Inarticulate

by Eden Summers

  “I’ll escort you to his office.”

  The click of heels were the only sound as they walked down the long hall. Offices were on either side of them, each open door giving view to polished wood tables and floor to ceiling windows.

  “This is his office.” The woman stopped in front of a set of double doors and knocked twice before turning the handle. “Patrick, this is Savannah Hamilton from the Rydel Group.”

  The woman held the door wide and indicated for Savannah to proceed into the pits of hell.

  “Thank you.” She stepped over the threshold and smiled at the man behind the desk. Not unlike Mr. Rydel, Patrick had to be in his late fifties with black hair tinged with gray. He sat leisurely in his high-back leather chair, appraising her with a lazy gaze before pushing to his feet.

  “Welcome, Savannah.” He greeted her at the front of his desk with an outstretched hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.” The handshake was brief, a mere graze of palms that spoke volumes about his lack of respect for her position. “What can I do for you?”

  The question was fake. It would’ve been more truthful if he’d asked—What can I do to get you out of my office? But she smiled anyway, playing the same game.

  “I wanted to inform you of some concerns I have about the upcoming settlement.”

  “Concerns?” His brows knit tight. “I was under the impression that the transition was going ahead smoothly.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s not the case from my perspective. The communication between parts of your management team and my staff have come across as confronting, and at times almost threatening. I appreciate that it may be a misunderstanding due to the sterility of emails, but I also wanted to ensure Grandiosity wasn’t striving to lower our occupancy rates.”

  Patrick leaned back in his chair and sucked in a long, slow breath, his chest expanding wide with the inhalation. “That’s quite an assumption.”

  Her cell vibrated in her back pocket, short and sharp. A message from Keenan, no doubt. A warning not to do what she was doing. A sign to pull back on the reins.

  “Yes, it is.” She dropped the smile and raised her chin. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but these employees don’t deserve to be fearful of their future. They have families and responsibilities. They’re hardworking—”

  “Obviously, they don’t work hard enough to maintain a profitable business.”

  Shock made her stiffen and she rallied to contain her anger. Then her cell vibrated again, splitting her thoughts into two different disastrous categories. She should’ve expected the taunt, it was natural, but instead her mind was only half on the game, with the other half tangled in all things Keenan.

  “I think we can both agree that a lot of aspects are at play when a hotel fails to remain profitable.” She refused to throw her staff under the bus. Neither would she announce that the responsibility lay at her feet, or anyone else higher up the food chain. “Alienating future employees won’t help to increase productivity.”

  “No, but it would certainly weed out those who aren’t determined and willing to fight. We want strong staff, Savannah. We go through a rigorous employment process for every member of our team, from maintenance to management. Your people get to bypass those hoops. They should be thankful for that and eager to do whatever necessary.”

  She ignored another buzz from her cell, and tried to silence everything—her thoughts, her feelings, her anxiety—to concentrate on the man’s expression. She had to give him credit. He’d done well not to admit the obvious intentions of Grandiosity while also backhanding her with an insult.

  “I see.” She should’ve come prepared. This was stupidity on her behalf. Ridiculousness. She’d lost focus due to her surging libido, and now she was paying the price of pleasure. “I guess we’re done here.” She inched forward in her seat, preparing to stand. “I’ll make sure to send you a copy of the information I intend to forward to our legal team. I’m certain they’ll be interested to hear what’s been going on, especially when the communication from your company has resulted in resignations that are costing us money. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s cause to claim compensation.”

  Seconds ticked by, maybe minutes, with no response from Patrick. Then slowly, almost unperceptively, a sly grin spread across his lips.

  “You’ve got balls, Savannah—”

  “Actually, I don’t.” She squared her shoulders, preparing for round two. “I just have a lack of tolerance for bullshit.”

  He chuckled, long and low. “Well, whatever it is, I find it admirable.”

  She relaxed, marginally, and sank back into the chair. “I appreciate the admiration and hope your honesty comes with it.”

  His smile didn’t falter, nor did the position of his eyes. He remained still, composed. The only sign of his discomfort came from the lack of genuine friendliness staring back at her.

  “I’ll admit I’ve had very little to do with the upcoming changeover. I’ve been occupied with the development of another property in Chicago and entrusted the new Seattle property in what I thought were capable hands. But I’ll speak to my team and clear things up. I want to ensure any future communication is welcoming.”

  “Thank you.” Savannah released a silent sigh of relief. “Can I ask one more thing? Is it possible for your interview team to be more flexible with their schedule? I know most of the staff will be able to make their appointments, but I do have a few people who will have problems attending. Specifically, a woman who has an interview booked during the only time she can see her dying mother in hospital.”

  “Of course. That should go without saying.”

  “Actually, the email we received implied the opposite.” She waited for him to ask for clarification.

  He didn’t.

  “I assure you, anyone unable to attend will be accommodated.” He leaned forward, as if to stand and mark the end of their conversation. “Was that all?”

  She measured her breath while revenge and commonsense warred inside her chest. The ability to open her mouth and blame all of this on Penny was a simple sentence away. She could take her cousin down. Make her pay. Only, the moral high road was a bigger and brighter path. It was shiny and filled with gushing amounts of good karma.

