“I value your feedback,” Roman said. “I’ll have to take a look at the security footage and see what Karri’s up to.”
Fox looked up to the ceiling. Oh, right, pull the footage. How idiotic of me to suggest that you drag your old bones downstairs and personally interact with your daughter.
“Now, let’s get right down to the matters at hand,” Roman said. “Two things. First—Jill audited the expense reports from the last year. Somehow they’re not adding up.”
“What do you mean—not adding up?” Fox had a degree in Finance and he meticulously prepared those reports himself. There’s no way he’d made a mistake. And all the money coming and going from the business account was personally handled by yours truly, right down to Roman’s paycheck. With the economic downturn, Roman had lost the tile business that had made him a wealthy man. Fox had given him an office job and a computer to sit in front of here at Hypnotic. That way he could at least feel like the almighty businessman he once was.
“She said it’s off by a huge amount,” Roman added, “but she’ll go over all the numbers with you later.”
Fox blew out, ran his fingers through his hair. One more thing to add to his to do list. “What else?”
“She wants to spend the night in our hotel. Says she needs to evaluate things from a guest’s perspective.”
“Are you serious?” Jill wasn’t worth what Roman had Fox overpaying her. This cemented Fox’s notion that she conjured up unnecessary recommendations simply to stay on the payroll.
“Yes, and she wants to stay right here on the fifth floor. Starting tonight. I already spoke with Erickson, and he said she could use his suite.”
Fox stood, and his chair rolled back. “What the hell? The fifth floor is exclusive to the Kemp family.” Even the elevator to that floor was private. Although they had their own houses, on occasion, any one of them might work late and wind up staying at the hotel.
“She said it would make it easier to quickly report her findings to either you or me.”
“And you’re okay with that? Absurd as it is?”
“Why not?” Roman said flippantly.
Fox sensed there was something more to it. Roman was slick, underhanded at times. Could he have a personal motivation? It certainly wasn’t because Jill was a professional dresser. Her business attire was about as subtle as the sun, more body parts exposed than covered. The woman was a beast, completely ridiculous looking with her flaming red hair and matching lipstick, liposuctioned–too–many–times waist, and breasts so enlarged it was a small miracle she stayed upright.
And then there was Lea. He wanted her to stay so badly. He needed to make a better second impression. But how would he accomplish that worrying that Jill was lurking around the corner. He’d look jumpy like he was guilty of something. What would he tell Lea if she asked what Jill was doing on the family floor? He was already juggling plausible explanations in his head. Before a situation arose, he had to head this off, which meant telling Roman all his business about Lea. Not that there was much to tell—yet.
“Look, Father,” Fox said calmly. “I know we don’t often engage in small talk, but I have to tell you, I’ve met someone whom I’m very interested in.”
Roman opened a side drawer on his desk and poured a brandy. Fox craned his neck attempting to guide Roman’s attention back to him. “She’s staying in my room— hopefully—while she’s in town,” he continued. “Jill could royally screw that up for me.”
Roman shrugged. Screwing the cap back on the bottle, he never looked up. “Tell the bitch you’ve got business with Jill. It’s the truth; I told her you would correspond with her about the expense reports at some point while she’s here.”
Fox should cut ties with Roman right now—once and for all. If he wasn’t his father, he would’ve long ago. As hard as Roman was making Fox’s life, he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him to get the hell out of it.
“That’s perfect,” Fox said. “You’re unbelievable. I don’t know how my mother could stand you long enough to conceive three of your children. How Erickson, Karrigan, and I turned out halfway decent is beyond my comprehension.”
Roman didn’t flinch. Resilient old bastard.
It’d been a while since Fox had said something so cruel to his father, but it wasn’t the first time.
Wouldn’t be the last, either.
CHAPTER THREE
—Lea
After dinner, Karrigan ushered Lea onto one of two glass–encased elevators, which led to the hotel bar. After stepping off the elevator, a short catwalk led to the open–concept bar, which seemed to float above the hotel’s lobby, offering stunning views from above and below.
