WRECKAGES AND ROSES

Collision Course

Sloane's POV

Three weeks into my new position and I had barely slept. The resort's problems ran deeper than I expected. The kitchen equipment was ancient, the booking system was a disaster, and the previous manager had apparently never heard of quality control. I spent my days putting out fires and my nights reorganizing systems, surviving on coffee and stubborn determination.

The staff warmed me slowly, learned their names and listened to their complaints and actually fixed things when they reported problems, which seemed to shock everyone. Maria from housekeeping started smiling when she saw me. Danny from maintenance stopped looking nervous every time I approached. Even the head chef, a grumpy man named Antoine, grudgingly admitted that my new ordering system made his life easier.

Julian had not returned to the island since my first day. He called twice a week for updates and I kept my reports brief and professional. His voice on the phone did strange things to my concentration, all dark and smooth, and I told myself I was being ridiculous. He was my boss and I was damaged goods and the last thing I needed was to develop some pathetic crush on a man who probably did not remember what I looked like.

I was in the resort kitchen arguing with a supplier over the phone when the room suddenly went quiet. I turned around and Julian stood in the doorway, watching me with that unreadable expression I remembered. My mouth went dry. He wore dark jeans and a gray shirt and looked completely out of place among the industrial stoves and prep tables, too polished and powerful for the chaos of a working kitchen.

"I will call you back," I told the supplier and hung up. "Mr. Hargrave. I did not know you were coming."

"I prefer surprise inspections." He stepped further into the kitchen and nodded to Antoine, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "How are things progressing, Miss Carter?"

I grabbed my tablet and started walking, knowing he would follow. Better to give him a tour than stand there staring at him like an i***t. "Guest satisfaction is up twelve percent in three weeks. I have renegotiated contracts with our major suppliers and implemented new training protocols for the front desk staff. The pool repairs will be completed by Friday."

We walked through the resort and I showed him everything I had changed, aware of his presence beside me like heat from a flame. He asked sharp questions and I answered them, falling into the rhythm of talking about work. This I could do. This was safe.

We ended up on the beach as the sun began to set and Julian surprised me by sitting down on the sand, gesturing for me to join him. I hesitated before lowering myself beside him, keeping a careful distance between us. The beach was empty except for us and the moment felt oddly intimate in a way that made my pulse jump.

"You have done excellent work," Julian said, staring out at the water. "The resort feels different already."

"Thank you." I hugged my knees to my chest. "There is still a long way to go but we are making progress."

He turned to look at me and the intensity in his gaze stole my breath. "Why did you take this job, Miss Carter? You could have left the industry entirely and started over somewhere your past would not follow you."

The question hit too close to painful truths. "Because I love this work and I was not going to let Marcus take that from me too. He took everything else."

"Not everything," Julian said quietly. "He did not take your talent or your strength."

The kindness in his voice cracked something inside me. Tears burned my eyes and I blinked them back furiously because I would not fall apart in front of my boss. "I should get back. There is a staff meeting at seven."

I started to stand but Julian caught my wrist, his fingers warm against my skin. "Sloane."

He had never used my first name before and hearing it in his deep voice did something dangerous to my defenses. I looked down at him and saw conflict in his expression, as though he was fighting some internal battle. His thumb brushed across my pulse point and my heart stuttered.

"I want you to know," he said slowly, "that I see you. Not your past or the rumors. You."

I pulled my hand away because if I did not, I would do something stupid like lean down and kiss him. "Mr. Hargrave—"

"Julian."

"Julian," I corrected, and the name felt too intimate on my tongue. "This cannot happen. You are my boss and I am trying to rebuild my life and I cannot afford any complications."

"I know." He stood, brushing sand from his jeans. "You are right. Forgive me."

He walked away before I could respond, leaving me alone on the beach with my heart racing and my carefully constructed walls crumbling. I wrapped my arms around myself and watched the sun sink below the horizon, terrified because I recognized the feeling building in my chest. I had felt it once before with Marcus, this dangerous hope that maybe someone could see past my flaws and want me anyway.

I had been catastrophically wrong then and I could not survive being wrong again. But as I finally walked back to my cottage in the dark, I could not stop replaying the way Julian had said my name or the conflict I had seen in his eyes, as though he was fighting the same impossible pull that I felt.