Jack Harper sat at the Tiki Hut bar, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against the polished wood. The soothing steel drum music and the ocean breeze did little to calm the restless energy coursing through him. He was a long way from his usual habitat on Wall Street, and his body had yet to catch up. Checking his watch, Jack realized it was 6:30 PM. If he were back in New York, he'd likely be heading into an important late night meeting right about now, not soaking up the tropical vibes at a beachside bar. "Another scotch, neat," he told the bartender, wanting something stronger to combat the disorienting sense of being so far out of his element. A melodic laugh from nearby caught his attention. "Rough day at the beach?" the bartender asked, her striking eyes twinkling with amusement and detachment from the cutthroat world Jack was used to. "I don't see how anyone manages to get any real work done around here," Jack remarked, marveling at the atmosphere of laid-back relaxation that permeated the place. "That's kind of the point," the bartender replied smoothly, sliding his drink over to him. Her demeanor was relaxed and unhurried in contrast to the ever-present tension in his own life. Jack's fingers grasped the glass but he found himself unable to lift it to his lips. "Some of us have empires to build, after all," he countered, trying to justify his presence here. "And some of us are happy enough creating sandcastles," she pointed out. "They're more fun to knock down anyway." A slight smile tugged at Jack's lips at her witty response. He glanced down at her name tag. "Sandy, was it?" "You got it, Mr..." She trailed off expectantly. "Harper. Jack Harper." "So what brings an accomplished man like you to our little slice of paradise?" Sandy inquired. "You definitely stick out among the island crowd." Jack loosened his tie, suddenly hyper aware of how unsuited his polished appearance was for this casual tropical setting. "Some business deal. Though I'm beginning to wonder if our company CEO's choice of location for this corporate retreat was truly wise." Sandy expertly grabbed a pineapple from a nearby bowl and deftly spun it like a basketball, drawing his attention. "I'm guessing you're more of a city type, used to moving fast and living life at a frenetic pace?" "The numbers never lie. Time literally equals money in my world, and this place..." he waved his hand in an encompassing sweep of the leisurely activities going on around him and out on the beach. "It's more of a productivity sinkhole than anything." Sandy raised an eyebrow, a challenge flickering in her gaze. "Maybe you're just looking at all the wrong numbers." Jack frowned. "Pardon me?" She pointed out towards the horizon where the sun was setting in a dazzling array of colors. "How much would you be willing to pay to have a view like that, precisely, back in the concrete canyons of New York City?" The scene she gestured to was indeed breathtaking - the sky and sea ablaze with the warm hues of dusk. He had to concede her point with a reluctant "Fair enough." "So tell me Mr. Jack Harper, master of the universe, what exactly is your grand scheme for conquering little Sunset Cove? Probably planning on converting our rustic tiki bars into behemoth skyscrapers?" He chuckled at the absurdity, yet felt somehow drawn to continue bantering with her quick wit. "Surprised if you'd believe me if I said my true mission was to level your precious town and build a mega-resort empire." Her eyes went wide in feigned shock, one hand placed dramatically on her chest. "The nerve! I thought you were just another attractive face hiding inside an overpriced designer suit." "Handsome, am I?" Jack couldn't resist the ego stroke. "Oh don't let that go to your head. It's nothing special, we see all types here. Last week we had to deal with a guy who was convinced he was a merman. Quite the sight, let me tell you." Jack found himself leaning in further, equally intrigued and unnerved by her easy confidence and casual intimacy. "And what type am I, then?" She paused, studying him intently, and he found his heart rate speeding up in response to the depth of her scrutiny. "The kind that needs to loosen up...literally and figuratively. There's still too much New York clinging to you. You really oughta shake that off if you have any hope of thriving here." Their eyes locked, some unspoken challenge passing between them. For a suspended moment in time, the rest of the bar faded away. The music, laughter, and waves crashing in the distance all receded like background noise. A loud crash from the other end of the bar jolted them back to reality. "Oh great, looks like someone's had one too many Mai Tais again. Duty calls," Sandy said. She turned to go help, but paused and glanced back at Jack over her shoulder with that mischievous glint still shining in her eye. "Don't work too hard now, Mr. Harper," she warned him playfully. "You might actually enjoy yourself here, if you open your mind to it." She then sauntered off, weaving through the crowd with natural poise. Jack watched, captivated, drawn to her confidence and how other patrons brightened as she passed. What had just happened? He turned back to examine his reflection in the mirror behind the bar - tie askew, hair mussed. He barely recognized himself. His phone buzzed with an incoming message and he automatically reached for it. It was from Marcus: "Update on the Sinclair account? Remember why you're really here, Harper." Reality came crashing back in. Jack downed the last of his scotch and stood, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair back in place. He took a deep breath. Focus, Harper. You're not here to flirt with the bartenders, he sternly reminded himself. He turned to leave, crossing the beach bar towards the sand. The warm planks creaked under his weight. He stopped just at the threshold, gazing back at Sandy - she was laughing at something from behind the bar, sunlight gleaming in her hair like spun gold. This might prove problematic for his plans here, he realized. He stepped into the soft sand and paused again, letting the ocean breeze carry away the last strains of the bar's music. He looked to his left, the well-manicured path beckoned back to the resort - his laptop, reports, and world of sterile numbers awaited him. To his right, the wild, untouched beach stretched out endlessly, promising adventures he couldn't fathom. The faint outlines of a few late beach wanderers - a couple strolling together, a child's gleeful cry as they played - called to him. His phone vibrated again. Damn it Marcus, always reminding him this was supposed to be all about work. However, he simply could not resist one final glance back towards the Tiki Hut. Sandy was visible through the windows, her silhouette charming as she shook up another cocktail. Stay on track, Harper, he urged himself as he finally turned away reluctantly. Keep your eye on the business prize. But Jack knew, even as he dutifully trudged off, that Sunset Cove was starting to get under his skin in ways he hadn't expected. The place was proving to have more to offer than he'd anticipated - in more ways than one.