Karrigan pulled out a black velvet covered chair at the bar and tapped the seat. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thanks,” Lea said. Before she sat, she carefully draped her cardigan over the back of the seat.
“Hey, Martin,” Karrigan called to the bow tie wearing bartender with the cropped black hair and five o’clock shadow. He was okay looking in a rugged sort of way. “Hook up my friend, Lea here, with a Beacon. I’ll have a Bud Light.”
“Coming right up, Karri.” He put two napkins on the bar and turned around to grab a glass off the shelf.
“What’s a Beacon?” Lea asked Karrigan.
“Cherry Grey Goose, Cherry St. Germaine, and a splash of Lime Juice. It’s awesome.”
“Sounds good to me.” Lea was an avid coffee drinker and that was about it. Alcoholic beverages were foreign to her but anything cherry, she presumed, had to be good. And she could stand to loosen up some before Fox returned.
Lea almost panicked when Karrigan began unbuttoning her long–sleeved, pressed, tan shirt. Then she noticed the red tank top underneath. Karrigan removed the button–up and set it on the chair beside her. “God, I hate having to dress so prim and proper for the front desk. I can wear whatever shoes I want though. She raised the leg of her khaki pants and wiggled her Converse pump where Lea could see. “People can’t see behind the counter.”
“I noticed your shoes earlier,” Lea said. “Very, very cool.”
“Thanks,” Karrigan said with a big smile. “Everyone around here frowns on my fashion sense, but sorry for them.” She took a hairband out of her pants pocket and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Streaks of teal came into view that hadn’t been visible when her hair was down.
Martin walked up with mixed drink and beer in hand and put them on the napkins. “Here you go, ladies. I like your new streaks,” he said to Karrigan. “Blue looks better on you than pink, I think.”
“Thanks.”
Martin scooted down to Lea and slid his hand across the bar, capturing hers. While kissing the back of her hand, he peered up at her and gave her a wink. “How do you do?”
Lea blushed, smiled. “Fine, thank you.” God, she was pathetically impressionable. Because of her self–imposed dating exile, it’d been forever since she’d received any attention from men. Twice in one day was flattering—almost to the pointing of overwhelming her. The bartender wasn’t in Fox’s league in the looks department, and still he had affected her with his suave greeting.
In the background there was a ding, followed by a voice. “That’ll do, Martin.
Lea turned and saw Fox. At the same time, she felt Martin’s grip release from her hand.
Fox had just stepped off the elevator, and as he made his approach, he kept his eyes on Martin, who was scurrying to the other end of the bar.
As if that were her cue, Karrigan jumped down from her stool and moseyed to a small table in the bar where two guys were sitting, and pulled out a chair.
Fox said, “Was Martin bothering you?”
“No, not at all. Why do you ask?”
Fox was still eyeing Martin. “There’s something about that guy. I hired him a few months ago. It was Christmastime then and we desperately needed an extra hand, so I brought him on against my better judgment. He’s never done anything wrong, but the
re’s something suspicious about him.”
“Don’t worry. He was just being courteous.”
Fox forced his eyes away from Martin down to Lea. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Oh, my, yes. Your brother is an excellent chef. I’d love to tell him myself how much I enjoyed it.”
Fox’s dark eyes twinkled. A confident grin found its place on his lips. Lips that Lea would love to kiss. Just once. And then find a way to make him forget it ever happened.
“Does that mean you’re accepting my offer?”
“I thought about it, but I can’t. It’s not practical to stay somewhere else when I already have reservations where the conference is being held.”
“Regrettably, I do understand,” Fox said. “From behind his back, he brought out a medium–sized gold box with a bow on top. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Bourbon cake cupcake. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”
“Thank you.” While Fox sat in the chair next to her, Lea opened the lid to uncover a large, elaborately decorated cupcake. The swirl of icing was as high as the cupcake itself and sprinkled with golden flecks that matched the box it came in.
