by Vi Keeland
“No. My room was just fine.”
“Was it too noisy?”
“Nope. It was pretty peaceful.”
“So why would you move, then?”
“It’s going to drive you nuts if I don’t tell you, isn’t it? Sort of like why you followed me the other day. You’re a little on the nosy side, aren’t you, Fifi?”
She squinted. “And you’re a little on the annoying side. So spill it. Why did you move?”
My eyes dropped to her lips for a few heartbeats before returning to meet her gaze. “I figured it would smell like you.”
Sophia sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s why you told them not to make up the room?”
I leaned toward her. “The sheets still smell like you. I like to imagine that you laid in them completely naked with your fingers inside yourself.”
Sophia’s face flushed. Her lips parted, and her breathing was a little faster and a lot shallower. The look was so fucking sexy. It made my mind race, and I wondered if she would stop me if I slipped my hand beneath the table and fingered her.
Lucky for both of us, the waiter returned. Oblivious to the tension, he set down Sophia’s wine and my drink. “So have you decided? Anything jump out at you that whets your appetite, or would you like to hear the specials?”
My eyes slanted to meet Sophia’s. “Oh my appetite is whet, alright.”
There was a sparkle in her eye, but she cleared her throat and folded her hands. “Actually, I’d like to hear the specials.”
The waiter droned on for a few minutes…some fish…some Japanese beef…some fancy names to justify the lofty price tag. But basically whatever he said went in one ear and out my other. My brain was too busy to catch words as I imagined Sophia trying to keep a straight face while my fingers moved inside her and the waiter stood there talking. At some point, the masculine voice stopped and a higher-pitched one started, and then there was silence. It took a few seconds to realize both Sophia and the waiter were looking at me.
“Umm… I’ll take the same thing she’s having.”
The waiter nodded. “Very good, sir.”
After he disappeared, Sophia lifted her wine glass to her lips, hiding a smirk. “You have no idea what you just ordered, do you?”
I shook my head. “Not a damn clue.”
A few more interruptions followed. The busboy brought bread, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil, and the restaurant manager walked over to introduce himself. Everyone at the hotel recognized us now. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately for Sophia—the moment had fizzled by the time we were alone again. And even if it hadn’t, the direction Sophia took the conversation certainly would have killed it.
“Can I ask how long you’ve been in recovery?”
“Fourteen months.”
She nodded. “Good for you. I honestly had no idea. And here I thought our families did such a good job tracking all the gossip on each other.”
“That’s only true of the stuff they want people to know. But we all bury the things that might blemish the family name too much.” I took the lemon off the side of my glass and squeezed it into my seltzer. “As far as the world knows, your mother divorced your father in an amicable split. If we hadn’t spent that night together after the prom, I wouldn’t have even known he’d left you guys.”
Sophia tilted her head and studied me for a moment. “You never mentioned what I told you that night to anyone in your family, did you? I don’t think I realized until this moment that you could have leaked the truth as gossip. I’m sure your father or grandfather would have shared it if you’d mentioned it to them.”
I sipped my seltzer. “You told me that while we were lying in your bed. Give me a little more credit than that.”
Sophia looked away but nodded. “So…the psychiatrist you go to, is that part of your recovery?”
I nodded. “It’s part of my grandfather’s recovery plan for me, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I want to keep my job, I have to do what he says. Fourteen months ago, I wound up in the emergency room after nearly drinking myself to death. I did thirty days in rehab to dry out. During that time, my father and grandfather personally stepped in to take over the properties I ran. Las Vegas hotels have to be watched like a hawk. You tend to get a lot of gamblers with money problems as employees, and the theft and embezzlement can run rampant if no one’s minding the store.”
I shook my head. “They had to clean house while I was gone. I’d been too wasted most of the time to notice people stealing right under my nose. A woman I’d been sleeping with tried to blackmail my family with videos of me doing stupid shit, like taking a piss in the hotel’s fountain. It wasn’t pretty. The day I got out of rehab, my grandfather gave me an ultimatum: ‘Do exactly what I say or you’re on your own.’ Psychiatrist, AA meetings, random piss testing—you name it. I’m a puppet, and he holds the strings.”
“Wow. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure if I spiraled out of control and wound up in the emergency room, my father would hang up on the call and never even come.”
I forced a smile. But really, her father pissed me off more than my own family did. At least mine had reason to treat me like dirt. I was a fuckup.
The waiter showed up with our food, and I was glad to move on from this conversation. I cut into my steak and steered things in an entirely different direction. “So, have you heard from the playwright since he and I had a nice chat?”
“He sent me a text, basically saying I had a lot of nerve letting another man answer my phone. I blocked him from calling or texting after that.”
I smiled. “Good for you.”
“What about you? Any disastrous relationships since we parted ways prom night?”
“I think those are the only kind I’ve had over the last twelve years.”
“No serious girlfriend at all?”
“There was one. Brooke. We were together for a little over a year.”
Sophia wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What happened there?”
