Hate That I Love You (Castille Hotel Series Book 0)

by Alexis Winter

  “Oh! Oh! I remember! You—you were the girl who sent me like fifty text messages and hit me up on Myspace!”

  “Stop waving your finger in my face, and it wasn’t fifty messages!” My resolve breaks and I shout back at him.

  “That cost me, like, fifty bucks, by the way. Nobody had unlimited texting back then!” He points his finger even harder at me.

  “Oh, boohoo; take it out of my check, ass-face!” Not my finest moment. I hate that I stoop to the level of name calling and yelling but I go with it.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” Vincent steps in looking between the two of us.

  “He started it!” I point toward Nate who has a dumbfounded look on his face.

  “I don’t give a shit, I’m ending it!”

  “She’s just a bitter hag that can’t get over the fact that I never called her back over a decade ago!”

  I can feel my face turn red. I’m sure I look like a god damn tomato right now, but I don’t care. Ten years of anger towards Nate fucking Baldwin has reached its breaking point and I’m about to blow.

  Vincent looks between the two of us in confusion before throwing his hands up in the air and letting out a load groan. “Look, I don’t give a flying fuck what happened between the two of you, but you better work it out, understand? I won’t have this yelling bullshit in my office. You’re both too god damn old for this shit!” I’ve only known him a week, but I’ve never seen him so animated or angry.

  He walks towards my door then turns around once again. “I mean it. Work it out.”

  I turn my fiery gaze back to Nate, who’s still standing in my office.

  “Did you seriously get a job here to stalk me and enact your revenge or whatever on me?” I want to smack the stupid, smug look off his face right now.

  “Do you hear yourself? Get fucking real, Baldwin, and get out of my office.” He just shakes his head and swats a hand through the air, muttering something I can’t make out under his breath before walking out.

  I release my shoulders that feel like they’re up by my ears and sit back down in my chair. His accusation wasn’t completely wrong…I mean, I did jump at the chance to interview here. I rub my temples, trying to release the tension that had built up. Why am I still so god damn attracted to him? I hate that even when he’s shooting off his idiotic mouth, I want to leap across my desk and smash my lips against his.

  “That’s it! I quit!” I yell, marching through the front door of Tessa’s apartment. I throw my bag on the couch and march straight to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine off the counter. I pop the cork and bring it to my mouth, forgoing a glass.

  “God almighty, what happened?” she says, pulling the bottle from my lips as a few drops run down my chin.

  I wipe them off unceremoniously with the back of my hand. “He’s still a complete festering douchebag asshole! That’s what happened.” I reach out and grab the bottle again from her.

  “Anyone ever tell you, you’re a bit overdramatic?” I roll my eyes, leaning against the kitchen island.

  “He didn’t even remember me, Tess. I reminded him and when he did seem to recognize me, it was because I was the ‘freshman who helped him pass tax law.’ I just…” I let my words trail off, not even sure what I had wanted to say.

  “Sweetie, I’m going to say this again, and I don’t mean it to be rude, but it’s been ten years. TEN YEARS. We go through this emotional cycle reliving the past every few years.”

  “I know bu—” Before I can finish, she cuts me off again.

  “Let’s go over the facts. It’s not like you guys were dating, and he wasn’t exactly a celibate angel. That man most likely got more ass than a toilet seat in an airport. Plus, you guys had both been drinking that night. Now I’m not excusing his behavior because him telling you that he liked you back and was going to call you and all, that was complete shit. He should have just manned up and made it clear it was a one-night thing.”

  I let her words sink in. There was a lot of truth in what she was saying, but I could never seem to accept it and let it go.

  “I hate…I hate that I’m still so attracted to him.” I bury my face in my hands as I admit it.

  “Well, coming from a lesbian, he was a tasty dish in college, and if he’s anything like Vincent who has aged like a fine wine, then I think it’s normal. I meant what I said though, Elise; I had no idea that he worked at the hotel. Vince and I don’t talk much about his business or his personal life. I stepped out on a ledge when I asked him about a blind date with you.”

