One problem: Crew just didn’t care about the challenge anymore. He cared about what path in life he was on. If that meant the old man won, then so be it. Before starting on this resort, Crew hadn’t realized it, but he really hadn’t been able to look himself in the mirror without feeling shame at what he’d become. So much had changed, and he had to admit that he was grateful to his dad.
He passed the front counter, his staff barely glancing his way before going back to their work. Luckily, Haley had decided to keep her mouth shut while he led her to his private office.
He placed his hand on the small of her back and let her walk in ahead of him while he enjoyed the gentle sway of her hips. Once inside, he shut and locked the door. He didn’t want interruptions. This woman just had to go away — he was too busy to deal with her request, or to watch her try to achieve her goals with other men.
Crew offered her a chair, then moved behind his desk, thinking it wiser for him to place a solid piece of furniture between the two of them. As she took her time sitting down, he noticed her eyes taking in everything around her. She was observant, well aware of her surroundings. This was a good quality to have, something to admire.
“I thought my room was nice, but this office is spectacular. I bet you a month’s worth of groceries that the paintings are real,” she said with a whistle.
Crew was about to make a snarky comment when her words hit him. “Your room?” He wanted clarification.
“Yes. I checked in tonight. I have to tell you, you know how to decorate. My room is fantabulous, and I haven’t seen one tiny grain of sand inside this entire resort. That’s impressive, considering we’re right on the beach.”
“Why did you check in?” he growled, coming right to the point.
“Because I won a terrific prize package back in Seattle and I get two spectacular weeks here. Are you saying I’m not welcome?” she asked a bit too innocently.
“I told you I wasn’t willing to play your games, Haley, and yet you stalk me. Why not just leave?”
“I accepted your answer, Mr. Storm. Was I following you tonight? Did I seek you out? No, I did not. Just because you won’t give me what I want doesn’t mean that I will simply give up. I have a mission to complete, and there are plenty of men out there who can help me. Maybe I haven’t seen any as charming as you — OK, charming at times — or with your knowledge of what it is that makes a woman sexy, but their advice and teaching should be enough to guide me to become the woman I wish to be. Besides, who in their right mind would give up two free weeks here?” she asked, looking at him as if he were certifiable.
Crew’s vision was starting to blur. She spoke with such conviction that he had no doubt she would succeed in finding a suitable man. Shouldn’t that be a good thing for him? She’d be out of sight, out of mind, not his problem. Unfortunately, she was his problem — for no reason he could figure, he actually cared what happened to her, and he shouldn’t. Sheesh. He’d met this woman only this morning.
He had plans — goals — and he couldn’t afford any distractions right now. His father would be here soon, and though Crew didn’t care about his stupid trust fund any longer, he needed to prove to the man who had raised him that neither of them had wasted their time and effort.
“Who is this man you seek to attract? Why would you want someone who doesn’t want you for who you are? I’m really just curious.”
“Who he is doesn’t matter. As for wanting me for who I am, that’s more difficult. You wouldn’t know anything about not being raised as a Storm, not having a privileged life from the moment you were born. You’ve always had everything, never had to struggle; you’ve never gone through troubles. You were born wealthy and beautiful. There is no way you could possibly have a clue what it’s like for those of us on the other side,” she spat out.
“I am not a snob.” He was insulted she’d even think such a thing.
“Ha! I have always wondered if snobby people realize they’re snobs. Do they go to bed at night thinking they’re better than others? Do they snicker at people less fortunate than they are and go out of their way to make the poor saps’ lives miserable? Or do they not know the pain and suffering they cause? As I look at the confusion in your eyes, I think I have my answer. Maybe some of them do and some of them don’t. But I will tell you this: my years of school were a misery. The girls tormented me, called me names, made me feel horrible about myself. They sought joy through the pain they inflicted on me and others. Did it make them feel better about themselves, superior? Maybe. Maybe not. I really don’t care. My revenge comes by having a good life now. I get revenge through my success. Part of that is by changing from being a girl who was so persecuted that I had to hide in the shadows just so they wouldn’t notice me. I am done being afraid. I am done letting what other people think about me predict my actions. I am also done speaking to you. There is no way you will ever understand any of this.”
Haley started to stand and Crew felt a moment’s panic. What she said tore at him. Had he ever made someone feel like this? Either knowingly or unknowingly? If he had, it was unacceptable and to his eternal shame. He could never be OK with hurting another human for his own personal gain or pleasure.
“Please sit.” His tone had calmed; his anger was deflated. How could he be angry with this woman, a woman who had so much hurt evident in her eyes? How could he possibly turn her away? Though he knew better than to accept her offer, he somehow couldn’t chase away the desire to help.
And he knew he would regret this before the words came from his mouth.
“I will help you.”
At first she just stared, but joy quickly overspread her face.
Crew shook his head gently. “Hold on before you get too excited. You have much more inside you than you realize, Haley. There is fire brewing in your veins, passion in your eyes, and what I’m sure is a pretty spectacular body beneath your ridiculously baggy clothes. I will help you to see yourself — not help you change who you are. There is nothing I see that needs changing.”
He could tell by the shocked look on her face that she didn’t believe him for a second. How cruel people must have been to her.
“I need to know a little bit about you,” he continued. “Where you grew up. What your dreams are. What things you are attracted to. Before I can show you who you truly are, I need to know who you think you are.”