“Yum, smells delightful. I can’t wait to get into this later. I think I’ll wait till I get back to my hotel, because I might make a mess when I cut into it.”
“Cut into it? Don’t most people just bite into it?”
Lea shook her head. “Not me. I turn it into a sandwich.”
“Do what?”
“You have a bakery here and none of your employees have ever made a cupcake sandwich?”
“No, but if you show me how, I’m sure I can pass along the information.”
“All right, but it’s messy. Can you get me a knife?”
Fox held up a hand and yelled for Martin.
Martin rushed down to them. “Yes, sir?”
“I need a knife. And a Miller Light.” He looked at Lea. “Do you want another…” He gestured to her empty glass.
Lea was a little embarrassed at how fast she’d swooshed down her drink. She didn’t even remember sipping it. Either she was just nervous, or it was plainly the best drink ever. “I think Karrigan called it a Beacon.”
“And a Beacon,” Fox told Martin.
“Coming right up.” Martin got busy behind the bar.
“What in the world is a Beacon?” Fox asked Lea.
“Something Karrigan suggested. I tell you, Martin’s a darn good bartender because it’s as yummy as she said it would be. Not that I drink much.”
“I don’t know if Martin should get the credit; Karrigan probably taught him how to make it.”
Lea looked at Karrigan across the room. Half of her body was leaning across the small oval table, elbow on top, her face in her palm inches from one guy’s face who, by the look on it, was clearly enjoying her company.
After a minute, Martin returned with the drinks, and he set the knife down on a napkin.
“I really like your sister. She’s quite a character.” Lea picked up her glass and took a huge gulp, drinking half of it down.
“She’s a social butterfly, for sure, but I worry about some of the people she hangs out with.” Fox took a swig off his beer, then he picked up the knife and handed it to Lea. “Demonstrate the making of a cupcake sandwich, please ma’am.”
Lea liked his southern accent. It was barely detectable most of the time unless he said certain words or certain things like he just did. Now, that made her heart flutter. She took the knife from his hand and pushed the box his way. “All right, but I’ll let you handle getting it out of the box.”
While Fox worked the edges of the box apart, Lea considered all the cupcake sandwiches, ice cream, and chocolate she’d mindlessly put down since her divorce. She’d gained fifteen pounds, but hadn’t worried about it… until now. Watching Fox carefully take apart the box without knocking over the cupcake, visions of him taking off her clothes flashed through her mind. But what would he think of her when she stood naked before him?
Stop it, Lea. Men are bad for the soul.
Besides, her recently acquired vajiggle jaggle was not beautimous, as June on her favorite reality show, would say.
Fox pushed the edges of the box down flat, leaving the cupcake standing upright. “There you go.”
Lea steadied the cupcake with one hand and sliced a horizontal cut through the center of the cake. She took off the bottom portion of the cake, and put it on top of the icing, squishing it down. “There you go. A cupcake sandwich. A huge cupcake sandwich.”
“Well, aren’t you clever,” Fox said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“It definitely makes for a neater eating experience.”
“Well, who goes first?”
“What? You aren’t suggesting that I try to eat this monster in public, are you?” Lea asked.
“Come on. It looks too good. One of us has to at least sample it.”
“You’re right,” Lea admitted. “You go first.”
Fox picked it up with both hands like a Whopper and took a huge bite. He didn’t seem to mind the mess he’d made. “Mmm.” With his eyes closed, he chewed with blatant disregard for the crumbs on both sides of his mouth. Setting the cupcake down, he said, “Damn. That was better than anything I’ve ever tasted.”
Lea could tell he meant it, too. And any man who enjoyed sweets as much as he did had the makings of the perfect man. “I can see that you enjoyed it. You act as though you’ve never had anything from your own bakery.”
