As I stormed off, I mused that a sane person might have been embarrassed. I wasn’t awfully surprised by the colossal shit-show that had gone down, though—it seemed I was doomed to disappoint everyone around me.

Okay, maybe that’s a touch melodramatic, but to tell the truth, I couldn’t care less what the employees of EBgen thought of me. They could think I was a spoiled bitch if they felt inclined. I wasn’t going to be the one they worked for in the long term, regardless of what my mother might have thought. While I still cared deeply about my mom and detested the idea of being such a disappointment to her, I had to forge my own path.

I considered retiring to my room to sleep off the alcohol, but that would have been all too responsible. I had defied my mother; I should be going all in with the rebellious teenager act and find a keg to chug, or a hot bad boy to bang.

Except I was on a boat. In the middle of the ocean. And my only company seemed to be dozens of balding, beer-bellied, middle-aged men, and possibly one cute shirtless guy who I hadn’t seen in far too long…

At that point, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t hallucinated the entire meeting. Even if he was real, he was probably gay. Men that handsome were always gay, or taken. Possibly both, but almost always one or the other.

Regardless, I would not tuck my tail between my legs and slink off to my room to sleep off the humiliation. There was a large pool on the upper deck, and I could only imagine that it was deserted at that moment, as everyone else on board was celebrating the imminent expansion of my mother’s company. I was beginning to feel like a resentful sibling, but it wasn’t as if I could hold my own against a Fortune 500 company.

I had to stop thinking about it. I had to do something, anything, to take my mind off of the company and that cursed woman who seemed to haunt my thoughts. Where had that shirtless guy gotten to?

I imagined my mother berating me for thinking I stood a chance with him. ‘Oh Ella, he’s out of your league! Men don’t like funny women!’

She’d have been right, on some level at least; while I’d had boyfriends in the past who’d found my sense of humor to be to their liking, my snappy one-liners and sarcasm weren’t well received by the average businessman, or business man-child. The men I’d been set up with by my mother could hardly be considered real men, in any sense of the word. They were a bunch of entitled pricks who expected me to drop my panties as soon as they mentioned the phrase ‘stock brokerage.’ I enjoyed money just as much as the next girl, but I had plenty of my own.

Not to brag, but there had been numerous times when I’d been forced to wonder if the men I dated were the male equivalent of gold diggers. The wonders of living in the lap of luxury: nothing was real. Most women had breast implants, most men had hour-long grooming routines, and love was the sort of thing you read about in fairy tales.

I liked to believe that someday I would find my Prince Charming. I was losing hope on the whole ‘charming’ part, but I could still hold out for an unattractive monarch-in-training. At least I would get to see the world beyond staring at the back of my mother’s head as she dragged me on another business venture. Maybe I’d have an affair with a handsome gardener, or a pool boy.

I’d had my fair share of bad sexual experiences in my time, usually inadvertently orchestrated by mother dearest. ‘But darling, he’s got such a wonderful personality, and his father is one hell of a looker.’ I’d met the majority of my mother’s employees, and it made me question what the hell she defined as a looker. Someone with eyes, possibly?

By the time I finally stepped onto the upper deck, I was tired out. I wanted to lie to myself and say that the alcohol had absolutely nothing to do with it, but what was the point? I’d still have to answer to that dreaded hangover in the morning. For now, though, the stars shone brightly in the night sky, and I mused that it would have been a beautiful sight to share with someone.

I found myself much less enchanted with that thought when I realized that there was someone else sprawled on one of the pool chairs. I couldn’t get a good look at him from where I was standing, and I was tempted to give up on the distant hope of enjoying the remainder of my night. I wasn’t going to let some deckhand ruin my efforts, however, and I certainly wasn’t going to balk at the sight of one of EBgen’s employees.

I strode across the deck, vaguely aware that the alcohol in my system was making it increasingly hard to keep myself calm and collected. I drew closer to the other person who was slumped in his pool chair, noting that he hadn't dressed in swimming trunks. He had his arm thrown across his eyes, and I could make out the well-formed musculature of his abdomen as I grew close. My mouth dried, and I was certain for a moment that I had found myself lost in some fever dream. As I sat in the seat beside him, I lost all doubt.

“Funny, seeing you here,” I slurred, cursing myself for how tipsy I was.

The man drew his arm away from his eyes, quirking a brow in my direction. He looked confused at first; but after a moment, recognition dawned in his eyes and he sat upright.

“Oh, it’s you. Sorry about nearly running you over earlier today. I was in a bit of a hurry. For what good it did.” The stranger grinned, rolling his eyes.

I tried to force a smile, but I could feel the booze blues creeping up on me. He watched me curiously, looking almost concerned.

“I’m Paul, by the way. I wanted to catch your name, but, like I said…” He trailed off, offering me a broad smile. “It must be meant to be, us meeting here like this.”

“Maybe. I’m having a bit of trouble with things that are meant to be, though,” I muttered, my mouth feeling gummy.

The man hummed, grabbing a bottle of water from beside him and offering it to me.

“Want a sip? You sound like you need it. Don’t worry; I don’t have cooties.”

Hesitantly, I reached out to accept the bottle, and our hands brushed briefly. I felt my cheeks redden, musing that he looked all too pleased with himself. I also mused that it was an unquestionably good look on him.

I took a long swig from the water bottle, swishing it in my mouth before gulping it down. I breathed a sigh, surprised at just how melancholy it sounded. I had to pull myself together. This cute guy thought meeting me at the pool was fate, and here I was, acting all sad and pathetic.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart? You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” he drawled, taking the bottle back from me.

Feeling tears begin to pool in my eyes at the memory of what had happened with my mother, I shook my head slightly. There was no way this man could ever hope to understand—but at the very least, he wasn’t one of my mom’s employees. If I let off some steam venting to him, it wasn’t as if he would report it to her.

“I had a fight with my mom,” I murmured, wringing my hands. “It’s the same old thing. She’s been trying to run my life since I was born, and it just…it finally came to a head.” I met his gaze, and he looked at me curiously.

“Does your mom work for EBgen? I was under the impression that this ship was rented out for company use,” he inquired softly, taking a sip of his water.

Distantly, I had the immature thought that the sip was almost like an indirect kiss. My cheeks reddened again, and I cleared my throat, processing his question about five seconds too late.

“Oh. Oh, you don’t know my mother?” I replied, dreadful uncertainty in my voice.

Was there truly a man who had not been tainted by my mother’s touch? Metaphorically, of course. There was no way this stud would have banged my mom. Ugh. That was not a thought I wanted to entertain, but, once again, my mother had a way of forcing her way into every facet of my life.

“I’m afraid not, doll. Should I know her?” he asked, resting his head back and staring skyward.

I wanted to babble on about what a beautiful night it was and ignore further thoughts regarding Martha Beck. But I knew I owed him an explanation.

“My mother is Martha Beck. She’s the owner of EBgen, and she’s been trying to groom me into taking over for years. I just…” I trailed off, noticing that he looked stricken. “Is something wrong?”

Perhaps he was not as untouched by my mother as I had thought. It was a silly notion anyway, for anyone not to know who she was. She was one of the most famous business leaders in the country. I parted my lips, prepared to sputter out an excuse to leave, but Paul simply offered me a warm smile.

“Not at all, darlin’. I was just surprised. Carry on,” he said nonchalantly.

“I’m tired of thinking about my mom. Tell me about yourself, Paul.”

I grinned. He seemed eager to oblige.