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I glance at the clock on the bedside table. “Give me thirty minutes.”
“Of course, Mr. Carrington.”
I hang up and strut over to the bathroom to take care of business before I jump in the shower.
The downside to living in a hotel is there’s no sense of home. It’s not cozy. There’s no warmth, no feeling of family. My suite is two levels and includes a kitchenette and dining room. But there’s no photographs or papers stuck to the refrigerator with a giant colorful magnet. There’s no personal artwork, no lived in look.
Then again, I never had that growing up, either. So, really, this is like home for me.
From birth, I’ve been surrounded by household staff—cleaners, cooks, landscapers, drivers, hell, we even had a butler once—a phase my mother went through.No hugs, no birthday parties with friends from school.
And nothing changed no matter how much trouble I got into, just begging for them to lift their heads and take notice. At least they allowed me to attend public school.
I’m wandering out of the bathroom, hot mist trailing behind me like a ghost, when there’s a sharp rap on the door.
“Room service, Mr. Carrington.”
Securing the fluffy white towel around my waist, I stroll out of the bedroom, down the stairs and across the living area to the door. After I disengage the deadbolt and lock, I swing the door open.
Gus is delivering it himself this morning. “Must not be too busy in the kitchen.”
“We had a quiet moment.” He rolls the cart past me. I let the door close on its own steam as I follow him into the main living area, waiting while he positions the cart near the chair where he knows I like to sit. He pours the coffee but leaves the dishes covered. “Anything else, Sir?”
“Nope. I’m good, Gus. Thank you.”
We make small talk as I walk him out, and then I’m alone again in my room, the smell of crisp bacon sneaking out from beneath the silver warming lid.
I doctor my coffee, then sip the hot, fresh brew. My eyes drift closed, and a sigh falls from my lips. Only the best.
Okay, time to scarf down some breakfast, and then I need to run downstairs to grab a few reports from the main office before I tackle a little work.
An hour later, dressed more casually than typical for a work day, I step off the elevator and reach for my phone in my back pocket. While descending from my penthouse suite, I listened as guests chatted about their trip to the city.
One young couple gushed about their imminent honeymoon. Their excitement to visit Maui got me craving some warmer weather and sand myself. I should head to an island for a few days. I’m sure I can find a beach bunny wherever I land to keep me occupied.All I’d have to do is buy her a few trinkets in exchange.
I scour through my phone contact list for the pilot I use as I push open the door to the hotel office area. I send off a quick message to confirm his availability.
At the last second, I remember why I rarely come down here. Two feet over the threshold, Celeste is right up in my personal space, her heavy floral perfume clogging my nose, a sneeze already building. Today she’s in white leather, and are those handcuffs in her ears? Little handcuff earrings.I can’t contain the eye roll.
Holding the phone to my ear, pretending I’m mid-call, I take two steps back. One night with this woman was more than enough. An hour into our date, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake giving in to her suggestion we go for a drink. She set her sights on me and has not backed down. She even followed me to a club one night, and used that information to try and worm her way between my sheets.
The woman is constantly propositioning me. She’d have me tied to a bedpost if those cuffs were authentic. Not that the idea is abhorrent, on the contrary. But she’s not my type.
While I may want a life partner deep down, I’m not interested in somebody who’s only interested in draining my bank account or who’s twenty years older. It’s too bad she’s so fucking great at her job. This place would fall apart if it weren’t for her. As my Hotel Manager, she runs a tight ship, but she’s fair. She knows what she’s doing and came highly recommended. They just never warned me she was a starved cougar on the hunt. I can trust her in every aspect of my hotel business. I can’t trust her behindanyclosed door.
“Elliott,” she purrs. “I was over the moon when I heard you were here. I’ve missed you the last few weeks.”
That would be by design. “I don’t know what you mean, Celeste. We talk almost every day.” I push past her and head to my office. Not that I work from this desk too often, but the hotel’s records are here, so unfortunately, I have to make an appearance occasionally.
She’s right on my heels as I circle my large glass-topped desk. She’s tall for a woman, only a couple of inches shorter than my six-three, so in heels that puts her at eye level. I can feel her hot breath on the back of my neck. Even my dick is trying to shrink into hiding.
“Listen, I’m really sorry, Celeste. But I just came down to grab the quarterly reports I sent to the printer last night.” When I return to my room, I’m putting in an order for a printer to be delivered to my suite. “I’m heading out of town for the weekend and wanted some reading material for the flight.”
“Don’t you want company instead?” She dances her fingers up my arm.
Did she just squeeze my bicep? I jerk out of her hold, desperate not to be rude. My mother instilled impeccable manners in me. Still, I don’t want to spend my morning dodging Celeste’s blatant sexual innuendos and grabby hands. “Um, no, not this time.”
“You’re looking very casual today. Do you have time for lunch before you leave? We could dine in your room.”
