All I know is that it will be one hundred percent inappropriate for the office.

“But I have work….” The protest coming over my shoulder is weak.

I wave it off. “Get changed.”

Out in the golden sunrise light of morning, Jenny walks next to me with her head held high.

She looks dynamite in the yoga outfit I chose for her to wear.

It’s not from the gift shop, though the sight of her in the curve-hugging spandex makes me think we should start stocking it. I had it delivered from an exercise boutique in town, and it was worth every penny.

Her dark hair is twisted into a low knot at the back of her neck, and she has a yoga mat in its holder slung over her right shoulder. “I take it we’re not swimming, then?” She cuts her eyes across at me, and I catch an impish sparkle playing there.

“After yesterday? I don’t think so.”

She sniffs. “I thought yesterday was quite successful.”

“I thought yesterday was—” I stop myself before the words unbearably sexy slip from my mouth. It was unbearable, but I wouldn’t call the erection that strained the front of the swim trunks sexy. “I thought yesterday put us on uneven footing.”

Jenny looks at me like she has no idea what I mean. “You want me in front of the camera?”

“No. I want me calling the shots. That’s why we’re going to take a class of my choosing. You need to get acquainted with the resort and all it has to offer before you start making decisions that are going to affect our brand image.”

“I see.” I’ll be damned if I don’t see a satisfied smile punctuating her lips. Maybe it’s a product of my imagination, because before I know it, she’s turned a serious eye to the path ahead of us. “Is this beach yoga?”

“Yes. We offer morning sessions five days a week.”

She nods as we reach the end of the wooden walkway and head out onto the sand. A couple of years ago, I had a section of rubberized flooring installed about forty feet from the water so nobody twisted their ankle in the sand, and the classes have been a hit.

Today, the crowd looks bigger than usual. There are already ten people out there, which is…unexpected. As we approach the practice surface, the instructor, a woman named Azalea, bounces over with a delighted expression. “Mr. Bliss!” She claps her hands in front of her. “I didn’t think I’d see you here today.” There’s nothing remotely cautionary in her tone, but there’s something about her expression….

“It’s a gorgeous morning. I thought I’d bring my new social media manager to experience the class for herself.”