"Don't give me that shit! The inventory spreadsheet, along with the order list, was on my desk! Including the monthly sales and tax report."

"Ian, I'm telling you, it's not here. I've looked all day and found nothing. I'm at your desk right now, and there are no reports, no spreadsheet, or order list in sight. The shit has vanished."

"Find it. Gene is supposed to be there Monday to pick up the reports," I snapped, scrubbing my face. "If you're at my desk, it should be right in front of you. The reports are in a Manilla folder, labeled, May monthly sales report, and the other shit was beneath it."

"Ian. There is nothing here!" Arnie yelled. "Your desk is cleared off as always."

My eyes closed, I took in a deep breath, then frustratedly exhaled. "The shit was on my desk. I know it was because I had just got done finishing it when Hannah called."

"I'll keep looking, but from what I see, there's nothing."

"What did you do about the ordering?"

"I guessed at what we needed," Arnie admitted. "It's all I could do."

I whipped my pen across the room. "Find out who was in my office. Immediately. Whoever it was, was the one who moved or took it. And once you find out, call me immediately..." I snapped before hanging up, then dropping my cellphone on the desk, not caring if I broke my screen.

I swear heads are going to roll if I have to drive down to the cities tomorrow and gather every fucking employee of mine into the small confined room I've designed specifically for shit such as this. A restricted room to scare whoever fucked with me to admit what they know and to admit the truth.

My office door opened, and in came Hannah, holding a drink for me in her hand. I didn't plan on drinking anything tonight. Still, with the shit that's going on at my nightclub, and seeing Tawny's beautiful fucking body in the band-aid bikini she was wearing, and how she was hanging out with my best bartender Jason, wearing what she was, having a drink right now sounds good.

"How did you know I need this," I asked as Hannah extended her arm over the desk and handing me a tumbler filled with scotch.

"As I've said before, I'm smarter than you, and I'm good at reading minds," she reminded as she sat in the chair, crossing her leg over the other and looking at me as if she were studying me.

"Why are you looking at me that way?"

"You're not supposed to be here. Don't you have shit to take care of down in the cities?"

"I've got Arnie on it."

"Why?"

Hannah better stop asking me questions before I get even more upset.

"Because I have shit to deal with around here," I muttered, taking a long sip of my drink.

Hannah's left brow raised high. "Like what?"

"Stuff," I groaned.

"What kind of stuff?" Hannah pressured, knowing damn well if she continues interrogating me, I'll spill what's on my mind. The thing is, I don't even know why I feel the need to be here. Of course, Hannah has everything under control, just as she always has. But for some strange reason, something is still keeping me here, and it's pissing me off that I can't figure out what that reason is.

I didn't know what to tell Hannah, so I remained tight-lipped, trying to think of what "kinds of stuff" was keeping me still here.

"It has to do with Tawny, doesn't it?" she pushed.

"No," I said, trying to convince her as well as myself that it had nothing to do with Tawny.

Hannah leaned forward, grinning while holding my stare. "You're full of shit, Ian. That's exactly why you're still here. You saw Tawny hanging out with Jason today, and it pissed you off that she was hanging out with him, and not you. I'm right, aren't I?"

I drank the entire contents in my glass in one swallow, then slammed the empty glass down on my desk. "Don't you have something to do rather than sit in here and piss me off with your nonsense?"

Hannah's brows furrowed, drawing to one. "Nonsense? Really, Ian? Did you forget that I'm your sister who, believe it or not, knows you better than our own mother? Admit it, Ian," she hissed, "if Tawny weren't here, you wouldn't still be here. You would have done what you had to do last night and come this morning; you would have been back in Minneapolis. You know damn well that's where you'd be."

I shook my head, disagreeing with her. "You're wrong."

"Am I? For the past four years, I've been running this resort for you. And the only time you stuck around as you are now was the very first year I took over."

"Go find something important to do, like making sure the bar is running smoothly, before I look for someone else to run this place," I demandingly urged.

Hannah evilly glared at me as she gripped the handles of her seat, pushing herself up. "Fine," she growled, "just know that if you continue acting like a nincompoop, I can guarantee you'll find yourself having nobody working for you anymore. You'll be employeeless and managerless, causing you to be doing all of this on your own."

