MVP (VIP Book 3) (18 page)

I could see the pain in his eyes. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but he was offending me by making me feel like I didn’t know what I was talking about. I would fuck with guys like Devon because I could and then laugh about it when I was done. It was a game. He was an easy target, plain and simple.

His eyes glazed over and his demeanor changed. It felt as though he had been thinking about VIP all night, like it plagued him.

Now…who’s the one who’s not being honest…

He urgently grabbed my wrists and held them firmly above my head, caging me in. He wanted me to feel like he was in control and I gladly gave it to him. The truth was, he was. He always is. He had no idea how much control he had over me. And for a woman like me…it was everything. It was more than just my heart and soul. See…control and power were my heart and soul. It is who I am and he owned it now.

I gave it to him the second I told him my name.

He had to know that, right?

“Is that how you saw me? Was I a game?”

It came out as a question, but it was more like an accusation.

What is going on in your head? What are you thinking?

“No, Sebastian, you were different,” I simply stated. “I didn’t understand you from day one. I never had anyone look at me the way you do, I still don’t.”

His other hand grazed my throat. “How do I look at you?” he inquired with an intense stare.

“Like I’m you’re everything. Like you would die for me. Like I belong to you.”

“Do you?”

I didn’t falter. “Wholeheartedly. I’m yours. I have been since the minute I fell into your arms. Here’s what you don’t understand, I will always be a VIP, except it’s for one person now. YOU. A leopard can’t change its spots, but they can adapt. I pretended to be whatever was requested. I’ve never pretended with you. I’ve never wanted to and that’s what makes you different.” I paused to let my words sink in.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

The penetrating gaze subsided and the storm was gone.

For now…

We woke up early the next morning to go look at a 40ft Cabo Open Bridge fishing boat. It had a front room master bedroom with bath and a spacious living space. The deck was made out of dark teak with two leather fighting chairs stationed side-by-side. All the fishing equipment came with the purchase and there wasn’t anything that needed to be added or done.

“I’ll take it,” I said to the dealer.

“Awesome, let me write her up for you.”

“Do you guys do lettering here?”

“Absolutely, what would you like to name it?”

Ysabelle raised her hand in the air. “I have a name.”

“What?” I asked.

She smiled. “Keeping Her Wet.”

I shook my head and we both laughed. “You heard the lady.”

“Perfect. It will be done by this evening and she will be sailed over first thing tomorrow morning. She should arrive in two to three days, give or take.”

Ysabelle needed to get back to the bar, and although her GM said everything was fine, she was itching to get back. So we decided to have someone else sail her back.

We landed on the island mid-afternoon. She spent most of the day looking over receipts, payroll, and getting everything in order for the holiday season that started in a few weeks. The high time for tourism was October through May, but November through the end of January she was slam packed. The snowbirds wanted to leave the cold and people overseas took holidays for a month due to their employment being closed.

To keep the crowd coming in daily, she set up different themes each day; sink or swim, two for one, happy hour, etc. The girl knew how to throw a good time, that was for sure. The waitresses dressed in bikinis and performed dances on the bar at different times of the day. They’d throw confetti in the air and really get the crowd going. It was like an all day party and that’s what vacationers wanted.

“You about done, Ysa?”

“Yeah, just trying to work out the profit from the substance sales.”

“What’s that?”

“The drug sales.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I roared.

She peeked up from her paperwork, surprised by my drastic change in tone. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re selling drugs here?”

“No, I mean not really. I barely make any profit off it. Why are you looking at me like that?”

My eyes widened. “Ysabelle, please tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t true.”

“Why?” I demanded, trying to keep my temper at bay.

“Why what?”

“Your bar brings in a crazy amount of revenue as it is. Why the fuck would you involve yourself in that?”

“I don’t, I don’t supply it. I don’t look for it. I’m the middleman. I have nothing to do with it, other than letting the one guy come around and see if anyone wants anything.”

I couldn’t believe what she was saying. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“It’s mostly just weed and shit.” She dropped her pen on the desk in a frustrated gesture. “Come on, Sebastian, don’t look at me like that. People on vacation want to have a good time. The crowds I bring in are looking to let go and just have fun. Marijuana is legal for recreational use in two states, it’s only a matter of time till it’s legal everywhere else. Don’t be so straight-laced.”

