Ryan knocked harder on Charla’s door. “Charla, please, I need to speak to you. Open the door.”
The door flew open, and Poppy stood before him. Her lips were pursed and her eyebrow cocked. Anger simmered in her eyes.
“Ah yes, Mr. Murphy, is it? Come to tell us more lies and spy on your employees?”
Ryan took a deep breath. He deserved her words. “I’ve been found out.”
“While we little worker bees may not have Internet or cell phones, we’re still allowed some reading material.” Poppy held up a magazine, and on the cover was a picture of a smiling Ryan looking effortless and carefree beneath a headline that read “Where in the World is Ryan Murphy?”
A slick, oily feeling oozed through his gut.
“Damn tabloid.” His gaze met Poppy’s. “She’s seen it, then, the cover?”
Poppy nodded. “Just after her massage. I always thought there was something off about you. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Now I know. You’re not one of us.” Poppy flipped through the pages of the magazine. “Yachts and planes and homes about the globe. Had a bit of fun, did you, slumming with the plain-type people? The working class?”
“It’s not like that,” Ryan said. “Not like that at all.”
“I’m not the one you need to explain such a big lie to. Not me. I believe your working-class plaything is the one who needs an explanation. That is, if you even think she’s worthy of such a thing.”
“Stop it, Poppy. Just stop. This is me. I’ve been me all along. Please, I grew up just like anyone else in this dorm. Got lucky on some good business tips, and here I am. We’re really not much different, you and I, and—”
Poppy leaned forward. “Stop right there. You and me, we might come from the same background, but that’s where our similarities end. I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t run around lying to people I love. Telling them one thing while doing another.”
There were so many things that came to mind. “Really, Poppy, you don’t? You’ve let Trevor know then? How you really feel about him?”
Anger flamed through Poppy’s eyes. “My private life isn’t your concern, Mr. Murphy. I believe that as my employer, you need not concern yourself with who I date.” Poppy started to close the door, but Ryan stuck his hand out and held it open.
“Poppy. Please. I’m sorry. You’re right. I deserve every bit of your anger. But please, my feelings for Charla are real. Please tell me where she is.”
Poppy paused.
“Please, Poppy, I do love her, honestly I do.”
“The beach,” Poppy said softly. “Staff side. She’s not happy. Angry. Betrayed. A bit devastated. Understandably so. She’s been jerked around by men and thought you were different. Now she doesn’t think she can believe you. Her knight in shining armor.”
Ryan’s heart hurt with Poppy’s words, but he’d known if he didn’t tell Charla first, that the entire lie would explode in his face. Yet he hadn’t told her. He’d put off telling Charla the truth over and over and over again. Why? Why didn’t he want her to know who he really was? He’d shown her his heart but kept his identity away from the woman he loved. “Thanks, Poppy. Thank you.”
Poppy nodded. “Trevor’s hurt too. He’s gone to cry into his words. You’ll need to apologize to him next. You’ve cut quite a swath. We haven’t told anyone, but I know all the administration and most of the women in housekeeping subscribe to this magazine too.”
Ryan shook his head. He’d need to have a staff meeting this very day. Tell all of Mesquale what he’d done and why. Please let them understand why he’d hidden his identity from them. He’d worked just as hard as any of them. Maybe they’d remember what a good worker he’d been. Maybe they’d take the best of what he’d done and forgive him the rest.
“Thanks, Poppy.” Ryan turned and walked toward the door at the end of the hall.
“Make this right, Ryan Murphy,” Poppy called down the hall. “You broke her heart. Now find a way to put all those broken pieces back together again.”
*
Charla sat on the sand, the sky a deceptively tranquil blue above her. Her blonde hair danced around her head.
“May I sit?” He stood beside her. She had her knees tucked up under her chin and her forearms wrapped around her shins. She was curled into a tiny ball, and she protected her heart with her body.
“It’s your beach,” Charla said. “I suppose you can sit anywhere you please.”
Ouch. Her words stabbed his heart. The sharp tone in her voice. He sat on the sand beside her, careful not to touch her.
An ache crept through him. Had he lost the ability to touch her forever? He closed his eyes. Please, no. “I’m sorry.” What other words could he say?
Her chin rested on the tops of her knees. She stared out into the blue of the ocean. “I know you must be, but I’m not sure sorry is enough.”
Her words were a pure and honest expression of her pain. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I understand you’re hurt and you deserve to be angry with me. But will you let me explain or at least try to explain? Because I don’t even know for sure … I don’t even know all of it and why.”
She slid her chin to the right, and her gaze locked to his. Those beautiful blue eyes, the same color as the sky above him, held pain and questions.
“I came to Mesquale to escape. To get away from all the pain … from when Paloma … when she died. I sold Metro and bought Mesquale. For months after I purchased the resort I couldn’t even come here. I just … I went from place to place around the world Finally I arrived when Antoine got here.”
“What? You’ve been at Mesquale for …” She looked off into the distance. “… you’ve been here for nine months?”
Ryan nodded.
“But you only started in food and beverage a month ago. Where have you been?”
“First maintenance and then housekeeping.”
“I would have noticed you in housekeeping and then coming over to beverage. That doesn’t happen very often. Lots of people would take note of a transfer like that.”
“Right. So …” Ryan scraped his hand through his hair. This got worse and worse. How could he explain? “I didn’t look like the same person for either of those jobs.”
“You wore disguises? So you could spy on all of us?” Her voice hit a high and hard pitch, a sound he’d never heard come from Charla before now. She pulled her feet beneath her and started to stand. He grasped her arm.
“I understand you’re upset. I do. Charla, if you never speak to me again, please, please just let me explain. I have to explain. I need you to know why. If nobody else will listen, then fine, but you? I need to tell you.”