She angrily marched herself to the door, and after opening it, she turned to me, her lips twisting into a mischievous smile. "The bar just so happens to be slow tonight, so, since I have nothing to do, I think I'll sit next to Tawny and enjoy my night by talking with her and having some much-needed drinks... on you, of course." With a shit-eating grin on her face, she raised her hand, then wiggled her fingers in a waving fashion.

Hannah slamming the door behind her instantly triggered some strange and unusual feelings to roam throughout me. And they were feelings I wasn't sure how to comprehend—so many I wasn't sure exactly how to decipher through them all.

I felt confusion, anger, sulky, jealousy, fear, envy, shame, anxiety, guilty, disdain, and believe it or not; there were also tender feelings roaming through my heart. And after Hannah mentioned Tawny was inside the bar, my dick awoke from a deep sleep—alerting me he's desperate. And that he had a desire for some sexual activity to begin.

Sexual fantasies of Tawny and me together had me jumping from my seat. 

What the hell am I thinking? 

There has to be a way to prove sexual frustrations are only causing these thoughts. And that it's due to a lack of having sex. Not because of Tawny. So to figure out why I'm thinking the way I am and to prove those thoughts are because of the lack of sex, I snatched my empty glass off the desk and bolted out of the room, my shoes burning rubber as I hurried my ass down the hallway.

Hannah was right; the bar wasn't as busy as it was the night before. And what I'm about to do next will be totally out of character for me. And that's looking to meet a woman at my workplace. My eyes still scanned the room anyway, looking for that one woman who looked to be single.

A group of girls caught my eye, with one of those women looking interesting enough to talk to, so I headed over to see how they were enjoying their stay.

"Hello, ladies. I hope you're having a wonderful time tonight."

"Hello," a blonde woman said, smiling, and with her elbow on the table, she drunkenly waved her hand. "We're having a great time! Are you?"

"Always," I lied, trying not to look at the bar to see what Tawny's doing.

Remember, Ian. You don't care what she's doing, who's she's with, or who she's talking to. You also need to remember, just because she has a great body, fantastic rack, gorgeous eyes, beautiful sun-kissed colored skin, long killer legs, and a smile that's as clear as a bright blue sky. That doesn't mean you want her. All you care about is getting the money she owes you. My inner voice reminded me.

I caught one of the girls checking out my left hand, then leaned to the girl next to her, covering her mouth and whispering something I wished to hear. Most likely telling her, she sees "no ring."

I covered my left hand with my right, still trying not to be obvious in front of Hannah about why I was talking to these girls. "Are you staying here or visiting someone?" one of the women asked, curiosity in her eyes.

Do I tell her who I am?

Hmm...

I should before Hannah's big mouth walks over and fills them in. "Actually," I started to say, scratching the side of my mouth. "I stay here quite often. As I'm the one who owns the resort."

The mouth of the girl I found attractive dropped open wide. And the funny thing is, I nor my dick wasn't affected by it. Usually, when a woman I like opens her mouth as the woman in front of me is right now, my mind and good ole mister Willie become dirty-minded. But not this time.

My mind is blah. And my dick is yawning.

"No way! You?" the attractive woman shouted.

"Yes, I own the place, and--" I paused and turned, pointing to my sister, who's sitting by herself. "My sister over there runs the place," I enlightened, turning back towards the table of women and feeling confused as to where Tawny was.

"But, anyway, I should get back to work. I just wanted to come over to say hello, to see if you're enjoying your stay, and to make sure you were all having a good time tonight."

"We're having a great time," the cute and very petite redhead cheered. "If you'd like, you're more than welcome to sit here and have a drink with us," she said, just as I got a glimpse out the corner of my eye of a woman dancing with a guy on the dance floor.

My head turned towards the dancing couple, and my eyes started seeing red—literally red.

"I'd love to, but I have work to do still. Thanks anyway," I said, eyeing Tawny as she danced body to body with a guy who's been coming here since he was a kid.

I blinked a couple of times. That can't be her.

It just can't be.

Her eyes caught mine, and my dick twitched.

Yep, it's Tawny.

My eyes took a quick sweep of her entire ensemble and her mind-blowing body. And the dress she's wearing has my eyes locked on her while she walked back towards the bar, all while ignoring me.

A smoking fiery red hot, backless, contrast lace, cut-out sheer cami nightdress—a dress that barely covered her perfectly round and beautiful breasts. Along with her mind-bending red high heels had my close buddy panting, with him also on the verge of howling like a dog, letting Tawny know she looked fucking beautiful.