  Stupid karma.

  “Yes, that was all.” Patrick would respect her more if she kept it short and sweet and simple. He didn’t want to know the intricacies of every badly worded email or who they came from. “Thank you for sparing the time to see me.”

  “Not a problem.” He stood and offered his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Savannah.”

  “You, too.” She raised to her feet and grasped his offering. “We should do it more often.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. He was like Mr. Rydel in so many ways, and she’d won him over just as quickly.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Black.” She dropped her hold and turned toward the door.

  “Wait a minute.”

  She paused and glanced over her shoulder as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a business card. “If you have any concerns in the future, please feel free to contact my son. I’ll make sure he sorts it out personally.”

  She grasped the card and the thick, formal font glowered back at her.

  Keenan Black

  Director of Operations

  An invisible hold grabbed her around the neck and tightened. The world crumpled to ash and memory after memory after memory flashed in her mind. Each thought was consumed with one man and a past that now seemed like a bad re-run of a B-grade horror movie.

  “Keenan.” She cleared her throat to dislodge the fist caught in her windpipe. “That’s an uncommon name.”

  “Yes. My son is quite unique,” he muttered, announcing an annoyance with his offspring that she currently reciprocated.

  “I bet he is.” She ran her finger over the embossed lettering and tried to deny the betrayal staring back at her. Keenan hadn’t held contempt for his position. He didn’t have a low-level job. He was the pomp and c
ircumstance behind her competitor’s hotel chain. He was the charm and the arrogance.

  He was Grandiosity.

  “You’ll need to send any concerns via email,” he continued. “My son doesn’t have the best communication skills and refuses to answer his phone.”

  No shit.

  “On second thought…” He reached for his drawer again and handed her another card. “Penelope is probably the best person to speak to. The two of them are joined at the hip. Practically husband and wife. If you have any concerns that need urgent attention, call her and she can convey the problem to Keenan.”

  Her head bobbed of its own accord. Husband and wife. That little fucker.

  “Thank you again for your time.” She cast him one last glance and wished the family resemblance hadn’t escaped her until now. He had Keenan’s stormy eyes. And that smirk. Christ. She should’ve noticed the picture perfect curve of lips the moment he shot that look her way.

  She measured her steps to the door, making sure she didn’t falter, or worse, run, no matter how much her rampant heart rate demanded it.

  She couldn’t deny Keenan was good. He was so damn good. He’d fucked her physically and professionally at the same time, which disputed the lifelong myth that men couldn’t do two things at once.

  He’d never worn a suit in front of her or anything expensive to tie him to his obvious wealth. He’d given her the impression he lived in the suburbs, for heaven’s sake. And how convenient that he could use the unfavorable competition between Rydel and Grandiosity as a scapegoat to never discuss his position.

  But why? Was he hoping he’d screw sensitive information out of her? Had he, without her noticing? Or was he helping Penny get revenge?

  Disgust crawled under her nails and crept along her skin like termites on a rampage. The overreaction must be due to the Seattle air. Or the stress of the settlement. She hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the overwhelming buzz of fractured emotions that currently overwhelmed her when the months with Spencer had ended.

  Jealousy made the muscles in her legs burn, which was pathetic in itself. She should be focused on the betrayal and lies. Instead, she stormed into the reception area, livid at how badly she’d underestimated his relationship with Penny.

  “Do you have something I could write with?” She suppressed a wince as her cell buzzed in her back pocket like a beaver trying to burrow its way into her ass.

  The receptionist held up a shiny silver pen.

  “Paper, too?”

  She needed to do something, anything, to get this humiliation off her back. Maybe other women would cry and blubber about the betrayal, but she preferred retribution. Unfortunately, she’d never had to achieve it while restrained by professional guidelines.

  If this was on a completely personal level, she’d like to think she could walk right up to Keenan, smile, and knee him in his perfectly proportioned cock. She hadn’t even envisaged that when Spencer had cheated on her.

  “Here you go.” The woman slid a sheet of paper along the countertop.

  Great. Now what was she supposed to do?

  Savannah stared down at the page, wishing she had the right mix of wit and spite to leave a perfect message for Keenan.

  Nothing came.

  She was blank and unable to leave, not without making her own strike. She needed him to be aware she wasn’t hurt. That her heart wasn’t a pulverized mess in her chest. It was all about perception. If nobody knew she was devastated, then it wasn’t real, was it?

  The elevator doors dinged from behind her and she bristled. Call it a sixth sense, or the uncanny remembrance of the sound of his footsteps, but she knew he was approaching her. And the tap, tap, tap of heels belonged to Penny.

  “On second thought, I don’t need these.” She slid the pen and paper toward the receptionist and turned to face her enemies with a beaming smile. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” Penny beamed back.

  Savannah wished she lacked the self-preservation stopping her from slapping the look off her cousin’s face. “You know what? Your boss is right. You do look like husband and wife. I guess I never pictured it because I was unaware that the two of you worked side-by-side all day long.”

