by Mary Davis
“I’ll think about it.” He had to keep things professional with Aimee. He could not step over that line with her, or he’d never go back. He would spiral down into that romance hole, and then where would his plans and dreams of running the Grand be? He would get so caught up in Aimee he would lose sight of everything he’d worked so hard to gain.
❧
Aimee stood beside their desks. Mardi Gras beads? Not a spontaneous bone in his body? She found that hard to believe. Everyone had to be able to be impulsive sometimes.
Dillon looked up. “Are you ready to go to lunch?”
“Yes.” If given the right motivation, she was sure he possessed some degree of spontaneity, some extemporaneous reaction.
He closed his folder and came to stand next to her. “I can’t get around you, but if you move toward the door, we can both get out.”
“Smile.”
“Why?” A natural smile pulled at his mouth.
“Call it an experiment.” Aimee reached over and poked her finger into one of his dimples.
He pulled her hand away from his face. “Why did you do that?” His hand was warm and strong around hers.
“I wanted to. I always wondered what it was like to do that. And. . .”
He studied her with squinted eyes. “And what?”
“I wanted to see if you were capable of doing something impromptu.”
“I’m not. There are less errors and mistakes when things are well planned out.”
She smiled. He was very capable of spontaneity.
“Why are you smiling?”
She marveled that he had no idea what he’d done. “Because you disproved your statement even before you made it.”
“How so?”
“You grabbed my hand away from your face.”
“That was a reflex.”
She raised her hand, which he was still holding. “And this?”
His eyes widened slightly, and he released her hand. “Let’s just get lunch.”
She stepped out of his way.
Lunch was spent in relative silence, as was the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t really an uncomfortable silence, more like Dillon brooding over the spontaneity issue.
It was nearing the end of the workday, and she was ready to try her experiment again. Only this time, if she didn’t succeed, she wanted to be able to go home for the day. There was more at stake this time. “I was thinking about what you said, that your grabbing my hand was just a reflex. Okay, I’ll give you that one.” She pushed out of her chair and came around to his. “But I still think everyone is capable of spontaneity at some point. I mean, stuff happens, and you just have to react. So let’s test my theory. Stand up.”
“Aimee. I still have work to do.”
“Well, if you are spontaneous, this won’t take long at all.” She pulled on his arm. “I’m not going away.”
He heaved a heavy sigh and stood. “This isn’t going to work.”
“Be positive. Say, I can be spontaneous.”
“I’m positive this isn’t going to work.” He gave her a smile, and his dimples pulled in.
So cute.
“I really need to get back to work.”
She would ignore that for now. “Okay. It’s really simple. All you have to do is do what I tell you when I tell you. It’s that easy.”
He sighed. He was exhibiting a great deal of patience and tolerance.
“Ready?”
“No. Can I get back to work now?” He tried to sit down, but she pulled his arm to keep him standing.
“Okay, this isn’t something you would normally do, so you just have to do it without thinking. Because if it was something you would normally do, it wouldn’t show that you can be spontaneous.” She took a deep breath. “Kiss me.”
His eyes widened.
“Don’t think about it—just do it.”
He just stared at her. He didn’t utter a sound or even blink for that matter. And now he had thought too long. He’d thought, period. The moment had passed.
She swallowed hard. “You win.” She left his office and headed for the ladies’ room. Katie was just leaving as she entered. She tried to blink back the moisture so her colleague wouldn’t notice.
She took a wad of tissue from the stall and dabbed at her eyes as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Well, Aimee, you gave it a shot.” She had hoped by pushing him that she could break through the barrier with him. She had been sure all he needed was a little push to get him out of his self-imposed rut.
She liked Dillon more than she had liked a guy in a long time. More than she had liked Brent Walker, who sent her nephew to college. Dillon was the kind of guy she needed in her life to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground—at least sometimes. He knew what he wanted. He wasn’t drifting. She was like a feather on the wind of God’s breath. She didn’t know where she would eventually land, but she knew God had a destination in mind. She had hoped it would be here.
Maybe it was somewhere else. She was tired of floating and just wanted to land someplace, even for a little while. Dillon had seemed like the bulwark in the wind.
❧
Dillon stumbled back into his desk chair. “You made a mess of that one, Thurough.” You could have kissed the only woman who ever made you consider altering your life plan. Instead, you just stared at her. You really can’t do anything spontaneous.
He dropped his head into his hands, raking his fingers through his hair.
Her spontaneity was that spark of life he had let go out when his mother died—a part of living he’d denied. Having her around was almost like being among the living, like glimpsing through the frosted window at the family sitting around the Thanksgiving table. He could see it, but he wasn’t a part of the celebration. If he stood long enough, maybe he’d be invited inside.
He could do both, couldn’t he? Pursue a relationship as well as his career?
Ten
Dillon sat at his desk wearing a T-shirt and shorts.
Aimee stood in the doorway in a long, black dress. “Let’s try this again.”