The guy she danced with followed her to the bar and stood behind her, angering me more after seeing his hands rest on her shoulders, and he began massaging them.

Fucker...

First Jason. Now this guy.

What the fuck? And what the fuck is wrong with me?

I walked over and stood at the other end of the bar, wiggling my finger at Jemma.

"Did you want another drink, boss?"

I pushed my glass towards her. "Yes, please. And after you bring me my drink, I want you to make those three at the other end of the bar some shots."

She turned her head away from me, then snapped her head back my way. "Do you mean for Hannah, Tawny, and Brett? Or—"

"Yes them."

Smiling, she asked. "Okay, what would you like me to make for them?"

I looked at Hannah, then Tawny. "She broke my heart with a bulldozer," I said, grinning wickedly.

Jemma's eyes widened, and then she gagged. "Are you serious? Or are you joking with me? Because those are fucking nasty."

"I know," I chuckled. "And yes, I'm serious... after they take their shots. Send Tawny to my office, please."

"I'll get right on it," Jemma said, her face looking disgusted.

I noticed someone was missing and looked around the bar, then back at Jemma, asking, "Hey, did Jason call it a night?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago or so. Once the bar died down, he had a drink, then said he was going to bed," she said as she handed me my scotch.

"Can I ask how long Tawny's been here?"

Confusion crossed Jemma's face—looking curious as to why I wanted to know. She shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know exactly. Maybe a couple of hours."

Maybe Jason doesn't have a thing for her then. Hmm...

"Thanks. Make sure to send Tawny to my office after she drinks her shot. Thanks."

"What's the occasion for the shots?"

"It's my welcome to the team drink," I winked above my side smirk.

******

My office door opened, and then it slammed, causing my eyes to flicker up and away from the computer.

"What the fuck kind of nasty shot was that?" Tawny yelled. "Really, Ian? A welcome to the team shot called she broke my heart with a bulldozer? Are you fucking insane?"

Amusement rushed through me after seeing her expression of disgust, a look that says she wants to vomit, with another look of wanting to kill me. I chuckled, grinned, and humorously said, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Welcome to the Paradise Inn." I extended my hand to the empty chair. "Please. Sit."

Tawny stomped, wobbling her ankles as she walked in her high heels to the chair. Cleary showing she's feeling no pain. "What did you need that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Hiccup. Hiccup. "Because technically, I didn't have to come back here to see you since I'm off the clock," she reminded, slurring her words as she spoke.

"You're right. You are off the clock," I agreed, "but you're still my employee," I reminded, glaring into her eyes, "and an employee who's drinking, letting loose on her employer's property."

Her arms crossed, covering her breasts. "Yeah, so?"

"So you say?" I mocked. "Since you don't understand why that is. I'll explain. And what it means is that since you're here, drinking alcohol at your place of employment and allowing yourself to get drunk in front of my guests, you still must act appropriately. Meaning, when you're here drinking while representing the company, there are some rules you'll need to follow while doing so."

Tawny's eyes rolled while groaning. "What rules? I'm not aware of any rules that say I cannot drink on my own time..."

Well, there is now...

I picked up my glass, raised it to my lips, then tilted my head back, allowing the smooth tasting scotch to flow down my tongue and into my throat. "Rules..." I said, setting my tumbler down in front of me. She's going to get pissed at what I'm about to say. I just know it. Here it goes... "Rule number one. No walking around the resort in a bikini. Especially the one you were wearing earlier today. That one showed way too much skin, tits, and ass."

A mocking laugh escaped her beautiful plump lips, lined with red-colored lipstick. "Whatever. What's your beef with women wearing a bikini? Are you gay or something? Does it make your dick so hard that you have to go hide somewhere to beat down the swelling?"

I laughed, folding my hands together as they rested on top of the desk. "No. I'm not gay. And I have zero problems with a woman wearing a bikini, or it making me hard. However, I have a problem with an employee walking around practically nude in front of my guests. And the reason is that I don't need an employee coming to me, asking to fill out an incident report—accusing a guest of unwanted advances—as in a guest inappropriately touching them, disrespecting them, or worse, sexually assaulting them."

Pfft... she puffed, her loose hairs hanging over her face blowing upward.

"I'm serious Tawny. I don't need my guests being accused of something you may have brought on yourself by taunting your half-naked body around men. Doing something that can only lead to disaster."