  “I believe you. I think I’m just still not over the breakup with Brandon and seeing Nate brought a lot of old feelings back. I know it’s only been a few months since Brandon ended things with me, but we’d been together so long, I guess I just got comfortable and expected him always to be there.” Tess reaches out and rubs my arms before bringing me in for a hug.

  “I know, babe. How about you get changed, and we’ll celebrate the fact that you made it through your first week of work and cheers to a better, less dysfunctional working relationship with Nate. Oh, and you’re not quitting, or I swear I will post that video of you in college when you tried to drunk twerk on the bar top and fell off, destroying all the liquor bottles.”

  “Great, now I have a hostile home environment too.” I laugh. “And I looked hot that night so post away!”

  “You were drunk and thought you looked hot; you looked like a worm having a seizure, and your makeup was melting off your face. Go change!” She swats my ass, and I head off to my bedroom.

  4

  Nate

  “So, we going to talk about what happened today or should I let it go?” Vince looks over at me as he sets his beer down on the bar. I run my hands roughly over my face; I was waiting for him to bring it up.

  “Turns out I hooked up with Elise in college.”

  “Of course, you did,” Vince says laughing. He and I both weren’t exactly a one-woman type of man back in those days, not that he had changed much. We both enjoyed our fair share of ladies in college. Who didn’t?

  “I don’t even remember it, man. Or, I didn’t, I should say. She cornered me asking me if I remembered her or some shit. I thought for a minute she looked familiar when I saw a picture of her on her desk from a few years ago, but I would never have connected those dots. How can someone so hot be such a bitch?” I finish my beer and motion to the bartender for another.

  “Noticed that too, huh? The hot part, I mean, not the bitch. She seems very….uptight.” Vince says the last word slowly to emphasize it.

  “Yeah, no kidding. I can see why your date with her wouldn’t have gone anywhere. She probably would have made you sign a legal contract or NDA before banging her.” We both laugh.

  “She helped me in this law class senior year. I don’t remember the events of the night, but we hooked up. The one thing I remember vividly now is that she was fucking crazy. She sent me like fifty texts and an email or Myspace or something. Alarms went off in my head with that one.”

  “Well, whatever unresolved shit is between you two, either resolve it and move on or don’t, but do not bring it into work.”

  I take another long pull of my beer. “No kidding, man. I can’t work like that. The tension is unreal. I swear, I can see her plotting my murder in those big green eyes.”

  “Maybe be the bigger man, Nate. Like you said, it’s been ten years, so just send her some flowers; women love gestures like that. And with that, I’m out.” He tosses a few twenties on the bar top and waves to the bartender, “Goodnight Jamie.”

  I finish my beer, letting his suggestion sink in. I’m not a completely heartless bastard; it does bother me that I hurt her and never made it right. God knows it took me years to get over Carrie Felton from sophomore year of high school. The first girl I ever kissed, who then told everyone I tasted like old cheese and asshole. Can’t hurt to try to make things right. Come Monday morning, I’ll send her flowers and an apology and put this shit behind us
once for all.

  It’s Monday morning, barely past ten, and it already feels like longest week. I ordered flowers for Elise and made sure to have them delivered to her office this morning. I haven’t heard a response yet from her, so I am taking it as a good sign. I am just leaning forward to ping my executive assistant to see if she had heard anything when the large double doors to my office burst open.

  My assistant Josie is running after Elise, “You—you can’t just go in there!”

  “Is this supposed to be funny?” she shouts, waving a small card in my face.

  “Josie, it’s fine. You can shut the doors, please.” I ignore Elise as I addressed my assistant and sit back in my chair. Before I can register what is happening, Elise takes the box in her hands and turns it upside down, dumping the context of what looks like shredded flowers all over my desk.

  “Here’s what I think of your half-assed and cruel apology, if you can even call it that!”

  “What the fuck, Elise?” I slam my hands down on my desk, beyond irate at this point. “What the hell is wrong with you? Is a rabid rat inside your brain chewing away all of the parts that make you act like a rational human being?”

