Free The Trouble with Mojitos by Romy Sommer Page B

fired up a barbecue, and the sizzling aroma of grilling fish filled the air. Kenzie’s stomach started doing flick-flacks.
    Rik lazed back in his chair. “So tell me about this man who’s put you off trust funds.”
    “It’s not just one man. Actually it’s probably not any men at all. It’s me. I have a tendency to go out with guys who are completely self-absorbed.”
    Brett, aka Bad Boy Number Three hadn’t been a trust fund baby. But he hadn’t been a steady job kind of guy either. He’d been a musician, very talented but useless when it came to things like showing up on time or paying bills. She’d ended up supporting him. And bailing him out.
    “I’m tired of always being the responsible one and getting nothing in return. From now on I’m going to be selfish. If there’s nothing in it for me, then I’m not interested.”
    She didn’t know why she was spilling her guts to Rik. He surely couldn’t be interested. Perhaps she was just trying to remind herself.
    He smiled and raised his water glass to her. “I’ll toast to that. Here’s to being selfish and looking out for number one.”
    Like that was a surprise. Same as every other man she’d been attracted to, he’d probably spent his whole life looking out for himself.
    The calypso music in the background cranked up, and the deck began to fill around them, a rowdy Friday night mix of locals and tourists. Not the well-heeled tourists one saw in Fredrikshafen, but the backpacker kind. The sort of people who came to dive and hike, with natural tans rather than the type that came from a spray can.
    Her kind of people. She relaxed a little more.
    “So what do you do, when you’re not ferrying damsels in distress around the islands?” she asked.
    His expression shut down. “What’s your next assignment?”
    Back to playing Mystery Man again. She rolled her eyes. “I have no idea. I fly back to London on Monday evening, and then … who knows?”
    “How do you plan ahead?”
    “I don’t.”
    He frowned. “So what’s your career plan then?”
    “There’s no point in making plans, since they never work out. I prefer to live in the moment.” She might have said the earth was flat, the way he looked at her. She hadn’t figured him for a Type A personality.
    He raised an eyebrow. “How’s that working out for you?”
    She laughed and looked around. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m in paradise and I’m getting paid to be here. What could be better?”
    “Everyone should have a five year plan. It’s the only way to get ahead.”
    “So what’s your five year plan?”
    For a long moment he didn’t answer. Then he sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m figuring that out. The plan I had … it didn’t work out.” The confession seemed to be wrung from him, and she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But she wasn’t falling for the poor little rich boy act again.
    “Exactly. A lot of plans don’t pan out. But there are always other options. What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
    “There’s only one thing I ever wanted to be: what I was. I wanted to work in the family business and I did until … I guess you could call it a hostile take-over.”
    “You never wanted to stretch your wings and try something new?” She couldn’t imagine it. Being raised your whole life to do one thing and actually wanting to do it? The earth would be flat before she did what everyone else wanted her to do.
    Her parents had tried. They still told her she was being selfish for not moving back home to work in the family bakery. They’d also tried to set her up with their accountant more times than she could count.
    She couldn’t think of anything worse. Spending the rest of her life in suburbia, tied to her parents, the business, an accountant … having to work under her can-do-no-wrong big brother … 
    She gulped down a mouthful of mojito. It hurt that her own family still knew her so little they thought she’d be happy living that