Axel gently coaxed me off the bathroom floor and onto the couch, which worsened my sobs—it was where we'd just had sex, and it only intensified my trembling, my tormented thoughts.

"But it's better than the bathroom floor, Vivienne," Axel insisted, depositing me on the edge of the sofa, away from the area we'd been awash with desire over and over again. "And unfortunately, you need to regain yourself before we even try to get you out of here."

"Regain myself?" I sniffled, smearing the wetness over my cheeks. "How can I regain myself after all this? My job is to fix all this, to be prepared for any eventuality, and I failed! I should have had proper back-up plans, but you're the one with back-up plans. I was so busy fucking you that I disregarded all my duties. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

I curled into a ball, embarrassed at my crisis in front of Axel, hyperventilating in his overpriced suite in his luxurious hotel during his spoiled sister's wedding weekend.

"Nothing is wrong with you." He dropped beside me, his warmth not settling me down; instead it made me recoil, made me want to be far, far away from him and his appeal.

"I'm going to get fired." I drew my knees to my chest and stuffed my nose between my legs.

Axel arched an eyebrow. "Because of the storm? You had no say in that, come on, now."

"Because of," I pointed at him, at myself, "this. You and me stripping and fucking whenever we're alone. The weather is Karma, don't you get it? Mother nature is punishing me for craving you so much."

Axel chuckled. "You're ridiculous. No one is getting fired, and Karma isn't attacking you. It's bad luck, that's all."

"Bad luck!" I snorted, shaking my head. "One would have thought meeting you would be good luck. Hot and rich as you are—" I gasped, burrowing between my knees. "Jeez, listen to me rambling when I should be brainstorming. The only back-ups I had were vendors and different locations. I never anticipated us all being stuck here."

"Vivienne," Axel touched my arm lightly, "can we really help how attracted we are to each other? Meeting me was good luck; now you have connections. And I'll do everything I can do to save your career, show you in a glowing spotlight, right? I'm the big boss here, remember? I have solutions for us, all the back-up plans we need. And I won't take credit for them."

I looked up and sniffed. "Why not? Why would you care about my career?"

"Because it's not at risk, as you seem to think it is." He tipped my chin towards him. "No one will know about you and I, and I meant that every single time I said it. It's not as big of a deal as you keep making it, I swear."

To me, it was a big deal, and his constant nonchalance about it rubbed me the wrong way. He was filthy rich, his career secured, set in stone for likely the rest of his existence. Me? I had to fight to even have a semblance of a good reputation, and to obtain gigs that would pay my rent and bills.

He doesn't get it and never will.

Not that his comprehension mattered—we weren't together, and never would be. He was the extended one-night stand I'd erroneously given in to, and after this weekend, I'd never see him again.

"As for back-ups," he fetched his phone from where he'd dropped it on the floor, "I'm already on it, okay? The second-floor restaurant is in motion right now, the staff is working on the menu. And if tomorrow is still crappy, we'll use the second-floor ballroom for the ceremony and the reception."

I snickered. "Violet will hate that. I toured that ballroom and it's much smaller."

"Well, she won't have a choice if it's still pouring. She'd hate her wedding dress getting wet even more." Axel stood up, extending his hand to help me up, too. "My staff knows the drill. It never floods here, but they were trained for all circumstances, and I briefed them on measures before you arrived the other day. I told you," he winked as I took his hand, "I'm very hands-on."

Not hands-on with me, he meant; hands-on with his hotel employees.

I flinched. "Are you this way with all your hotels? Visiting them for extended periods of time, overseeing weddings, and—" I caught myself before saying sleeping with the wedding planners. "And being so in control?"

"I can't help it," he said, guiding me towards the bedroom. "I'm a control freak. But it's also how I learned this business. Don't let others do things that you know you can do better."

And there I'd been thinking, at first, that Axel Levine was a bored, rich CEO who sat in his fancy chair and pointed fingers and assigned all the tasks he didn't want. But in truth, he was a professional, a perfectionist who preferred to be involved in everything, to ensure the pristine reputation of his brand. I'd worried he was a hot but lazy, entitled man who spent his money without batting a lash, but in the past twenty-four hours, I'd been proven wrong, time after time.

