Page 2 of Sapphire Storm

Inthemarble-floored lobby, beneath its three-tiered crystalchandelier, Ethan wound his way through guests departing the breakfast buffet.Families redolent of freshly applied sunscreen made their way toward thehotel’s sparkling pool or the cliff-hugging staircase leading to the resort’slittle crescent of private beach. The brassy, sun-filled energy of SapphireCove’s lobby made for a welcome change of pace from the resorts he’d worked atover the past few years, five-starred affairs where the guests and staff rarelyspoke above an aristocratic whisper.

When his phone vibrated in his pants pocket, he saw thecaller was Donnie Bascombe, the good friend he’d been putting off with curttext messages all morning. Fifteen years of friendship had taught him there wasno deflecting Donnie when he’d scented a bone. Worse, management and staff usedtheir personal cell phones too often for Ethan to silence his during work.

“I told you I’d call you later,” Ethan said by way of answering.

“Which is total BS, so give me the update, dude. Come on.You’ve been on the apps three weeks. You’ve gotta have something cooking.What’s happening with the kid who—”

“Three weeks,” Ethan cut him off, “in whichall ofmy worst suspicions about them have been confirmed.Actually, makethatreconfirmed. They remain asoul-killing place where all other metrics of success fall before the sword ofbody fat percentages, creating a suffocating meat market in which the facts ofwho you are matter far less than how you look in a bathroom mirror.”

“So the Beach Boy kid shot you down?”

Ethan turned to the nearest wall and lowered his voice to anangry whisper. “Try wasted my time. BeachBoy24 and I chatted for a week, andwhen I tried to get him to agree to an actual coffee date, he demanded to see ashirtless selfie. I refused at first, and when I finally caved his responsewas—and I’m quoting now—‘Yikes. No thanks, Gramps.Over and out.’”

After a brief, tense silence, Donnie said, “Well, did youlie about your age?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ethan barked. “I’m one of the onlymen out there whoisn’tlying about his age.” Shooting glances inevery direction to make sure his outburst hadn’t earned him any lingeringstares from guests, Ethan managed a deep breath. “Donnie, you know I love youmore than baked Alaska, but do not—I repeat, donot—pressure me to geton the apps again. This was little more than a degrading exercise that insultedboth my intelligence and my integrity.”

His friend’s exhale whistled through his teeth. “Man, I wishI was a bottom ’causeI’d probably be so turned on byyour anger right now.”

“I’m serious. Stay out of my dating life. Please.”

“You don’thavea dating life, Blake. That was thepoint. I just wanted you to get out of that apartment sometime. All you do iswork.”

“Exactly. I love what I do, and I’ve worked my entire lifeto get to a place where I can do nothing but work.”

“Hey, I love what I do too, but I don’t need to do it allthe time.”

“You make porn. Youcan’tdo it all the time becausehalf of your models don’t show.”

“All right, easy, Chef Boyardee. I’ll have you know ParkerHunter’s one of the most professional studios in the business.”

“Please stop deflecting. I need you to hear me on this. Donot pressure me to get on the apps again. I only did this to shut you up andlook how it played out.”

A chair squeaked on Donnie’s end of the line, probablybecause he’d pushed himself back from his desk so he could make the big handgestures he always did when he was worked up. “Look, I didn’t say anything aboutdating.I said have fun. Do what I do. Book a guest appearance forsome married couple who both want to throw their legs in the air at the sametime. Find a hot little number at the hotel next door and meet him in a publicrestroom or something.”

Ethan groaned. “Because all of that sounds like my style,Sex Monster.”

“Fine. Hook up in your car then. But it’s new, so, you know,be careful of the seats.”

“I’m ten years older than you. I have had my fun. If I’mgoing to spend time on this area of my life, I want it to be for somethingserious. Not deranged role-play with a two-dimensional square on a dating appwho’s probably some broken basement dweller with a row of trophy skulls abovehis desk.”

“All right, well I think you’re giving up too soon. On theapps, not ButtBoy69 or whatever his fake name was.”

Ethan said, “We have exhausted this conversation’spotential. Let us move on now to the subject of my visit this week. Have youdecided where you want me to take you to dinner yet?”

“Someplacereally expensive. Andyou’ll be nicer to me while you’re here, right? ’Cause isn’t the whole point ofthis trip to pay me back for getting you your dream job?”

“You got me a meeting with the hotel’s general manager. Notquite the same thing as getting me the job. But to answer your question, yes,the spirit of the trip will be one of enormous gratitude.”

“Excellent,” Donnie said, tone dripping with self-satisfaction.“’Cause it’s about time.”

“Providedyou leave me alone about dating apps fromnow until the end of humanity.”

“Deal.”

When the call ended, Ethan found himself staring down at hisphone, wondering if he should be more charitable in his description of Donnie’scontributions to his recent career developments.

His good friend was close with Sapphire Cove’s generalmanager and director of security, who were also a happily engaged couple, andso he’d strongly encouraged both men to sample Ethan’s work during a visit toLondon earlier that year, back when he was still working under the executivepastry chef at the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park. There, he’d wowed them with aFrench wedding cake so tall Connor Harcourt and Logan Murdoch had struggled tosee each other over the pyramid of profiteroles he’d proudly set between them.They’d walked away fans, which had nicely set the stage for an interview onceEthan started looking for a new gig back in the US. That the interview wouldalso yield the biggest promotion of Ethan’s career was not something he’d beenexpecting when he first sat down with Connor over Zoom.

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