I exit into the hallway, pulling the door shut and leaning on the hard surface. Clearly, Jensen Miller and I have gone from bedroom buddies to enemies in less than twelve hours. I have absolutely no clue how that happens or how to fix this mess. I don’t even know how to ask for my phone back that I’m certain he must have. I’m darn sure not asking for my panties. He can keep them.
Part Four: Controlled
More worried than ever about Katie calling my phone, I pry myself off of the door and rush to my desk. Clinging to the hope that maybe Jensen doesn’t have my phone, I grab the desk phone and don’t bother to sit, quickly punching in the front desk and speaking to lost and found. A minute later, disappointed with bad news, I sink into my seat and glance toward the hallway where I’ve just come from, debating going back and just asking Jensen if he has it. The debate lasts about thirty seconds and I stay in my seat, determining I had better get his meetings set up if I want to keep my job.
It’s a thought that has me deviating from that plan, and I dial Katie’s phone only to hear her voice mail again. “Call me,” I say anxiously to her message system. “It’s urgent.” I glance around the empty lobby again, as if “he” will suddenly appear and I lower my voice. “I don’t have my phone. It’s lost in the hotel somewhere. Anyone could see any message you leave me. Please. Come to work. There are things going on here you need to know about. Please, Katie.” I end the call and resist the urge to seek out Meredith, deciding it’s best I make sure Jensen is plenty busy first.
Pulling out a list of department heads, I dial the front desk again, but this time I ask for the manager on duty, who is far from pleased about the impromptu meeting. With her on her way, I quickly line up two more meetings and have the general manager set up for the lunch hour, allowing him time to call the managers who are off duty and get them into work.
About the time I end that call, Sheila steps into the corporate office suite, rushing forward and swiping at her brown hair. “How important is this?”
“Very,” I assure her, pushing to my feet. “We have a consultant in from the Board of Directors. He’s interviewing all the department heads today.”
She stops at my desk, lowering her voice, her eyes going wide. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Meredith requested him. It’s all I know.”
“And we knew this when?”
“Today. I think that’s the idea. To see us all in our true element.”
“We plan and organize,” she states. “That’s how we succeed.”
“I wasn’t aware everything could be planned for.”
At the sound of the familiar male voice, my heart lurches and Sheila whirls around to face Jensen at the same moment I do. I find him standing at the edge of the hallway, and Lord help me, the man radiates masculinity and power, the epitome of every fantasy ever created by womankind in his suit and tie. I don’t have to see Sheila’s face to know her jaw is on the ground.
“This is your first appointment,” I announce, trying not to remember how close I came to seeing this man gloriously naked. “Sheila runs our front desk services,” I continue, touching her shoulder. She jolts a bit and glances at me and then at Jensen again. “Sheila,” I continue, “this is—”
“Jensen Miller.” he supplies, waving her down the path he’s just traveled and without a glance my way. Sheila hurries forward, managing to be by his side in a flash and smiling up at him as if he’s some sort of Greek god.
“Whatever I can do to help,” she offers. “I’m at your service.”
I roll my eyes as the pair disappears and force myself to line up a few more meetings before I go to Meredith’s door and knock. “Come in,” I hear almost instantly.
Wasting no time, I enter the office and shut the door. She holds up her hands. “I know it’s a shock, but I felt my silence was necessary until I was certain Jensen wouldn’t be dissuaded by the board to aid our situation.” She motions me forward. “Come here and sit.”
Moving toward the desk, I claim the leather visitor's seat directly in front of her and hold onto both arms. “How bad is this, Meredith?”
“Bad.” Her hands settle on her desk and flatten, as if she’s bracing herself for more of whatever is to come. “Really bad.”
“And you think Jensen can save us?”
“Better he be my bastard than the board’s.”
“Bastard?”
“Of course he’s a bastard. He has an agenda and it’s his wallet. He feels he can save us and his investment with us.”
“So he’s not loyal to you.”
“He’s loyal to his wallet and that’s good. He feels the board is going to cost him money.”
My head is spinning and I have the sense there are many vines growing from one stem, most of them invisible to me. I’m in the middle and in the dark. I’m certain of it. “If we don’t win over Jensen’s support, then what?”
“The board fires me and lays off half the staff.”
My fingers dig into the arms of the chair. “What? Half the staff?”
“They’ve demanded I do it and I’ve refused. I presented a plan for growth rather than one of destruction. Now, it’s in Jensen’s hands to approve it, amend it, or sign off on the board’s proposal. I need you to accommodate any request he has in the process.”
“He wants me to take him to the other locations. I’m not qualified to be his tour guide. I don’t know enough.”
“What you don’t know can’t hurt you or me. That’s exactly why you’re the chosen one. That and you’re loyal. I need you to do this for me and for the staff.”
There’s a desperateness to her tone that is disarming in every way. “I appreciate your faith, but I really think you need to do this. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“He doesn’t want me. He wants you.”
I tilt my head to study her. “Didn’t you choose me?”
“No. He did. And I was as surprised as you, but the more I think about it the more I think this is a right choice. He thinks you’re close to me so you have my secrets. He thinks this will rattle me. Like I said. What you don’t know can’t hurt us.”