“I haven’t. It smells great when I’m walking by, but I’m always too busy to stop in. And when they brew up the coffee, you can smell it all throughout the hotel.”
“Oh my God, I loooooove coffee.”
“That’s good to know. I’ll have to remember that. Now go on.” Fox gestured to the remaining portion of the cupcake sandwich. “It’s your turn.”
“All right. It’s only fair, I guess.” Lea picked up the sandwich and put it up to her mouth. How in the world would she finagle this monster in like a lady? It wasn’t possible. So, she did the only other thing she could think of. She opened her mouth wide and shoved it in, holding her hand under her chin to catch the falling crumbs.
“Atta girl,” Fox cheered.
Lea laughed at Fox’s egging her on to make a pig of herself. The fact that she was a little tipsy made the whole situation even funnier. And when she attempted to bring her head back down, it felt awfully heavy. “Whoa.”
“You all right?” she heard Fox ask with visible alarm in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m…” She put both her arms on the back of her chair and tucked her chin against her chest. The room spun around her. She closed her eyes, and then she felt Fox put both hands on the outsides of her bare arms. His hands were warm, strong. Reminded her of the man in her dreams. In fact, she was sleepy now. Very. Sleepy. She couldn’t fight against her brick–heavy eyelids, so she let herself slip away knowing she was safe in the hands of the man in front of her.
CHAPTER FOUR
—Fox
“What the hell?” Fox felt the weight of Lea’s body go limp against his hands. He kept one hand on her arm and tapped her cheek with the other. “Hey, you all right? Lea, wake up.”
Nothing.
He grabbed her wrist and felt a pulse. She’d simply passed out cold.
He swept her into his arms and walked over to Karrigan and her group of grungy looking friends. “Hey, sis, what the hell was in that drink you ordered for Lea?”
“Grey Goose,” Karrigan said nonchalantly, like it was an everyday occurrence for Fox to walk around with a limp woman’s body in his arms.
“Then why’s she passed out like it was laced with something?”
“I don’t know, bro. Maybe she’s narcoleptic.”
“Big help.” Fox started to give her some snarky remark about the company she was keeping, but didn’t bother wasting his breath.
He whirled around and shot Martin a look. “Put o
ur drinks on my tab,” he said, as he walked in front of the bar. He didn’t have solid proof, but he’d put money on it that Martin had something to do with this. He’d get down to the bottom of it later.
Right now, tending to Lea took precedence.
Fox wasn’t concerned with running into any of the guests with a knocked–out woman in his arms. The private elevator to his floor was just to the right of the main elevator a few steps off the catwalk.
He stepped inside the elevator, pressed the button, and backed up against the rail. As it ascended, he couldn’t resist dipping his nose down into her hair. It was silky and clean smelling, and she was wearing a perfume that smelled like…like mints. It was different, subtle, and he absolutely loved it.
He stepped off the elevator and turned left, walked to the very last room at the end of the top floor. His room. His wallet with the magnetic strip entry card was in his back pocket. Knowing no other way to do it, he backed up to the door, lifted the edge of his jacket, and waited for a beep. The sensor picked up the magnetic strip through his clothes. As he was turning around to step inside, he noticed Jill at the opposite end of the hall entering Erickson’s room with her overnight bag. She looked his way and Fox made a disgusted nod hoping she’d notice. Then he walked inside.
He laid Lea down on the bed, slipped her shoes off her feet, and covered up her legs with the comforter. After a few seconds, she started snoring like a bear. Now he was certain that her drink had been tainted. That kind of snoring was no doubt a result of whatever relaxant she’d been given. He would keep a close eye on her tonight, monitor her breathing.
And Martin would be fired tomorrow.
First though, he had to get her out of that itchy dress. There’s no way she could possibly rest comfortably in that thing. Since she hadn’t brought anything inside the hotel other than her purse, Fox would have to find something of his to dress her in.
The Opium Room Page 3