  “Dear Elise, here’s a lovely bouquet of flowers as an apology for my behavior. I thought it was only appropriate to give you flowers since you so eagerly gave me yours.” She throws the card in my face, her chest heaving with every breath.

  “It was a joke! You are so god damn uptight; you need to relax. And for the love of all that is good and holy, why can’t you forgive me for something so menial that happened so long ago?” I am genuinely exasperated, my hands gesturing wildly as I speak.

  “Don’t tell me to relax! It might have been menial to you, but it meant everything to me. Maybe virginity doesn’t matter to guys, but for a lot of girls, it does!” Her words cause me to pause. Virginity?

  “Elise, honestly, I didn’t know. I just thought the card would make you chuckle; I didn’t actually think or know you gave me your virginity that night. I—I’m sorry.” I suddenly feel like a complete asshole. My attempt at an apology and a joke had gone completely pear-shaped and made the situation even worse.

  “It’s too late, Baldwin. Fuck your apology, fuck your flowers, and fuck you. Jump up your own ass!” She spits the words at me with a rigid finger point before turning on her stiletto and wagging her perky little ass out of my office and slamming the door.

  “It’s fucking war now, Elise!” I shout after her as I look at the pollen and petals littering my desk. “Fuck!”

  The rest of the week isn’t much better. Elise’s ice-cold stare is around every corner, penetrating me. The worst part is, I swear she’s upped her wardrobe game just to drive me crazy. I walk behind her in the corridor, watching the sway of her hips in the electric blue pencil skirt she’s wearing. It has an exposed zipper up the thigh that shows just a sliver of her toned, tanned skin when she walks or crosses her legs. I want to rip it from her body and then lick every inch of her.

  “Stop staring at my ass, pervert,” she says without even turning around.

  “What ass?” I say, brushing past her to take a seat in the conference room for our monthly staff meeting. A low blow, but she brings it out of me.

  We all take our seats as the meeting commences, Vincent at the head of the table going over our numbers, possible acquisitions, and upcoming projects. Each department head has to present, and when it’s my turn, I swivel my chair and stand up, making my way to the front of the room. Just as I’m about to clear the last chair, a heeled foot juts out, catching the toe of my shoe, catapulting me forward as I launch the papers in my hand toward the ceiling.

  I catch myself, but not before my pride takes a swift kick to the balls and a chorus of chuckles circulates throughout the room. I stand quickly, gathering my papers with the help of Vincent trying to play it off. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of embarrassment, so I say some snarky comment about my legs still being sore from my crazy workout last night.

  She has another thing coming if she thinks I’m going to let her get away with this. I wait until after the meeting when I overhear her talking to another coworker about grabbing lunch together. I’ve noticed that she always changes into flats at lunch and leaves her heels behind. I wait patiently in the hall as I see her enter her office and emerge a few moments later with her flats on.

  “Enjoy your lunch, Elise,” I say, flashing her the sweetest, fakest smile I can muster. Like usual, she completely ignores me, brushing past me to catch the elevator. I wait until I see the doors close then I sneak into her office, shutting the door behind me. I check the coat closet, but there are no shoes, then I look under the desk, and there they are. I pull them out; the heel is at least five inches. I have to admit, they make her already perfect ass look even more amazing and her mile-long legs look like they could be on a catwalk.

  I sit down on the floor, trying to hide my body with the desk as I open her drawers in search of a tool. “Bingo!” I whisper as I pull out a metal nail file. I put the file against the base of the heel and begin to saw, stopping suddenly when I realize that this is pretty mean. Then I remember the smug look on her face this morning when she tripped me in front of everyone. “Karma’s a bitch, sweetheart,” I mutter as I saw my way through the heel, leaving it connected just enough not to tip her off. I replace the file and the shoes and slip back to my office.