“Is that all your selling?”

“I’m. Not. Selling. It.”

“What if he asks the wrong person, huh?”

“Seriously…these guys know what they’re doing. They make a living off it, long before I even arrived. This isn’t the States. This is an island where the government makes money off tourism. They get caught, they pay them off. Nothing is tied back to me. End of story.”

“I don’t want you to do it anymore,” I demanded.

She cocked her head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious, Ysa, it ends.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember asking you for permission to run MY business. I know what I’m doing and I don’t need your input.”

I placed my hands on the edge of her desk, hovering over her and she didn’t cower down. Not that I expected her to.

“Is that all you sell?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Ysa. Is that all you sell?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. Sometimes they buy blow and molly…very rarely, though.”

“And you think that’s okay?”

“I don’t think anything. It’s not my business to care about what other people want to do on their vacation. I supply a good time.” She pointed to herself. “That’s my job. I’m not backing down from this, Sebastian. There are a lot of things I’ll give you and meet you halfway on, but this is not one of them. I’m a businesswoman, and if there’s a demand, then I supply. Trust me…I’m not the only bar or even restaurant on this island, or any other island for that matter, doing the same thing.”

I backed away and left, slamming the door behind me.

For the first time since I met her…

She reminded me of The Madam.

It was late by the time I made my way upstairs. I was exhausted from looking at numbers and getting everything ready for the chaos of the tourist season. I tried not to think about the shit show that awaited me when I walked in. The place was quiet other than the dim lighting that came from the TV in our bedroom. There was a plate of food on the dining table with a paper towel placed over it. I picked at the plantains and some of the vegetables and then threw the rest out. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I hated fighting with Sebastian and I knew that was the cause of not wanting to eat.

I contemplated what he would say to me when I walked into the bedroom, and part of me wanted to sleep on the couch or in the guest bedroom just to avoid it. I figured that would only be adding fuel to the already lit fire and piss him off more.

I understood where he was coming from, however, that’s how I had done things since the beginning. He couldn’t come into my life, expecting me to change everything about how I ran things. That’s not fair. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, it was a stupid argument and I should have just kept my mouth shut. I definitely didn’t expect him to react like he had; I mean, he had done molly with me. People are allowed to make their own choices in life and I’m not responsible for that. He was blowing it way out of proportion.

I rubbed at my temples from the migraine that was lurking. I took a deep breath and made my way into the bedroom. He was lying with his arm behind his head, watching TV; the sheet was low on his waist and his toned core was showing with his muscular arms on display. I wondered if he had done that on purpose and tried to hide my smile.

“Care to share what you’re thinking, Ysa?”

I frowned. “Not thinking anything, just admiring the view,” I teased to no avail. “Oh, come on, Sebastian, this is such a stupid argument. Why don’t you trust me? I know what I’m doing.”

He lowered the volume on the TV and sat up. “This has nothing to do with not trusting you.”

“Then what is it?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I could sense that this was much deeper than what I originally thought.

“It’s not the drugs, Ysa. It’s your demeanor about it.”

“I’m not following.”

He sighed. “I understand that you know what you’re doing. Trust me…I know more than anyone that you are capable of doing anything you set your mind to. What I don’t like is your blatant disregard for doing something dangerous or something that could possibly get you into trouble. You don’t fear anything and that’s what scares me.”

My eyes widened and my mouth dropped. I didn’t expect him to say that to me. I had no idea how to even respond to that.

“You’re one hell of a woman and sometimes I worry that you don’t know right from wrong.”

“Jesus, Sebastian,” I gasped and reacted. “You want to talk about right from wrong? Right is not cheating on your fucking wife, right is not fucking me and going home to her, right is not stringing me along, right is not having me as your whore, right is not breaking my fucking heart and making me crawl to pick up the pieces.”

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. He didn’t move, his face remained neutral with no emotion at all and I started to wonder if he had heard what I so viciously spewed. I didn’t know where it came from, it just came out.