“I fucked it up. We got together a few months before Caroline died five years ago. I spun out of control after that. Eventually, she didn’t want to put up with my crap anymore.” I shrugged. “I don’t blame her.”
I saw sympathy in Sophia’s eyes and hated it. I guess I hadn’t steered us in the right direction after all. “Not to change from the happy topics we’ve been discussing, but I’m down to two issues with the union—number of sick days and the quota for how many rooms the cleaning crew are required to clean per shift.”
“Oh, that’s great. Anything I can do to help?”
“I have a sit-down scheduled for the end of this week.” I debated how to handle that. “If you’d like to join me, you’re welcome.”
Sophia smiled. “I’d like that. Oh, also, I have a friend coming in from London. Scarlett is staying here. She arrives this Friday, so your mention of the union meeting reminded me. If you see a woman with bright red lipstick that matches the bottoms of her shoes and looks like she stepped out of a Vogue magazine, that would be her.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Oh, she is.” Sophia lifted her glass and tilted it toward me. “You know, now that I think about it, in a way, she’s sort of the female equivalent of you.”
“How so?”
“She’s arrogant and confident. The sea kind of parts when she walks into a room.”
I perked a brow. “You better watch it there, that almost sounded like a compliment.”
Sophia shook her head. “Let’s not go crazy. But since it seems like you’re in a pretty good mood, would it be okay if I kept the suite a few days longer than my week? At least until Scarlett leaves? Then we can switch, and you can keep it for as long as I did. Scarlett and I like to sit around and talk late at night, so it would be nice to have the living room while she’s in town.”
“No problem. I wasn’t planning on making you alternate with me anyway.”
“
You weren’t?”
I shook my head. “I never even requested an upgrade when I checked in. I just said that to screw with you.”
Sophia’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re such a jerk.”
I chuckled. “You say that like you’re surprised. But you can’t honestly tell me that’s news to you.”
“No, definitely not. But thanks for coming clean and letting me keep the suite while Scarlett is here anyway.”
After dinner, we walked to the elevator bank together. I kept my distance on the other side of the car and shoved my hands into my pants pockets. We’d had a nice evening. It was the first time I felt like Sophia had let her guard down. So as much as I wanted to back her up against the elevator wall and push the emergency stop button, she seemed vulnerable in a way that made it feel wrong to go there.
At the eighth floor, I hesitated as I got out—especially when I looked over at Sophia and could have sworn she looked a little disappointed about how our evening was ending. I had to force one foot in front of the other to make myself get off the damn elevator.
Looking back, I caught her eyes one last time. “Sweet dreams, Fifi.”
She shook her head. “Goodnight, Weston.”
Chapter 13
* * *
Sophia
I rolled over in bed, unable to fall asleep after half an hour.
It bugged me that Weston hadn’t even attempted to persuade me to go back to his hotel room or worm his way into mine. I knew it was stupid to lose sleep over it, but I couldn’t stop wondering why. He could have just been tired or not in the mood, but neither one of those seemed likely for Weston. So the only logical conclusion I could come up with was that he’d grown bored.
It shouldn’t have been a shock to figure out he was one of those types of guys—the ones who enjoy the chase more than the prize itself. In fact, now that I thought about it, that actually made a whole lot of sense. We’d had a nice dinner, good conversation—dare I say the evening was friendly? I’d mistaken Weston’s attraction to the chase for an attraction to me.
But that was fine. Really, it was—even if accepting it caused a weird ache in my chest. Absolutely no good could come from the craziness between us anyway. In my head, I knew we were better off keeping our distance.
Yet I still couldn’t fall asleep.
So rather than further analyze our dangerous attraction, I thought back to the things Weston had shared tonight. He was an alcoholic. And if I read between the lines correctly, things had gone bad after his sister died. Those two had been thick as thieves. I considered myself an only child, since I didn’t count my half-brother, Spencer, so I didn’t have any experience with a relationship like those two had. I would imagine growing up in either of our big, yet lonely families caused siblings to grow even closer—us against them. Then add Caroline’s illness, and I could see how Weston would’ve taken the protective, big-brother role, even though he was younger. Losing it after she died didn’t seem like a negative thing. There was something beautiful about him caring for someone so deeply that after she was gone, he became self-destructive. In a weird way, I was kind of envious of that kind of love and dedication to another person. I’d been close to my mother, but she’d died before I was even really an adult.
Thinking about that side of Weston gave me a warm feeling. And also made me feel a little unsettled. So maybe it was for the best that he’d seemed to lose interest. Because the last thing I needed was to grow feelings for a member of the Lockwood family.
***
The next day, I’d just hung up my phone when Weston popped his head into my office.
“Meeting with the union is Friday at two o’clock.”
“Oh, okay. That’s great. Thank you. I was actually going to come by your office to see you.”
He grinned. “Miss me already, huh?”
“How could I miss you when I saw you a few hours ago standing behind the column in the lobby watching me get my coffee?”
Rather than deny anything, Weston’s grin widened to a smile. “Some guy was standing in my normal spot.”