She uncrossed her arms and sat forward, yelling, "Excuse me? Are you trying to say it would be my fault if a guest came on to me?"

"Who else's fault would it be?"

"You're a fucking asshole!"

"So, I've been told. Numerous times by you."

Her brows drew together, and then her eyes formed into daggers. "So what you're saying is that a woman who wears a bikini to stay cool or who wishes to darken their skin is their fault if a sexual assault were to happen? All because a man can't handle the hard-on they get when they see a woman in a bikini? Give me a fucking break! That's low, Ian. Very fucking low."

"I'm not saying that at all. What I'm getting at is, the way you were flaunting your half-naked body around my guests today, it could have ended badly for you—"

"You mean you didn't like me flaunting my body around you." Tawny angrily interrupted. "This is all about you, isn't it?"

"No. I'm only looking out for you."

"Yeah, right," she angrily mocked.

"Anyway, onto the rest of the rules..." I extended my hand to the dress she's wearing. "No wearing shit like that while you're here drinking."

She looked down, then snapped her head up. "Shit like what?" Her hands traveled down and up her body. "This? You mean to tell me that I can't wear a dress?"

I pointed to her dress. "You can't wear dresses like that. Ones where your tits are ready to fall out. So again, it's a disaster waiting to happen..." I leaned back in my chair, rested my elbows on the chair arms, and then entwined my fingers together. "Let's just say this. What if you were to get sloppy drunk, and your tits end up falling out? What would you do then if a man were to grope you?"

"I can't believe this! Do you want me to dress like a fucking nun?"

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," I admitted, grinning.

She leaned forward, daggers shooting from her eyes while pointing her finger repeatedly at me. "Fuck you... I can wear whatever I want! You have no right to say what I wear!"

Oh, yes, I do...

My lips twitched into a devilish smile. "You're here working for me, which means you have to abide by the rules. And what I say goes. Got it?"

"You're a fucking sexist!" she screamed. "So, basically, what you're saying is. It's okay for a man to walk around half-naked, but a woman cannot. Got it..."

"Now you're getting it... and for the record. I'm not a sexist. I'm only looking out for my female employees. That's all," I said, smiling.

Tawny stood fast, nearly tumbling to the ground when she stood. "Screw you, Ian. Your ridiculous demands have everything to do about you and not me. You can't handle being around women! It's no wonder your fiancée left you! You're a heartless, egotistical son of a bitch!"

I remained quiet and smiled the entire time she yelled, allowing her to get everything she needed to say off her chest and hoping my smiling pissed her off. But then again, she also pissed me off—bringing up my ex, and blaming me for my ex's straying ways.

Tawny needs to shut her trap. She doesn't know shit about what happened between Alexandra and me.

"If you think you can boss me around, telling me I can't enjoy myself on my day or night off, and demand that I dress to disguise my curves, then, well, you've got another thing coming," she warned, humoring me, "I'll sue your ass for discrimination. And if for one second you think by controlling me like this is your way of saying I'm still yours, you're dead mistaken. Because I'm not yours, nor will I ever be! You don't own me. I own myself," she huffed.

I stood, pointing my finger at her. "Need I remind you of what I said not too long ago... as of right now; I do own you. You're mine, sugar lips. All mine. And don't forget about how every breath you take, every move you make, I'll be watching you..." I lifted my right hand and swung my two fingers from my eyes to hers. "I'll be watching everything you do. Oh... before I forget. While working behind the bar, there will be no more wearing the shortest shorts you own that reveal your ass cheeks or pussy whenever you're bending over."

Without saying a word, Tawny stormed out of my office. But within seconds of her leaving, she was back. And she came back with a vengeance. She was hot, on fire, and angry as fuck. And the pissed-off look on her face had my dick twitching to beat the band. She looked so fucking sexy mad that my wand of life was more than ready to put it to good use.

That was until Tawny shocked the shit out of me when her left hook came right at me—decking me square in the face. And all hopes of having angry sex with her just went down the tubes.

"You call this resort Paradise Inn because you want everyone to believe they're staying in paradise? Well, I've got a new name for this place, and I hope your guests like it. So instead of being called The Paradise Inn, it'll now be called Welcome To Ian's Hell Inn."

Well, Buddy? It looks like I fucked everything up for us, and it's just you and me tonight.

I hope the chapter was okay!🤞🤞