Man Trouble Read Free

Quentin. He pushed aside the pile of paper on his desk and closed his eyes briefly.
    “Darling,” said his mother, who was sitting in a leather armchair nearby, studying fabric samples for the renovation of the Gold Bay lobby, “did I just see you cringe?”
    “Yes,” Jake said. “And before the week is out, you may see me snap completely.”
    Oliver Arias, Jake's number-two man and Berenger Corporation's Chief Operations Officer, was too discreet to laugh, but a faint smile hovered on the edges of his mouth.
    Cora Berenger began to protest, but Jake held up a warning hand as he heard light footsteps approaching the library. The door to his suite of rooms had been closed, which would have suggested to most people that he did not want to be disturbed, but he knew from recent experience that it took more than subtle suggestion to discourage Amanda Harper.
    Moments later, she appeared in the doorway. Twenty-one years old, golden-haired, with the face of an angel, the body of a centerfold, and the soul of a pit bull, Amanda was the only daughter of Harry Harper, Jake's longtime friend and mentor. Unfortunately, the same steely determination that had made her father a major player in the oil business had expressed itself in Amanda as one single-minded goal: to have and to hold Jake Berenger.
    “I found you,” Amanda said. She was wearing a lime-green bikini under some kind of gauzy white minidress, and she smiled at him, tilting her head so that her hair swung forward in a shining curtain.
    “You did, indeed,” Jake said.
    “It wasn't very hard. You're always in here. How can you work on such a beautiful day? Why don't you come down to the beach? You're supposed to be on vacation.”
    “Funny thing about the world,” Jake said, “it doesn't seem to care that I'm on vacation. And I thought that I was doing well, working only six hours a day instead of ten.”
    Amanda laughed uneasily, and Jake could tell that she wasn't sure whether he was joking or not. He wasn't.
You want me, little girl?
he thought.
Be careful what you wish for. This is what you'll get.
    She, like everyone else who didn't know him, had bought into the tabloid version of his life. She wanted it for herself, but she didn't know that she was chasing a phantom. If you believed what you read in the papers, his world consisted of glittering parties, jet-set events, and an endless procession of beautiful women. The reality was somewhat different. The parties were choreographed publicity stunts designed to keep the media buzzing about the Berenger hotels; the jet-set events were corporate sponsorships carefully chosen to flash the Berenger logo in the eyes of their most elite customers, and the women were models or actresses who saw the chance to appear on his arm as a useful promotion for their own careers. It was a mutual use situation, and Jake had learned that there was no shortage of available flesh as long as the champagne was flowing and the flashbulbs were popping.
    He heard his mother sigh, as if she'd read his thoughts. It had been her idea to invite Amanda to spend the winter holidays at Gold Bay with their family. The official reason given was that Amanda's parents were enjoying a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary trip to Europe, but Jake knew his mother well enough to guess that she had an ulterior motive similar to Amanda's.
    “Oliver,” Cora said briskly, and Oliver looked up nervously from his sheaf of papers. He, like everyone else who worked for Berenger, held Cora in a regard that mixed awe, adoration, and terror. Gold Bay was the crown jewel in the company treasury, and it had been Cora's baby from the beginning. She was the managing director of the exclusive resort, and she ran it with an efficiency that would have impressed the U.S. Army. In keeping with that theme, Jake teasingly referred to her as his five-star resort general.
    “It seems a shame,” she continued, “to send you back to New York tonight without giving you a little