Sex on the Beach by Melanie Shawn

Author:Melanie Shawn [Shawn, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Red Hot Reads Publishing
Published: 2020-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Isabella

I shut off the hot water spray and felt a twinge of discomfort as I reached for the towel, just out of reach on the counter. My body ached in places I didn’t know it could ache. But since my discomfort was the consequence of two of the best nights of my life, I wasn’t complaining.

The terrycloth brushed against my fingertips as I heard my phone vibrate from the bedroom. My foot almost slid out from beneath me as I scrambled to answer the call. Excitement filled me as I rushed into the next room. For some inexplicable reason I was sure that it was Jimmy.

When I saw the name that appeared on my screen, a cold bucket of ice water was dumped over my enthusiasm.

For a moment I thought it must be a mistake. My father was calling me. Not one of his three assistants. It was the man himself. His private number. The one that I was told to only use in life or death emergencies. The one that I’d never seen appear on my screen.

My stomach rumbled and it had nothing to do with the three cinnamon rolls I’d scarfed down this morning. I always got nervous when I had interactions with my father. I knew that might not be how other people responded when they spoke to their parents, but to be fair, other people didn’t have Miles Santini as a father.

Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and pressed the green answer icon. “Hello.”

“What are you doing in Georgia?”

I blinked at his harsh tone. He was displeased with me; his inflection left no room for interpretation on that point. I’d never gone anywhere without telling him before, so I assumed his irritation must be due to that.

“I’m visiting Mrs. B. She was my nanny before mom died.”

There was silence over the phone. My knee-jerk reaction was to fill the silence by explaining myself. But I was done worrying about making sure other people were comfortable. I’d done that all my life and it was exhausting. My father called me. If he had something to say, then he needed to say it. If not, he could hang up.

After at least a full minute, which felt longer than I would’ve thought, he spoke. “When will you be home?”

“I don’t know. I have twelve weeks of vacation time.”

The only reason I had three months of vacation time and not nine months was because I’d lost the rest due to our rollover policy. I’d been working for my father since I was eighteen. I’d worked for him while I attended college since ninety percent of my classes were online. It wasn’t by choice. My preference would’ve been to go to school fulltime, but he’d refused to pay for my education unless I did things his way.

Not that I didn’t appreciate not having student loans, but I was just tired of doing things his way.

And my new independence wasn’t about the money I’d inherited. It had never been about the money.

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