Play Date by EmKay Connor

Author:EmKay Connor [Connor, EmKay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EmKay Connor

4

Keene was not prepared for a two-hour drive to an unknown destination. When Sabrina said executive team building retreat, he assumed the location would be L.A., not Santa Barbara. As much as he’d enjoyed the scenic drive—indigo ocean to the west and dusty Santa Ynez mountains to the east—the unanticipated trip left him feeling unsettled.

He should have asked for more details.

Not that he wanted to micromanage his EA, but the incident drove home a fact he’d been unaware of.

He was giving away his power. He was losing control.

He’d begun entrusting an employee—albeit a highly capable and extremely competent employee—with the authority to make decisions that could wreak havoc with his carefully ordered life.

Not knowing what to expect was a form of ambiguity, and Keene did not like being out of the loop.

As the driver eased the Lexus SUV under the portico of a Spanish Mission style resort with a brick-red terracotta roof, he tried Sabrina’s number. Again. He’d been dialing every ten minutes for the past hour.

An odd emotion weighed heavy in his chest. It wasn’t anger or frustration or annoyance but something more elusive. It was better to not examine it too closely because there was something familiar about it. The sensation was akin to recognizing a face but not remembering the person’s name. Or catching wind of a scent that triggers part of a memory but not the full context.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Keene scanned the building and grounds. There were no signs, nothing to identify where he was being dropped off. It had to be a resort or maybe a country club.

“Yes, sir,” said the driver as he hopped out to open the back door “They are expecting you. Just check in with Elena.”

Eager for answers and anxious to locate Sabrina, Keene strode into the building. He looked around, expecting to see other members of his executive management team. He noted bright white walls, heavy wooden timbers supporting a peaked wooden ceiling above a tile floor the same burnt-orange as the terracotta roof—classic Spanish Mission architecture. Across the spacious lobby, a young woman in a flattering pantsuit with dark hair and a wide smile waited for him to approach.

“Good morning, Mr. Wesley.” A lyrical accent confirmed her Hispanic ethnicity. A small gold nametag identified her as Elena Sanchez.

“Hello, Elena. I’m supposed to meet my assistant, Sabrina Davenport. Can you tell me where she is? And have the rest of my staff members arrived yet?”

The woman’s brows dipped in confusion before the friendly smile returned. “I’m not sure about the others, but Miss Davenport checked in about thirty minutes ago.

Checked in? How long was this retreat scheduled to last? Keene wasn’t a tightwad, but corporate events didn’t usually include extended stays at resorts so exclusive they didn’t bother with signage.

What was going on? What was Sabrina up to? His fingers curled into loose fists and he forced himself to relax. He’d have answers soon enough.

Elena handed him a plain white keycard. “You’re in the Azul Bungalow.

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