  The rest of the afternoon is a drag. The only thing I’m looking forward to is a red-faced, pissed-off Elise storming through my office doors at any minute. I’m buried in my laptop, going over expense and quarterly business reports, when I hear the somewhat muffled shouts of Elise coming towards my office. I can’t help but smile. I know I’m about to get living shit chewed out of my ass, but I know it will be worth it. I immediately burst into laughter as a disheveled-looking Elise comes limping into my office with one broken shoe in her hand and the other still on her foot. Success.

  5

  Elise

  I burst through Nate’s office doors, holding up a finger of silence to his assistant, whose mouth snaps shut at the gesture.

  Nate is sitting back in his chair, a low chuckle emerging from his broad chest. “You look pretty damn proud of yourself for a dead man,” I say as I hurl the mangled and broken heel at his head. He dodges it only slightly, causing his laugh to halt.

  “Jesus, Elise, you don’t have to get violent over it!”

  I lean across his desk, getting my face as close to his as I can. His eyes drop from mine to look down my somewhat gaping blouse. A huge grin spreads across his face when I catch him; he doesn’t care as he takes another long look.

  “You know, you wouldn’t be half bad to look at if you walked around like that all the time.”

  I stand up quickly, realizing he isn’t worth my anger. “Please elaborate on that for me, Mr. Baldwin. Would I be more sexually appealing to you and the other men in the office if I wore shorter skirts? Maybe a sheer blouse with my tits hanging out?” I slowly unbutton one of the buttons on my blouse, dragging my finger down my cleavage. I can see his Adam's apple bob in his throat as his eyes bounce from my lips to my chest. “Maybe then I’d be one of the women in the lunchroom discussing the size of your manhood, praying and hoping you’d give me a second glance in the hallway.”

  “Yeah, you wish,” is all he can manage to muster as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. A new idea formulates in my head. How easy it would be to manipulate him using my sexuality…such a cliché.

  I hop up on his desk and bend my knee, swinging my leg with the still intact heel up on the desk as I reach down to remove it. I drop it on his desk; it makes a loud thunk as it lands between his hands that are flat against the surface. I slide back off the desk. “Those weren’t cheap, Baldwin; I’ll send you the bill.”

  He doesn’t say a word as I sashay back out of his office. I don’t need to turn around to confirm what I already know; he can’t take his eyes off me.

  When I get back to m
y office, I close the door and immediately grab a stack of papers to fan myself. I have no idea how I managed to keep my cool through that exchange. A very overwhelming part of me wanted to continue to crawl across his desk and grab his tie, forcing his lips against mine while I slid down into his lap. I take several large swallows of the ice water on my desk, trying to calm my nerves and ignore the quivering desire between my thighs. “Christ, I need to get a grip.”

  “So are the rumors true?” Amber, one of the interns, asks another intern, whose name I don’t know.

  “You know I don’t kiss and tell. Especially when it comes to the CFO.” She emphasizes the O, exaggerating the shape of her mouth as she nudges the other girl.

  That catches my attention. A little pit forms in my stomach at the thought of Nate hooking up with the interns, and a little bit of disgust as well. It’s one thing to go after a younger woman, but it isn’t cute when you’re one of the executives and you’re fishing in the still-in-college pool.

  “Come on, tell meeeee.” She exaggerates the last vowel sound, dragging it out like she’s an annoying teenager begging her parents to stay out past curfew. She holds up her hands, a solid foot apart as bimbo number two squeals and swats her hands away.

  “You’re so baaaad!”

  I take a sip of my coffee as I wait for my bagel to pop up out of the toaster. Someone enters the room, and I look up just in time to see Nate walk in, his eyes landing on me.

  “And here I thought you ate the souls of lonely, innocent children for breakfast.” Both girls look over at us, the one’s hands still held up in a gesture of measurement.

  “Nope, just the hearts of pathetic, bottom-feeding men.” He ignores my comment as he pulls a blender from under the counter and proceeds to fill it with frozen fruits and an electric-green powder. This is his morning routine; I know this because I see him carrying around his stupid green smoothie every morning and my office isn’t far from the kitchen, so I hear the whirl of the blender.