  “You didn’t know?” Penny snickered. “That’s hilarious.”

  It probably was. Unfortunately, Savannah didn’t think she’d see the humorous side for quite some time.

  “I had no clue,” she admitted. “Apparently, being mute gives you the right to be a lying asshole.” She chanced a glance at Keenan. Until then, she hadn’t been able to meet his gaze and had no clue if he’d walked toward her with a sense of regret or satisfaction. All she knew now was that her insult had inflicted injury because he was glaring at her, his nostrils flaring at her low blow. “Have a lovely day.”

  She sauntered between them, determined to reach the elevator with her happy-go-lucky mask still in place. Only it faltered when Keenan’s grip encased her wrist. He held her, firm yet tender as he peered down at her.

  His eyes spoke to her. Those gray depths portraying a myriad of emotions from remorse to annoyance. But she’d been wrong before. For all she knew, he could be lapping up her suffering, devouring it like a heartbroken woman glutted on ice cream.

  “Fuck you,” she whispered through a dazzling smile.

  His jaw tensed and the calculation in his features turned feral.

  She yanked her arm away and moved gracefully to the elevator door, pressing the button with composure and poise. They were all watching her, she could feel it—Keenan, Penny, the receptionist, too.

  Lunch, dinner, and Christmas seemed to pass before the doors opened and she moved into the sanctuary of the small space. Keenan approached and she shook her head in a non-verbal fuck off. He didn’t listen.

  He stepped into the elevator and his arrogance stole all her oxygen.

  “I’m going to give you to the count of three before I cause a scene that neither of us wants.”

  His chin lifted as he remained still. Stubborn. She didn’t want to lose her shit. She wasn’t even sure what it would involve, but she continued the threat nonetheless.

  “One.” She swallowed over the anguish rising in her throat. “Two.” Her chest restricted, tight and unyielding. “Th—”

  He huffed out a breath and stepped back into the reception area. The doors began to close as she stared down the conviction in his eyes, spitting in the face of it with a glare more potent than arsenic.

  The descent to the ground floor was a blur marked by buzz after buzz of her cell. She wanted to ignore it. Her brain demanded it. Yet everything inside her forced her to retrieve the device and read his excuses as she entered the lobby.

  Keenan: Give me more time to handle it.

  Then—Savannah, I’ll speak to Penelope again. Please, let me take care of it.

  Followed by—Where are you? And. I need to see you.

  The last two were the real kickers—This isn’t what you think it is. And Give me a chance to explain.

  No, thank you. She was going to lock in option B and slink away with her tail between her previously spread legs.

  She needed to decompress and clear her head. This wasn’t merely a case of being duped. Her job was on the line. Her reputation and dignity, too. Grant, Kelly, and Amanda would expect her to come back with answers, not a declaration that she’d been sleeping with the enemy.

  The ultimate enemy.

  “Shit.” Did they already know?

  Keenan had spent the night in her room. He’d been given a keycard by one of the receptionists. Was that why the condoms in her trash had been such a big deal? Did everyone think she was working both sides?

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She ran on the toes of her pumps through the front doors of the building and closed her eyes to the piercing chill in the air.

  The situation was snowballing. One mighty avalanche that was burying her. Her world was disintegrating, her professional and personal life crashing right before her eyes. And it was
all because of one man.

  Keenan Black.

  The devil in wolf’s clothing.

  Email

  Date: 25th December

  Subject: My Father

  Dear Savannah,

  It’s Christmas and I’m without you. I thought this year would be different. I hoped I’d spend the day with someone I loved. But you’re not here.

  I never spend the holidays with my parents. I grew up in a household that demanded perfection. Clearly, I didn’t fit in.

  I was forced out of my comfort zone so many times that, as an adult, I now cling to the infrequent moments that I feel at home.

  And somehow I was always there with you.

  I guess I didn’t want to burst that bubble.

  Women have never been a challenge for me. They see the aesthetics and latch on like they would with any other man with wealth and a favorable smile. So I stopped smiling. I stopped showing my wealth, too. And I found you… not that I was looking.

  Do you know that you never once questioned my integrity? Not aloud. And every time we were together I wished you would.

  You trusted me, when you should’ve trusted Dominic.

  But you weren’t meaningless, Savannah.

  You were everything. You still are.

  Let me prove that to you. Just write back.

  Keenan

  Chapter Twenty

  Savannah had walked the Seattle streets for hours, without a coat, or common sense to notice she was numb to the freezing temperature. She was destined for hypothermia and, lucky her, that outcome had a silver lining because it was the ideal excuse to go home without admitting to the disaster she’d created.

  She was a failure. A spectacular, highly accomplished failure who didn’t want to admit her heart hurt more than her pride. But it did. The pound in her chest was rampant, the heat in her cheeks announcing her humiliation to the world.

  Her feet pounded the pavement until midday crept into late afternoon. Solace was nowhere to be found. Neither was understanding. She didn’t know why her emotions were a wrangled mess over something far more trivial than her broken relationship with Spencer. It had to be Penny—her conniving smile, her victorious taunts.