At this point, I have no idea who made me the chosen one. Only that one of them is lying. “I thought you said he was helping you.”
“I said he was helping himself and if he loses faith in what I’m doing, he’ll hand me to the board.” She leans in closer, allowing me to see just how bloodshot her eyes are. “Please, Danny. This is good for everyone, not just me.”
The use of the word “please” stuns me. She demands. She does not ask, especially not politely. This can only mean she’s not exaggerating the situation. Her job, and others, are on the line. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
She lets out a breath I didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank God.”
“I’ll get someone in to cover for me here.”
“No. I don’t want anyone but you close to me or this office right now.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Positive. And shouldn’t you be checking on Jensen?”
I glance at my watch and push to my feet. “Yes. He’s meeting with all of the department heads and he has another meeting about to begin.”
“Let me know your travel schedule,” she instructs. “And call me each evening from the hotels.”
Each evening from the hotels. Where I’ll be with Jensen. “Yes. Yes, I will.” I rush to the door and pause with my hand on the knob, turning to ask the question ringing in my mind. “Did he ask for me by name?”
“I told you he did.”
Her tone has that familiar edge that is so Meredith, and while it normally makes me bite my tongue, this time I press onward. “He asked for me,” I prod. “Not your assistant.” And just to be clear, I add, “He asked for me by name.”
“Semantics, Danny.”
I hesitate, wanting to say that it’s not that simple, but for reasons I can’t seem to explain, saying more feels wrong. Whatever Jensen Miller’s motivation for invo
lving me in this is, I’m caged in, unable to do anything but the obvious. I’m going to take him on the tours.
Part Five: Hungry Like A Wolf
By lunchtime, I’ve picked up lunch for Meredith and paraded a line of department heads through to Jensen’s office, all the while fending off snappy attitudes and curious prods over his demand for appointments. One by one, each manager leaves his office, either smiling or scowling.
By one o’clock, I dial his office to see if he wants food. “Your 1:30 moved to 4:00, so you have time to eat.”
“You plan to poison me?”
“Not until we’re on the road,” I say, snapping out the rebuttal after years of word wars with a stepbrother from stepfather number two. “I don’t want to risk someone else getting the credit.”
Jensen surprises me with a deep, sexy laugh, showing no signs of agitation at my reply. “Sounds like I need to keep an eye on you.”
Aware that the hardness of his voice earlier today has been replaced with a subtle sexiness, my mouth goes dry and I’m not sure how to respond. Is he flirting? Or am I simply reading into his tone because, well, the man still has my panties.
“Are you there, Ms. Woods?” he prods when I’m silent too long, not even sure how long too long is at this point.
“Yes. I’m here.”
“What do you suggest for lunch?”
“The kitchen makes a good blackened chicken sandwich or I hear the burgers are good. I wouldn’t know. I don’t do big, greasy, and fat-laden.”
“Sold. I’ll take the burger.”
His obviously lighter mood puzzles me, but I don’t have time to analyze it as the elevator dings and I glance up to see a visitor stepping into the lobby. “Your next appointment just arrived. I’ll bring him to you and then walk to the kitchen to get the order.”
“I’m ready and waiting, Ms.Woods.” There’s a raspy, almost intimate quality to the way he says my name, a quality that I must have imagined. The man has made it clear he hates me, but then, I’m pretty sure my mother has proven there’s a fine line between lust and hate, love being the furthest from most people’s minds.
“Danny.”
The greeting comes from Frank, a tall, thin man with newly developing salt and pepper hair who runs the accounting department. He stops in front of my desk.
Shaking off my distraction, I force my attention into the moment and stand. “Hi, Frank. Let me walk you back to your meeting with Jensen Miller.”
He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. “I’m certainly eager to find out how all of this will affect our financials.”
“All of this?”
“The hotel is buzzing about a potential expansion.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” I ask, going with the flow, worried just the opposite is about to occur.
“If it’s done right. Speaking of doing things right, have you heard from Katie?”
“No. Why? Should I have?”
“She left a message with my assistant that she’s sick, but I can’t reach her to find out what that means.” He grimaces. “Last night was her birthday. I’m concerned this is a case of too much partying.”
“She was with me here at the hotel,” I quickly counter, though worried that rocker boyfriend of Katie’s has influenced her to do something she’ll regret. “We didn’t party. I’m her boring friend. I needed my beauty sleep. I had to be into work early this morning.”
“Boring is good on a work night, but she’s not always so quick to make that choice. Whatever the case, I need a temp if she can’t get into work tomorrow.”
He’s right. She doesn’t always make that choice, especially when rocker boy is in town. “I’ll get one on standby. And I’ll try to reach her.”
I walk him down the hall and leave him to knock on Jensen’s door on his own, hurrying to my desk to call Katie again, frustrated when her voice mail sounds instead of her. “Katie,” I say softly but no less fiercely. “I need to talk to you.” I end the call and a gnawing feeling of unease grinds through my belly and sets me into action.
