Can't Stop the Feeling (Whispering Bay Romance 6)

It’s like they’re People magazine’s new answer to Brad and Angelina.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s totally doing her. Look at the way she looks at him in this picture.” Pilar pointed to an image of Tiffany looking up adoringly at Ben. “She is one smitten kitten. So does any of this ring a bell?” she asked Jenna. “Is this the Ben Harrison you knew in college?”

“It certainly appears to be him,” Jenna admitted.

“That’s great!” Pilar said. “Maybe we can use this to our advantage.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I barely remember him and I’m sure he wouldn’t remember me at all, so I don’t really see how this can help us.”

“Oh.” Pilar went back to looking at the pictures.

“Too bad,” Mimi said, joining her.

As she watched the two other women gawking at the computer screen, Jenna couldn’t help but feel guilty, because of course, it was all a big lie.

You forgot what you ate for breakfast last week.

You forgot the name of the kid who sat behind you in third grade.

But you never forgot the first person you fell in love with.

As for him not remembering her? That part wasn’t a lie at all. Because the morning after she’d given him her virginity, Ben Harrison had already forgotten all about her.

Chapter Two

Ben Harrison drove his Mercedes up and down the streets of Whispering Bay, both acclimating himself to his new temporary home and in serious search of caffeine. The little Florida beach town was quiet and picturesque, a complete one-eighty from the dump fifty miles north of here that Ben had called home while growing up. Hopalinka, Florida, population 362, was comprised of a couple of trailer parks, a diner, and a Stop and Go grocery and gas station that only stayed afloat thanks to a nearby lumberyard.

Once, as a kid, Ben had attended the annual Whispering Bay Spring into Summer festival. As a ten-year-old living in a dilapidated double-wide with a single mom on food stamps, the festival, with its bright lights, music, and abundant food trucks, had seemed like something out of a fantasy.

“Where can a guy get a decent cup of coffee in this town?” Ben asked his assistant, Gavin, through the car’s speakerphone.

“I don’t see a Starbucks in your area for almost twenty miles, sir,” said Gavin from his desk at the Miami office. “But there’s a place called The Bistro by the Beach and according to Yelp, it’s very popular.”

Gavin gave him directions, then cleared his throat the way he did whenever he got nervous. “So, sir, I know this is none of my business, but just how long do you plan to be up there, wherever it is you are?” Gavin thought that anyplace outside of south Florida was the sticks.

“As long as it takes.”

“Right! Didn’t mean to pry into your personal affairs. Not that I’m implying that you’re having an affair. I…just um, need to update your calendar. Sir.”

Ben could practically feel Gavin sweating through the phone line. Gavin Porter was twenty-five and had recently graduated with his M.B.A. He was also Ben’s third assistant this year. Joan, his legal secretary, handled all the work for his Martinez and Martinez clients, but Gavin was on Ben’s personal payroll. He took care of everything Ben didn’t have time for—from financial spreadsheets on his latest business acquisition to picking up the dry cleaning.

Joan had urged Ben to be “gentler” with Gavin than he’d been with his previous assistants. Ben was never anything but professional, but he didn’t have time to babysit anyone. He was direct and he expected anyone who worked for him to be the same.

Still, he liked the kid. He was smart and a hard worker. He’d hate to lose him this early in the game, so he tried to take some of the gruff out of his voice. “Let’s assume I’ll be here for at least two weeks. A month, tops. Is everything set for the house?”

“Roger that, sir. I got in contact with a local realtor, Kitty Pappas, who’s arranged everything. The address on the house is 134 Tortoise Way. That’s Tango-Oscar-Romeo—

“I know how to spell tortoise,” Ben said, gritting his teeth. God love ’em, but ever since Gavin had discovered that Ben had once served in the army, he’d started using the military phonetic alphabet to spell everything out. He’d also started calling him “sir.” Ben had asked Gavin to simply call him by his first name, but Gavin had claimed that it crossed the employee-boss line. “Sir” was probably better than “boss man,” which is how Gavin had originally addressed him, but it still made Ben feel like a pretentious prick. Any day now, Gavin was probably going to start saluting him, too.

“Right, sir. Got it. The house is fully furnished and it’s already been stocked with your usual provisions. I’ve also taken the liberty to make sure the rental car will be ready to go. Greta should have no trouble at the airport this afternoon.” He gave Ben the code to the rental home’s keypad and promised to call him back later with an update on a new deal in the works.

Ben glanced at the car’s dashboard clock. It was almost noon. He’d left Miami yesterday and driven to Orlando to check out a business opportunity, spent the night in Mickey Mouse town, then left bright and early to head here to Whispering Bay. Greta and Rachel were on a flight from Miami coming into the local airport in nearby Panama City. The flight should be arriving in the next thirty minutes.

For a second, he thought about driving over to meet them but then changed his mind. Greta was more than capable of taking care of everything. He’d made sure of that when he’d hired her.

He easily found The Bistro by the Beach, but the small parking lot in front of the café was full, so he parked near the business next door. The sign above the door read Baby Got Bump, which sounded familiar. He thought back to where he might have heard that name before, and then it came to him. Last night at the hotel, he’d picked up a copy of Florida Entrepreneur. According to an article in the magazine, Baby Got Bump was an online clothing store specializing in designer maternity wear. It was also one of the fastest growing businesses in the state, which had piqued his interest.

He made a mental note to approach the owner about potential investment opportunities, then opened the door to the café. It was bright and airy and had a great view of the gulf. Almost every table was packed, too. He inspected the overhead chalkboard menu above the counter.