Chapter 2: Was that Someone Me?

Emma's POV

The Maldives was supposed to be my get-away, my reset button. The soft white sand, turquoise waves, and tropical cocktails, all a gift to tide me over into my renewal.

What a pity, such thoughtfully laid plans had a hard time washing down the bitter aftertaste that was left behind in my mouth, courtesy Ryan. No number of sunrises seen from my overwater villa helped. So I decided to drink. I drank a lot.

I swirled the remains of my drink in my glass as I sat at the bar, my vision a little hazy, but my resolve clear as diamonds. I was going to forget Ryan, that was the objective.

The men around me stole glances, some bold enough to smile or nod in my direction, but I wasn't interested. My heart wasn't broken; it was annihilated. No smooth, talking vacation fling was going to fix that.

"Another," I said, tapping the bar counter.

The bartender hesitated, eyeing me warily. "Miss, maybe you should…"

"I said, another," I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended.

Just as he reached for another bottle, a voice interrupted, deep and familiar. "I think you've had enough."

I groaned, rolling my eyes without looking. But I had in mind that it was one of those men watching me that had the boldness to come forward. "Who the hell asked you?" My words slurred slightly, irritated, and I was in no mood for judgmental strangers.

"It's none of your business."

I turned to glare at the intruder, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but when my gaze locked onto his, the world seemed to tilt even more than the alcohol had made it.

Ryan's boss.

The man who'd played along with my impulsive stunt back in the elevator. The man who'd left without even telling me his name.

"You," I blurted, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Ryan's boss."

His lips twitched, and with a shake of his head, he leaned in slightly. "Liam," he corrected smoothly. "Not Ryan's boss.

I blinked at him, trying to process, but the alcohol wasn't helping. "Right, Liam," I murmured, testing the name on my tongue. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his piercing blue eyes watching me too closely, like he was trying to read every unspoken thought swirling in my drunken head.

I shrugged dramatically and almost spilled my drink. "Vacation. Trying to forget." I laughed; it sounded hollow even to my ears. "What about you? Bosses don't take vacation, do they?"

Liam smirked, sliding onto the barstool beside me. "I do when it's necessary."

Before I could ask what that meant, he tilted his head, watching me with a calculated look. "Since we're both here, I have an idea.

I squinted at him, puzzled. "An idea?"

His lips curled in that infuriatingly confident way. "Let's continue what we started in the elevator."

I blinked at him, the words sluggishly registering. I had forgotten for a moment about our first meet-cute in the elevator. Then I suddenly recalled. "The ... .the fake fiancé thing?"

He nodded, taking a sip from his drink like he had just suggested something as casual as grabbing lunch.

The buzz of the alcohol that had fuzzed my brain all evening momentarily dissipated.

"Why the hell would you want to do that?" I said, scoffing, staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

Liam didn't bat an eyelid. "Because you want revenge, and I… Well, let's just say having a fiancée would be useful for me."

I snorted, waving my hand dismissively. "You could just fire Ryan. That'd be sweet revenge for me. Don't you think?

Liam's eyes darkened a little. "I could do that," he said, swirling the liquid in his glass. "But what's in it for me?"

His words hung in the air between us, and damn it, they made sense in a way I didn't want to admit. As much as I wanted Ryan out of my life, the thought of showing up with his powerful boss on my arm, would make him squirm. It was a tempting offer.

I tapped my chin, trying to think through the haze in my head. "I'll think about it," I said finally, rummaging through my purse as I brought out some money and placed it on the bar counter.

I pushed away from the bar, my hand clutching my purse with shaking fingers. But the moment I stood, the world spun wildly, and I stumbled forward.

Before I could hit the ground, strong arms caught me, and I found myself pressed against Liam's firm chest.

"Yeah," he chuckled low, the heat of his breath sending a wave of warmth along my ear. "You're definitely in no condition to think about anything right now."

I protested weakly, trying to push at him. "I can get to my room by myself."

Liam just shook his head, refusing to let go. "No, you can't." Hunching over a little, he spoke softer this time. "Come on, I'll make sure you don't end up passed out on the beach.

Despite myself, I let him steer me, my head leaning gently against his shoulder. And for one wild instant, I even dared to hope that this insane, reckless idea of his might just be exactly what I need to finally, really forget Ryan.

We got into a room, I felt unconscious and at the same time, I could tell that I had been placed gently on a soft bed. I curled myself up in the blanket.

“Why drink so much when you can't handle it?” I heard Liam's voice, it sounded like he was mocking me.

“At least I still hear you. Everything…you say.” I said drowsingly before shutting my eyes again. I could hear a bottle cork open, I opened my eyes again. “Accusing me for drinking but you're busy opening tequila.”

Suddenly, a phone rang, it wasn't mine but Liam's. “Get some sleep, Miss Emma.” Liam said before walking out the door. How did he know my name? I never told him my name.

“Enough with the blind dates Dad. I found someone already.” I heard Liam's whispering voice from outside the bedroom.

Was the “someone”, me?