Axel Levine cared. He'd earned his position, his title, every cent. Born into the business, yes; but he'd worked to keep it afloat and thriving.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot. "How about you get dressed and go update Violet? I'm sure you heard her panicking about not knowing where you were. I can tell her how things will go until I'm blue in the face, but you're her planner. You need to tell her."

I swallowed, sighting my bag behind the couch. "I didn't bring anything appropriate to run around the hotel in."

"What did you bring?" Axel squinted at me.

"Rehearsal dinner outfit and my suit for tomorrow." I glanced down, biting my lip. "I was freaking out, and my mind went blank. I barely even grabbed shoes and deodorant."

"Hm, okay." Scratching at his scruff, Axel meandered into the bedroom where he opened a few drawers, then gestured at me to join him. "I don't have much that'll fit you except for...this." He thrust a pair of sweats into my arms, along with a baggy t-shirt with the hotel's logo on it. "Throw those on, and go talk to Violet while I make some calls and verify that my—ahem, your back-up plans are in motion."

I obliged, my stomach swarming with butterflies that I didn't want there and didn't understand.

***

Geared up in Axel's old Villa des Tropiques stamped sweats and my still damp sandals, I pried the room door open, peeking out and checking the horizon before exiting. Axel had assured me the coast was clear, by verifying the security cameras on his phone—no guests were loitering on the third floor, so I was free to make a run for it.

I armed myself with a borrowed clipboard and a mechanical pencil, and snuck across the vast third-floor landing, hurrying towards Violet's suite.

I was blocked by a door swinging open to my right. Loud cackles and clinks of glasses filtered out into the hallway, and Chi appeared from behind that door, holding an empty, silver ice bucket.

I paused, folding my arms, raising my eyebrows. "Well, hello there," I said, eyeing my assistant as they stilled in surprise at the sight of me.

"Vivi." Their louder, higher-pitched-than-normal voice drew the attention of others in the room—the bridesmaids. "Where have you been?"

I shook my head, dismissing the question. I peered into the space as the women crowded behind Chi, staring at me from head to toe—judging my sweatsuit, I presumed—and lifting their noses.

"What have you been up to?" I ignored the giggling, teenager-behaving bridesmaids and focused on Chi. They were barefoot, their shirt open to reveal a neon pink tank top. The sway in their gait, the looseness of their stance, indicated to me that they'd been drinking.

"Uh, not much," Chi said, smirking. "Having a few drinks, toasting to the bullshit, passing the time, you know."

I grabbed their arm and yanked them away from the obnoxious women, farther into the hallway.

"What the fuck is going on?" I whispered, my voice scratchy in my throat. "Why are you all in there boozing? Was that shit stolen from the kitchens? The bride is hyperventilating over the risk of her wedding being canceled, and this is what you're all doing?"

Chi's jaw dropped. "You weren't with her either, might I remind you." They clutched the bucket tight to their chest. "I was doing my job; keeping the guests happy."

"Keeping yourself happy," I snapped, glaring at them. "I realize we were all locked in for a little while, but the doors have been unlocked for almost an hour. Instead of getting drunk, they should have been checking in on Violet. Especially," I further lowered my voice, "Maisie. She's the maid of honor, goddammit. I may be the wedding planner, but it's her duty to be there for her supposed best friend. What the hell is up with these people?"

Chi shrugged. "They're not as bad as we thought." They leaned in close. "A little booze goes a long way."

"Great." My nostrils flared at the odor of liquor swirling from Chi's breath. "Then you tell them they suck and need to think about why they accepted to be bridesmaids if they don't give a shit about the bride."

Suddenly taking note of my attire, Chi distanced themself, squinting at the sweats, the sandals, then tutting. "The fuck happened to you?"

I rolled my shoulders and raised my chin. "I got drenched and forgot to grab a proper change of clothes."

"And who," Chi approached again, lowering their volume, "let you borrow this shit?" They grabbed my chin before I could look away. "In other words: where have you been sheltering?"

I sucked in my lips and closed my eyes. Chi already knew of the tension between Axel and I, already knew of our forbidden sex. But they didn't know it'd happened again and that I was almost considering making it a regular thing for the entire trip.

"You know exactly where," I muttered, glancing down at my clipboard, where I'd jotted quick notes of what to tell Violet. "We came up with back-up plans, so inform the bridesmaids that everything will be happening on the second-floor tonight, and possibly tomorrow, too."