Heading to the elevator, I travel to the floor I know Katie stayed on last night. A few minutes later I’m at the door, knocking, and I’m really not sure why. When no one answers, I seek out a maid and ask about the room to discover it shows checked out but has not been cleaned. Thanks to my role with Meredith, the maid happily opens the door for me, and I stare down at the birthday card I’d left. Snatching it up, I charge into the suite and around a corner, through the living area to the bedroom, and as I suspect, the bed is untouched. Katie left before her and her problem rocker ever made it that far. I sink down on the edge of the bed and I don’t know why but that “alone” feeling has returned, and while it has always been empowering and welcome in the past, like last night, it’s neither of those things now. It’s just...empty. Frustrated at myself, I stand up and head for the door. I have no idea what is up with me or why this Katie situation is messing with me so badly, but it has to stop.
Quickly, I lock up the room and head to the kitchen, returning to the executive offices with food in hand and using the walk toward Jensen’s office to try to figure out the best way to ask for my phone. I reach his door as Frank exits, his gaze awkwardly cutting from mine. Frowning, I enter the office and Jensen motions me forward. And he doesn’t look away, watching every step I take with excruciating attention to detail.
I set the bag on his desk, and somehow my gaze radiates to his naked left hand as he accepts it and sets it out of the way. He’s not married, or he is and he doesn’t wear a ring. And it shouldn’t matter, not after all that’s happened today, but it does. It matters.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, and my gaze jerks guiltily to his, the connection washing over me in a warm, wicked way no man has ever so easily created in me.
Eager to distract from my reaction, I blurt out, “Did you find my phone by chance?”
Unfazed, he replies with, “It’s in my room.”
In his room, where I’m not about to ask him to take me. “You’ll bring it tonight? I don’t want to travel without it.”
“I’d have brought it today if I’d have known who you were,” he states, sounding matter-of-fact and completely believable. He reaches in his desk and slides a card in front of me. “That’s the contact information for the driver I hired to take us to the airport. He’ll be here at four o’clock to take you home to pack so we can leave here by five.”
I wet my lips and accept the card. “How many days will we be gone?”
“Three. I figure we can hit two of the Florida properties in a day and end in the Hamptons.”
“Yes. Okay. I’ll be ready at five.”
“Good,” he says simply, offering nothing more, but there is something in his eyes that burns through me. Desperate to hide my reaction to this man, I give him my back, and I am once again intensely aware of him tracking my every movement. Lord help me, I’m going on the road with a man who I almost slept with, who also holds my job and many others in his hands. Worse, despite knowing these things, and even despite my suspicions of him and his earlier accusations of me whoring around to climb the corporate ladder, I’m pretty sure he could melt me with a touch of his hand. My normal calm and controlled life is swimming in a shot glass of tequila.
* * * *
I fully intend to be at the car Jensen ordered by four o’clock, but on my way downstairs, I’m stopped by an angry employee, followed by an angry customer in the lobby, both of which puts me in the car at 4:30. I’m leaving without a phone, unless Jensen really has mine and returns it. By the time I get home and start to pack, I realize I really don’t know what I want to take, which makes me want to take everything. Unwilling to embarrass myself with more than one medium bag, though, I do my best to plan.
Glancing at my watch and realizing it’s almost five already, I feel the urgency to return to the hotel and decide to lug my bag downstairs on my own rather than go get help from the driver. A daunting task as I stare at the se
ven floors of narrow steps from my apartment door. The building might not have an elevator, but in the five years since my grandmother passed and left it to me, I’ve often happily grinned and beared the sometimes rough climb to my door.
I manage three floors before I’m not only panting from the effort to keep from tumbling the rest of the way, but have also scraped my leg from knee to ankle. Leaning on the suitcase, I try to catch my breath. The sound of hurried footsteps has me cringing, wondering how I’m going to let someone by when my suitcase takes up the entire narrow path, when Jensen appears at the bottom of my present level.
“Woman,” he reprimands, loosening his tie on the word. “Why didn’t you call the driver?”
“I don’t have my phone and I didn’t want to keep you waiting. How did you even get in here? The door requires a code.”
“Your neighbor liked me more than you seem to.”
“You must have been nicer to whoever he or she was than you were to me this morning.”
“Nice is overrated,” he comments, quickly taking two steps at a time, closing the distance between us with such effortless grace that I am breathless all over again when he stops in front of me. “Nice is for pussies.”
I gape. “That was—”
“True,” he supplies, his eyes dancing with amusement, the hard shell he’d worn all day softening unexpectedly as he adds, “And as you can see, I wasn’t about to wait on you to show up. I thought you might have changed your mind about the trip.”
“Regardless of your earlier accusations, I’m good for my word. I said I’d go and I’m going.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. It is, but for the record, I don’t remember being given a choice.”
“There’s always a choice, but you’ve made yours and I’ve made mine. You’re coming with me.” He reaches for my bag and our hands collide, electricity darting up my arm.
I jerk my hand back as if burned. His lips quirk in that sexy way I’d noticed at the bar, as if he knows how he affects me and likes it. “I’ll take the bag.”