She stared into his eyes, deciding if he deserved this opportunity to tell his story. After what felt like forever she sat and crossed her legs. She pulled her arm gently from his grasp. “I’m listening.”
“I’d heard that the Chinese conglomerate didn’t take care of the Mesquale workers. I also heard that middle management was not doing their job. I owned Metro Media for a long while. I built it from the ground up. We were a big company that managed to feel like a small business. We did that by not having many middle managers. Every employee could walk into my office at any time and never fear retribution from management. I didn’t want to walk into Mesquale and just fire all of management. I knew there were some good managers here, but I also knew that if the employees had been treated badly by management, then they wouldn’t trust me.”
“So you lied to all of us?”
“I decided to be one of you. For as long as I could in the departments I thought had the most managerial problems. Maintenance? I saw the problem the manager was having, and we took care of him. We sent him to get treatment, and when he’s ready, he’ll come back to Mesquale.”
Charla nodded.
“Housekeeping? All of the staff was working too hard and not being paid enough. Plus they were having to purchase some work supplies out of their own salary. After three days watching the housekeeping staff, I knew what had to be done. They’ve all gotten raises, and we’ve changed policies in that department to benefit the staff.”
“Then there was food and beverage.” Ryan grasped a handful of sand. “I’d heard the rumors about Orso, but no one would come forward. No one substantiated what we’ d heard. The only way to find the truth was to be in the department.”
“Good timing,” Charla said. “You got to witness Orso’s behavior firsthand.”
“And I had to watch a wonderful person who I already cared for get mauled and mistreated.”
His chest tightened, and anger burst through his belly even now. “I wanted to kill him. I couldn’t imagine. Those things never happened at Metro Media. We were lucky. Or maybe we were just hypervigilant.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then? Once you nailed Orso? Seems like a good time to come clean.”
“Because of you,” Ryan said.
“Me? You needed to keep lying to me?”
“I needed to find a way. I was …” He hit his fist into the sand. What? What was he trying to say? “I … I was scared. Okay? That you wouldn’t want me once you discovered who I was. Charla, you’re the first woman since Paloma, and then when we were together?” He shook his head and looked out toward the ocean. “I’ve never experienced such extreme feelings so fast. The instant connection. You’re like a live wire sparking against my skin. I knew how much you didn’t trust people and that you thought wealthy men had secret agendas, and look at me, I was just that. But my secret agenda was for a good purpose. I wasn’t trying to do anything foul or bad or wrong. I was trying to make Mesquale the best place for every worker on this island. And then I met you.” Ryan looked into her eyes. “I love you.”
The wind whipped off the ocean. The sky remained blue, but the waves crashed harder against the shore. What else could he possibly say? How could he convince her not to leave him?
“Life seemed easier while I was Ryan the bartender. There’s baggage that comes with being Ryan Murphy, the former media mogul and now resort owner. I don’t want secrets or subterfuge. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else. My intentions were good.”
Silence. Silence greeted the end of his words. She stared at the ocean. He didn’t know how long they sat. He’d sit there a lifetime if it meant he could sit beside Charla, if it meant there was even the slimmest chance she would be his. He’d sit on that beach through monsoons and high tides if Charla Duvall would turn to him and tell him that she forgave him.
“I’m not angry with you,” she said in the softest of voices. “I believe you. I believe your intentions were good. I believe you’re telling me the truth … now.”
His heart swelled. He had a chance. She did believe him.
“And I love you too.”
His throat grew tight. Yes, she would be his. She would.
Then she turned to him.
He saw her eyes.
The pain.
The doubt.
The fear.
Ryan Murphy had gambled on love, and he’d lost again.
*
“I’m going back to California,” Charla said. “I’ll inform Mr. Antigua of my decision. I’ll stay there until I decide what I’m doing next.” No tears. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She wouldn’t let herself cry in front of Ryan. This decision to leave was hard enough. Being on the same island as Ryan, working side by side with him as he ran Mesquale, felt impossible and simply too much for her to bear. She couldn’t stay. She didn’t believe she could trust Ryan. Not now and maybe not ever. Not just because he had lied, but also because of who she was.
“I hope you understand. I have to do this.” Her heart ached. She longed for him to tell her not to go. To jump up and stomp his feet and pick her up and carry her to her room and make love to her until she changed her mind and said yes to him that she would stay on the island of Mesquale. Ryan wouldn’t do that though. He respected her, and he’d do as she asked.
“I want you to stay here with me,” he said. “I love you, Charla. I want you here with me.”
She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust his love for her. Didn’t trust that she hadn’t somehow gotten swept up into his agenda to fix Mesquale, and soon he would discover that they didn’t actually fit. That she wouldn’t make a good match for his life. Better to end this now. Better to leave and build her own safe life than to try this with Ryan and end up lied to again and heartbroken.
“I can’t stay.” She pushed her hands into the sand and stood. Ryan stood beside her. Awkward silence surrounded them. They stood close, and desire sparked between them like a flame, but the intimacy they’d shared was now gone. The ability to reach out and touch Ryan, to kiss him when she chose, had disappeared with the words that she was leaving Mesquale.
Then Ryan’s lips were on hers. His arms reached around her, and he pulled her close. This kiss would be seared into her mind for the rest of her life. Passion poured through him. His tongue slipped into her mouth and tangled with her tongue. Her body melded to him, and she felt every ridge of muscle and his hard sex pressed against her. So easy. So right. His arms, his kiss, him. The longing to surrender and walk with him to whatever room was now his tore through her heart.
This would be their last kiss. She pressed into him close and tight. The need pulsed between them. To remember every bit of this kiss, every moment, because she would take this kiss with her forever, knowing that she would never feel this way about another man. How could she? The power of Ryan, the power of their love, the power of them together, could never exist again.