I watched Bernadette leave our room. Part of me wanted to follow her. I was irritated that she was being so difficult. She had no right to be angry. This was just acting, it didn’t mean anything that I kissed her. And yet . . . I couldn’t deny that I had enjoyed it. She was soft in my arms and I wanted to hold her there so much longer. I was hungry for her and kissed her much more fiercely than what the job required. Honestly, I didn’t need to kiss her in front of the receptionist to keep up appearance, but I had wanted to so badly.

It was good that she had left the room. It gave me time to collect myself. I was in danger of losing my professional distance with her, and that would break my rule of never getting emotionally involved with anyone. But I couldn’t deny that I really wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to do more than just kiss her. I wanted to unbutton her sweater and rip off that pink dress and take her on the oversized bed in this honeymoon suite.  I wanted to run my tongue over her breasts and have my cock inside her. What am I thinking, I chastised myself. This was my assistant and I shouldn’t have these thoughts about her. However, I could have sworn that she had kissed me back in the lobby. But I must have been imaging it.

I recalled that she had said she ‘used to’ have a boyfriend when I inquired about her seeing action movies. I knew that meant she was single now. I was surprised that she was so optimistic about love when it sounded like she had recently been hurt in love. Part of me wanted to take away that pain and make her mine. But the other part of me knew that was impossible.

I unpacked my things and tried not to think about Bernadette. I took a moment to enjoy the room. It was a lush suite, tastefully decorated in white and gold. There was a large bedroom, a living room with a couch, TV, fireplace and a gorgeous bathroom with an oversized bathtub that had jets on the sides. I thought about Bernadette in that tub, naked and smooth to the touch. No! I wouldn’t think about her like that.

I needed to clear my head. I decided to go for a walk. Maybe I would get lucky and run into Mr. Coleman. That would make my job easier. And being distracted by my assistant certainly wasn’t making things easier.

 

The resort was beautiful, with lush flora and fauna that emphasized the tropical feel of the place. White marble paths cut through vivid green lawns, most leading to the private beach. The air was warm, and I could smell the flowers that grew along the paths. They were sweet, but not as appealing as Bernadette’s perfume. I strode to the beach, where it was cooler. I took off my sandals when I got to the shore, and the white sand was silky-soft underfoot. The water was a vibrant blue that wouldn’t need any photoshopping to look like any resort brochure. I inhaled the salty air as I strode along the shore. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bernadette, and that bothered me. I hadn’t been so obsessed with anyone since Molly, and I had ended up marrying her. And look what happened after that, I reminded myself.

I veered away from the beach and back to the resort. As nice as a solitary walk on the beach was, it wasn’t going to get me the photos of Mr. Coleman that I would need to get paid. I gripped my phone in my pocket, ready to pull it out and take some photos should I run into the man on my walk.

I didn’t find him, and after circling around the resort a few more times, I reluctantly returned to the room. I opened the door, wondering if Bernadette had come back. She hadn’t. I felt a stab of disappointment, even though she was mad at me and would probably just yell at me some more when she did get back. Though her cheeks had a very pretty flush in them when she was angry, not that I’d ever tell her that. I wondered what else could make her so flushed. Not that I’m going to find out, I reminded myself.

I sat on the bed and grabbed the room service menu from the nightstand. It had gotten late, and I was famished. I had no interest in going to any of the six onsite restaurants, and a quiet night sounded good. I dialed room service and started to place my order.

The door opened, and Bernadette entered the room. She had taken off her sweater and was holding it. She looked more tired than angry.

“Hold on a sec,” I said to the operator on the phone. I turned to Bernadette. “Would you like some food?”

“Huh?”

“Dinner. Do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Bernadette said.

“You got it,” I said. Back on the phone, I continued, “I’ll take two of the cheeseburgers, extra fries, two piña coladas and a slice of cheesecake.” I hung up.

“You’re just going to order for me?” Bernadette asked, but she didn’t sound as angry as earlier, just exasperated. “What if I was a vegetarian?”

“I wouldn’t hire a vegetarian. They are a crime against enjoying delicious meat.” She looked at me quizzically.

“I’m kidding. Not that vegetarians aren’t missing out on real food, but that I wouldn’t hire one. Your dietary preferences didn’t enter into my decisions to hire you at all.”

“And what did?” Bernadette sounded curious.

You looked like a sexy librarian, I thought. But I knew better than to say that. “You were available and looked mildly competent.”

“You do know how to compliment a girl.”

“Besides, you’re not a vegetarian.”

“And how do you know that?”

“You had a sausage biscuit at the airport.”

“Ok, I’m not a vegetarian.”

“Of course you’re not. I just said so. Besides, I’ve heard the burgers are fantastic here.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Bernadette said, but she didn’t sound mad.

“I can’t stop you being mad at me. But it will ruin your appetite and then you’ll miss out on enjoying a fantastic burger.”

“That’s not true,” she said, but she was smiling. “Wait, is it true? You know such weird things.”

“You better not risk it,” I said, also smiling now.

Bernadette flopped onto the other side of the bed. “I am pretty hungry. And I would hate to not enjoy my food.” She looked at me seriously. “I might have overreacted a bit. I guess we are here to pose as a couple, so it would look weird if we didn’t, you know, act like a couple,” she said awkwardly. “But just don’t kiss me, unless it’s totally necessary.”

“Cross my heart,” I said. I enjoyed watching her squirm far more than I should.

“It’s just acting, right?” she said, and it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. “I just broke up with my boyfriend, and it’s just a bit weird kissing someone else.”

“Why did you two break up?” I asked

“I saw him with another woman,” she said, and the hurt in her voice was audible. “It was only dinner, but he had promised to go out with me. And I just couldn’t trust him after that.”.”

“You know my stance on relationship, but even I’ll admit that trust is critical for a couple,” I said.

 “But I am really glad you hired me,” she said with sincerity, probably trying to change the subject. “I’m probably just getting grumpy because I’m tired. I’ll be glad to get some sleep. Oh my god!” she suddenly yelled.

“What?” I asked, worried something was wrong.

“Sleep,” she cried. “Where are we going to sleep?”

“In bed . . .” I trailed off, realizing the problem. Naturally, there was only one bed in the honeymoon suite. “Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Are you sure?” I wasn’t sure if Bernadette was disappointed or relieved. Probably relieved.

“Certainly. It’s better for my back.”

“Thanks.”

“Think nothing of it,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. I knew she wouldn’t have slept in the same bed as me. And I wasn’t going to get involved with her, I reminded myself. Still, it would have been nice to have her in bed next to me.