"Ahhhh." Chi wriggled their eyebrows, grinning at me.

I shoved a finger right into their torso. "Don't you dare react in any way that'll out us, Chi. If anyone asks, I'm with some random guests on the second-floor."

Chi planted a kiss on my cheek and sauntered off towards the ice machine. "Cross my heart and hope to die. I won't tell a soul."

I trusted them; it was the curious ladies from the nearby hotel room I didn't like the looks of.

A few doors down, I found Violet's suite and knocked. Not seconds later, the bride yanked the door open and without even being sure of who was standing there, hauled me into the room, and slammed the door shut.

"Where have you been?" Violet set her hands on her hips, her slightly see-through dress showing a vivid orange bikini beneath it.

"Checking in on the situation," I lied, wanting to bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from screaming. "And then I realized I was still soaked and needed a change of clothes, so I had to hunt down something to wear. I'm," I snarled at my own outfit, "sorry for my presentation."

"Interesting choice," said Estelle, who happened to be in the room, hiding behind a corner. She emerged, zoning in on my unfortunate ensemble. She held a canned beer, and her jean overalls bore a bit too much side-breast for me.

My imagination took off at full speed, unwillingly picturing what exactly was under those overalls—Estelle wore no bra or tank top to cover up—when Mollie appeared, offering a polite smile that instantly stopped my naughty thoughts.

What is it with this Levine family and my ridiculous attraction to their bodies?

"Anyway, the dinner will go on as planned, in the second-floor restaurant. Last I checked with Ax—Mr. Levine," I gulped, "the menu will remain the same. The space is slightly narrower, but he assured me it'd work out fine."

"And tomorrow?" Violet's irritation turned to pleading, her skin paling, her light eyes wide like a sad puppy dog's.

I winced. "That'll be up to the weather. Mr. Levine doubts things will clear up in time for your beach-adjacent ceremony, but the upstairs ballroom can accommodate all events well enough."

I gritted my teeth, waiting for the backlash, for the screaming fit—but thankfully, it didn't come.

"Thank you," said Violet, dramatically dropping onto a divan, fanning herself. "All I needed was everyone to be on the same page."

I avoided rolling my eyes—everyone was on the same page, but Violet was too busy throwing tantrums to pay attention.

As Violet took deep, soothing breaths, Estelle guided me out the room, pausing at the threshold to once more scrutinize what I was wearing. "Haven't seen these sweats in a while," she said, keeping her tone leveled, tipping her beer can in my direction. "If you see my brother, tell him Violet will be fine. I gave her some," she pinched her lips to hold in a giggle, "weed. Should kick in any minute now."

Though disturbed by Estelle's weirdness towards my sweats, I was grateful Violet was in good hands, and made my sneaky way back to Axel's room.

I drummed my knuckles to the door, and Axel let me in immediately. "All good?"

I escaped my sandals and put the clipboard on the mantle. "Estelle gave Violet weed, the bridesmaids and my assistant are getting drunk, and everyone knows about the plans."

Axel chortled. "Violet is terrible with weed." He'd put some clothes on—a dress shirt and some boxers, and calf-length black socks—and had set up an array of ties and bow-ties on the couch, deciding which to wear.

"These things," I tugged on the sweats, "are they yours? As in, only yours? A style that only you have?"

He cocked his head. "Why do you ask?"

I wasn't sure whether to tell him Estelle had been suspicious, as if wearing the baggy outfit was some secret signal that I had access to Axel's private stash of clothes. And that would mean I was sleeping with Axel.

"They're old, but not an exclusive pair, no. Our front desk used to sell them, but it's been years since they stopped." He spun from me, returning to his tie dilemma. "Anyway, the restaurant is being rearranged for tonight. I've sent staff to search the upper floor storage rooms for anything we might need. Everything is taken care of, so you could start getting ready, if you'd like." He motioned at my bag, that he'd deposited on a settee. "You deserve a break, and time to make yourself look beautiful."

"I'm the wedding planner," I said, snagging my bag. "I'm supposed to blend in, not stand out."

"I'm paying you," Axel reminded, picking up a red tie and stretching it. "And I'd like you to look beautiful."

Cheeks reddening, I hurried into the bathroom to change—and to keep far from Axel and his compliments that woke those damn butterflies in her belly.

☼☼☼