Page 4 of Sapphire Storm

Ethan laughed. “Mine is a business of big egos, for sure.But trust me when I say I’d never act in an intemperate manner in anyprofessional situation. Much less around an event of this importance. And withthis many strong personalities already in play.”

Beaming with gratitude, Connor bowed his head in silentthanks.

“Good,” Jonas said, “because we think the guy’s sleepingwith Diana Peyton.”

Connor raised one hand at his events director. “Jonas, comeon now. We don’t know that for sure.”

Eyes locked on Ethan, Jonas said, “Roman Walker is hot as adesert wildfire. Almost eight hundred thousand Instagram followers and over amillion on TikTok, with views through the roof. And apparently he lives in herbig mansion down in Laguna, the Castle by the Sea. I had the concierge makesome calls around town, and it seems thistrainerdrives everywhere ina four-door Bentley that’s the cost of a house in any state that’s not California.Make of that information what you will, but my verdict is boy toy.”

“I see,” Ethan said, trying to contain his laughter. “And wouldhis social media profiles be what you gentlemen were looking at on the computerwhen I came in?”

Jonas and Connor both bowed their heads and then muttered,“Yes” in unison.

There was a brief silence before Jonas popped open thelaptop again. Connor and Ethan both sprang behind his desk like horny teenagers.

He wanted to be unimpressed by what he saw. In Ethan’sopinion, most people mistook the genetic advantages of youth for physicalbeauty. Baby smooth skin, bodies kept slender by youthful, humming metabolisms—thesewere not the same things as a facial structure that looked composed by the godsor a V-shaped torso that suggested hours of strenuous gym time. Roman Walkerhadboth of thesethings.

Composed by the gods. It was a perfect description of the imagesJonas was scrolling through.

At first Ethan blamed the preponderance of Speedo-encasedbutt shots for the electric tension in the sides of his neck. He was a hopelessass man and always had been. And while he figured they were being treated to afair amount of Facetune and Photoshop, what leapt out from the screen wasflawless skin and perfectly proportioned muscles and penetrating hazel eyesthat looked incapable of hiding emotion. The young man had to be about six footthree, olive skinned, his black hair styled in a long, layered fringe with alow fade that highlighted his muscular neck. In many of the images, the socialmedia star and trainer to one of the most famous actresses in the world flasheda perfect smile that could have sold everything from tooth whitener to carinsurance.

“Well,” Connor finally said, “at least he’ll be something tolook at if he turns out to be a condescending poseur.”

Before he could memorize the image of Roman Walker gazinginto the cameras as shower water sluiced down the back of his neck and acrosshis perfect chest, Ethan walked out from behind Jonas’s desk.

“Gentlemen,” he said firmly, standing at attention, “restassured, I will handle this meeting with absolute professionalism. And I mustsay I appreciate your cautions here. Truly. But I suffered the mean streets ofNew York City with barely a penny to my name without ever losing my cool, andmy reward is that today I’m senior staff at one of thefinestand mostwell-run resorts on the face of this great planet where I’m honored to spend mydays working alongside extraordinary men like the two of you.” Connor blushed.Jonas nodded deeply and smiled. “In other words, I can handle some arrogantlittlefitfluencerwho thinks he’s hot shit ’causehe’s got a rich sugar momma.”

“All right,” Connor said. “If you charm Roman Walker the wayyou charm everyone else, things should be okay.”

Ethan rose, gave them both a deep bow, then headed for thedoor, a skip in his step. Maybe it was the scandals the hotel had survived, or maybeit was the fact that queer men occupied positions of power throughout theresort, but there was a sense of camaraderie at Sapphire Cove that hadn’texisted in any of his other places of employment. He’d had mentors during hiscareer, but those relationships were usually one-on-one, little islands ofrefuge in environments of relentless competition and stress.

At Sapphire Cove, it felt like everyone had his back. Arefreshing change of pace.

3

At 7:30 p.m. on the dot, Ethan knocked on thedoor to Sapphire Cove’s penthouse suite.

“It’s open,” boomed a youthful voice in response.

Ethan entered.

On the other side of a black lacquer dining table, RomanWalker turned from the open deck door. In response to Ethan’s solicitous smile,he raised one dark eyebrow and wet his full lips with the tip of his tongue.

Night was minutes away from taking hold of the horizonoutside, and the two-room suite was filled with pillar candles inside cylindervases. In their flickering light, the cake slices spread across the table onbone china plates looked like they were melting.

When the young man took a step away from the taffeta drapefluttering in the ocean breezes, the light from the chandelier over the diningtable revealed subtle gold highlights in his brushed-forward hair that matchedthe stud in his left ear. The thick choker around his throat looked like abronzed collection of little finger bones.

He wore some designer’s lusty take on a varsity letterman’sjacket, snugger than any high school would allow. Despite its shiny leather,the black and white team number patches on the sleeves triggered years offrustrated adolescent fantasies Ethan had cultivated while repressing hissexuality at a conservative Southern high school where football was king. Hisblack jeans looked poured on, and Ethan knew if he let his eyes drop below theguy’s waistline, he’d encounter a well-highlighted bulge. But when he stoppedhimself short, he ended up staring at a band of flat, tan stomach visible abovethe man’s shining belt buckle. He was either shirtless underneath the jacket orwearing a midriff shirt.

There was one other fact about the scene before him that wasfar more significant than the details of his body—Roman Walker was alone.

No sign of the wedding planner Ethan had met with severaltimes; no gaggle of friends and assorted hangers-on whose presence would justifythe champagne bucket at one end of the dining table.

A champagne bucket accompanied by two flutes.

Danger, Will Robinson,Ethan thought instantly.

There had been a time in his life when he’d regularly enteredhotel rooms with strange—sometimes threatening—men, and it had left him with aset of spidey senses for the presence of an agenda that went beyond even thecautions his boss and supervisor had given him earlier that day. He sensed onenow, straightened, and left the door open behind him as he entered the room.

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