stupid.

I shook my head as I stepped into the elevator, jabbing the 30 th floor button. I couldn’t dwell on Cameron and our relationship. I had more important things to think about.

If something bad happened to Firth Marketing, it didn’t just affect me. It affected everyone who had a job there, including him. We could lose clients, drop in revenue, and collapse as our competitors took control of the market.

I couldn’t be a failure, even if that cost my relationship with Cameron.

Why would he want to be with a failure anyway?