“Try what?”
She sashayed to his desk. “Stand up.”
He stood.
“Kiss me.”
He cupped her face in his hands and obeyed.
He pulled back, and her eyes were still closed.
She opened them slowly. “Do that again.”
He wrapped his arms around her and thoroughly kissed her, standing on the hotel porch at sunset.
Dillon sat up with a start, gasping for air. Where was he? He looked around his dark room. He swung his legs off the side of his bed and shoved his hands into his hair.
She was definitely getting under his skin.
❧
Dillon sat at his desk. . .in a suit. Aimee hadn’t come in yet this morning. He kept picturing her in that black dress. She probably didn’t even own a black dress. And she certainly wasn’t going to ask him to kiss her again. Not after the way he acted. Or rather his lack of action.
Maybe he could goad her into daring him to do it again. He would make a plan of just how to get her to do that. He could engage her in a discussion on spontaneity and insist he had some and hope she asked him to kiss her again.
What was he thinking? Professional. He had to remain professional with her. Kissing her would not promote a good working relationship. Everything afterward would be awkward.
Either that or they would head down the relationship path. That might be okay—but it didn’t fit into his plan. If he divided his time between work and a girlfriend, as Steve had suggested, he would slip in his job.
He looked up when Steve knocked on his open door.
“You alone?” Steve peered behind the door.
What was Steve up to? “Yes.”
Steve walked to the desk. “I have some bad news for you.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Pretty-Boy is after your girl.”
Pretty-Boy was Steve’s reference to the owners’
nephew, Jovan, who had arrived last night in a flurry of people doing his bidding. And his reference to “your girl” must mean Aimee, since Steve thought they were an item.
Dillon hadn’t completely ruled out that possibility.
However, Jovan liked to have arm candy wherever he went. If he didn’t bring one with him, he usually picked one up here. Everyone knew Jovan was to be treated like royalty. Everyone but Aimee. He was to have whatever he wanted. But that didn’t include people. “Aimee is adult enough to turn him down.” He hoped she would.
“She did, but Pretty-Boy went to our boss’s boss. He’s talking to her now.”
Aimee could speak her mind. Man, could she ever. She could talk herself out the situation. He wasn’t concerned.
Well, not overly concerned.
❧
Dillon seemed a bit agitated when Aimee walked into the office. “You’re late.”
Maybe agitated didn’t cover it. “Mr. Howard asked to speak to me.”
The muscle in his jaw worked back and forth. “About what?”
What set him off? Maybe his mood was a reflection of her little experiment gone sour yesterday. She hitched her thumb toward the door. “Should I go out and come back in?”
He squinted in question. “What for?”
Wasn’t he a barrel of fun today. “Never mind.” She waved her hand in the air. “Apparently the hotel’s owners’ nephew is here and wants me to hang out with him for the day.” And after yesterday and Dillon’s current mood, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around Dillon today.
“You said no.” His words were a bit terse.
Maybe it was best if she wasn’t around him today. “I did at first. But Mr. Howard asked me to keep him company for the day as a hotel courtesy. He said it would be nothing more: show him around to the festival events, have dinner with him, and that was all.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
She was pretty sure of that but was afraid that Mr. Howard would find some excuse to get rid of her if she didn’t, and that would leave Dillon shorthanded when he needed her most. She mainly didn’t want to disappoint Dillon by leaving him in the lurch for the rest of the festival. “I know. Is it okay with you if I do this? You and I were planning on putting in an appearance at a few of the events. We’ll just have Jovan with us.” Was that a momentary glare from Dillon?
“I don’t think Jovan had a threesome in mind.”
“I don’t either. But I can be cordial and polite.” Even if he was being surly today. “So, if it is okay with you, I’m going to go meet him.”
“Fine. Go. Just be back for the lecture at eleven.”
Was that an order? She was planning on it anyway. “I will.” She turned and left with the definite impression it wasn’t really all right with him.
She walked into the main dining room, where Jovan Musser sat with a cup of coffee. His thinning brown hair hung in waves to his shoulders. He looked like a model or movie star. Could she just skip today? No Jovan. No Dillon. Just relax and shop all day.
He looked up at her and stood.
Too late. He’d seen her, so she walked over.
“Have a seat.” She sat, then he followed suit. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Jovan, about today.”
“I prefer Jove.” His voice, smooth like whipped butter, rich like Michigan maple syrup, poured over her. “And today is going to be great now that you have decided to join me.”
She liked neither butter nor maple syrup. She preferred Michigan blueberry syrup. “I’m not sure I have. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. This isn’t like a date or anything. It will be amicable-like. I’ll simply be escorting you around for the day. Well, not like escort.” She pulled her mouth into a grimace. She was making an idiot of herself. Maybe she should just leave.
He put his hand over hers. “I understand. Like friends. That’s fine with me. I just don’t like being alone on the island. I’m only here for today. I leave first thing in the morning.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then removed his. “Shall we go?” He stood and held out his hand to her.