“I find it interesting that you don’t even try to hide your stalking. Is this a hobby for you? Stalking, I mean.”
“You’re my first.” He winked. “You lucky girl, you.”
I shook my head. “Anyway, I spoke to the Boltons a little while ago, and they were able to get all the outstanding permit issues cleared up so they can get started. There are a few things they wanted to discuss over lunch today, if you’re available.”
Weston rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “They called you, huh?”
“Yes.”
He tilted his head. “Which one called? Sam or Travis?”
I knew what he was getting at, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Travis.”
“So he called you, but specifically asked you to invite me along as well?”
I rolled my eyes. “Get over yourself, Weston. Your big ego shouldn’t bruise that easily if someone prefers to call me over you. It makes sense since my family has worked with him before.”
“Sure…right…”
I sighed. “Are you going to join us or not? I’m going to call downstairs and reserve a table for one o’clock. Should I make it for two or three?”
“Definitely three. There’s nothing I enjoy more than being a third wheel.” He rapped his knuckles against my door. “See you later, Fifi.”
A few hours later, I’d lost track of the time and arrived at the restaurant at ten after one. Travis and Weston were already seated. They stood as I approached the table.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I’m not sure where the morning went.”
Both men went to pull out the chair between them at the same time. It was awkward, but Travis backed off.
“Thank you,” I said, taking my seat. “I hope I didn’t miss too much.”
“Not at all.” Travis smiled. “It gave Weston and me a chance to get to know each other a little.”
My eyes slanted to Weston’s. He picked up a glass of water and brought it to his lips. “It made my day.”
I scowled. Luckily Travis either didn’t notice Weston’s sarcasm or was professional enough for both of them and ignored it.
“I was just starting to tell Weston we can start as soon as tomorrow, if that’s alright with you both. All of the open issues with the building department have been cleared, and the missing paperwork filed. I had to renew the permits because they’d expired already, but I took the liberty of putting down tomorrow as the start date. So we’re ready to go, if you give us the all clear.”
Weston and I agreed the sooner the better, and we went on to discuss how many shifts we wanted working and the dates Travis thought we might want to leave the rooms directly below the construction open because of higher noise levels. We ordered, and by the time our food came, Weston’s attitude seemed to have relaxed a bit.
Travis picked up the ketchup and twisted the top. Removing the bun from his hamburger, he said, “You know, my fiancée and I looked at the Imperial Salon after we got engaged.” He smiled. “Once we got the cost estimate, we realized we’d have to cut our guest list in half to hold our wedding here. But I think if the rooftop had been open at the time we were looking, my fiancée would’ve talked me into taking out a loan to snag this place. I really think it’s going to be beautiful, once it’s done.”
Weston perked up. “Where did you wind up having your wedding?”
Travis shook his head. “We didn’t. Things…didn’t work out exactly as planned.”
Weston sent a gloating smile my way. “You like the single life, then? Some people just aren’t the marrying type.”
“Oh, no. I’m definitely the marrying type. I hate the bar scene and prefer a quiet night at home after a long day’s work. My fiancée, Alana, passed away.” He shook his head. “Breast cancer.”
I put my hand on Travis’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
I didn’t miss the way Wes
ton’s eyes zoomed in on my hand.
He grumbled between gritted teeth, “Sorry for your loss.”
A little while later, we’d gotten on the subject of college, and Travis mentioned that he’d dropped out. Again, Weston seemed to perk up and commented that not everyone could hack finishing their education. Travis then replied that he’d dropped out to help his dad, who needed back surgery.
There were a few more odd exchanges like that, and I could’ve sworn Weston enjoyed hearing a potential negative about Travis, and it pissed him off every time when it turned out to be something noble.
When our lunch plates were cleared, the waiter came over and handed us dessert menus. “We also have a wonderful array of spiked coffees—Irish coffee with Bailey’s, French cappuccino made with Grand Marnier, and Italian Classico made with amaretto.”
Full from lunch, I passed on dessert but ordered a cappuccino. Weston ordered a regular coffee, and the waiter turned to Travis.
“How about you? The spiked coffees are delicious. Can I tempt you?”
Travis held up a hand. “No, no temptation for me. Thank you. I’ll have a regular coffee.”
“I guess it’s not such a good idea to add liquor to lunch when you work around heavy machinery,” Weston said.
Travis nodded. “Actually, I don’t drink at all. Seen too many guys go down a rabbit hole from alcohol. It’s just a personal choice.”
Weston’s jaw flexed. He tossed his napkin on the table. “You know what? I just remembered I have another appointment to get to. I’ll see you tomorrow, Travis.” He nodded to me. “I’ll take care of the check on my way out. You two enjoy yourselves.”
Chapter 14
* * *
Sophia
“Oh my God, it’s worse than I expected. What is that dreadful thing you have on your arms?”
“Scarlett! You’re early!” I rushed out from behind the reception desk and wrapped my arms around my friend. After we hugged, Scarlett pulled back and held my shoulders.