She took it and stood. “I need to be back here at the hotel by eleven o’clock.”
His mouth cocked into a sly smile, and he winked. “A beautiful lady asking me to bring her back to a hotel; I don’t think I can resist that.”
She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.
He held up his hands. “Just joking. Where do you want to go?”
She studied him for a moment and decided she believed him. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen much of the island. I’ve spent most of my time here at the hotel.”
“Then let me give you a tour of this grand island oasis.” He walked her up to the front desk. “Can you order me a carriage for the day?”
Katie, behind the desk, shifted her gaze from Jove to Aimee, then to the phone. “Do you want a driver, or will you be driving it yourself?”
“I’ll drive.”
She pressed numbers on the phone. “It should be out front in twenty minutes or so.”
“We’ll be in the salon. Have me paged when it arrives.” Jove turned to her. “This way.” He held out his hand and directed her.
Once the carriage arrived and they were aboard, Jove headed around the perimeter of the island.
“So what brought you to the Grand?”
She really didn’t want to tell him about her nonexistent family treasure. He would likely offer to help her and even force the issue to help her. All so he could get something in return. He seemed the type. She would rather not find the treasure than have him feel like she owed him a favor. “I have heard about the Grand Hotel since I was a little girl. My great-great-grandfather was on the construction crew. I wanted to come to see all he had done.” And what he’d left behind. “So why did you come?”
“Bored mostly.”
“How can you be bored? Don’t you like your job?”
“I don’t have a job. Don’t need one. I do whatever I want.”
“That’s why you’re bored. You have no purpose, no direction.” Dillon had purpose and direction. And the drive to get where he wanted to go. So much so, people around him didn’t seem to matter as much. He wasn’t mean or rude; he just didn’t let anyone inside his emotional bubble. He was probably afraid of getting hurt, afraid to lose them.
“So what makes Aimee Mikkelson so different?”
Jove’s question pulled her away from thoughts of the one she wished she were with. “Different?”
“I don’t want to sound arrogant, but women fall all over themselves to be with me. I’m never without female companionship if I don’t want to be. I had to go to your boss’s boss to get you to give me the time of day. I wanted to know why you weren’t interested. Do you have a boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?”
“None of the above.” She wouldn’t mind seeing what it would be like to be Dillon’s girlfriend. But he’d made it clear yesterday that he wasn’t interested in her that way. Having a break from him today would be good.
“So why are you resistant to me. What makes you tick?”
Tick? Was this an opportunity? Lord? “You really want to know what makes me tick?” She cocked her head sideways to look at him.
“I most certainly do.”
“The Lord.”
He raised his eyebrows. “As in the Lord God Almighty, lightening bolts and judgment over the world?”
“If you want to put it that way, yes. I think of His loving side. The part of Him who cares about every little detail of my life. A God so powerful He created the universe and everything in it, yet still cares if I’m upset over an insensitive word or action. Who loved me so much He sent His only Son to die for my wickedness, so I could live with Him in heaven one day.”
“I heard those fairy tales, too.”
“And you chose not to believe?”
He shrugged. “I grew out of them.”
“You can’t outgrow God.”
He gave he
r one of those I’ll-humor-her smiles. “I have no use for religion.”
“I’m sure God would have a use for you, if you’d let Him.”
He chuckled. “I like my life the way it is.”
No, he didn’t. “Even if you’re bored with it?”
“I’m not bored right now.” He cast a sideways glance at her. “You want to stop and get out? Walk around?”
She turned up her wrist to look at her watch. It was getting close to eleven. “Actually, can we pick up the pace and go faster?”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I’m supposed to be back by eleven for the historical lecture.”
“Boring.”
She chuckled. “It doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to be there.”
“I could call the hotel and have you relinquished of all your duties for the day.”
She already was, but she didn’t want to tell him that. “I want to go to this. The hotel is important to me.”
He smiled, then snapped the reins. The horse started trotting, and they pulled up in front of the hotel at one minute to eleven.
“Hold that carriage for me until we return,” Jove ordered Kevin at the doors. It was Wednesday and Henry’s day off. She was glad for that for some reason. She guessed she didn’t want Henry to see her with Jove.
She rushed to the room where the lecture was to be held and slipped in just as the speaker was beginning his presentation. Aimee slid in next to Dillon in the last row that was nearly empty. “Sorry for cutting it so close.”
Jove sat next to her. He reached across her and shook Dillon’s hand. “It was my fault.”
Dillon gave a quick nod of acknowledgment and focused back on the speaker.
After about five minutes, Jove leaned toward her ear. “Are you bored yet?”
“No,” she whispered back.
After another minute, he asked again, “How about now?”
Dillon turned and gave her a stern look.
“No.” She tried to shush Jove with a glance.
Jove gave her a puppy-dog look. He wasn’t going to give up until they left. Besides, she would likely miss half the lecture anyway, with him either talking or pouting.
