by Lola Darling
Someone clears their throat. I look up with a shock.
Edith is standing in the hallway. Blood drains from my face and my stomach clenches. Was she waiting out here the entire time?
I scramble to tuck my blouse back in place. Fuck. Fuck!
“If you’re quite done attending to Mr. Rexford, I have a new assignment for you.” Her voice drips with disdain.
“Alright,” I say, mostly managing to keep my voice steady. “What can I do?”
“Housekeeping. An extensive wedding party just checked out of the third floor. All fifty rooms need cleaning.” She gives me a smug smile. “Starting immediately.”
Chapter Seven
I’m wearing two pairs of rubber gloves that reach my elbows.
And I’m still freaking out about putting my hand in this toilet.
People. Are. Disgusting.
It’s been three days since I started my housekeeping rotation and I’ve lost all faith in humanity.
I mean, seriously.
Fishing used condoms out of potted plants… Cleaning congealed food off the carpet… Scraping I don’t even want to know what off the walls… This isn’t how I expected my internship to go.
Housekeeping is part of the program; I know that and I accept it. Learning every aspect of the hotel business is important to me and critical for my future in this industry. Yet knowing the debauchery people are capable of when they are behind closed doors gives me an entirely new respect for the housekeeping staff.
I’d never have imagined that pubic hair turning up in odd places would be the least disgusting thing I would come across. I’ve been here since six AM, scrubbing, straightening, and vacuuming, and I can’t wait to just go home.
Edith has made her point loud and clear. I know she is punishing me for what she thinks I’ve done with Mr. Rexford; it doesn’t matter that I slept with him before I started my internship. She thinks something happened in his office the other day, and this is her way of reminding me that I’m not here to flirt with the boss. I’m here to scrub shit out of the curtains.
Point. Taken.
In a way, this housekeeping assignment is a blessing since it’s allowed me to pretty much hide from Dominic. I don’t expect that he’s been looking for me, not after I snubbed him. He got the point, and I shouldn’t feel disappointed that he probably doesn’t want me anymore.
But I do.
Which is a warning sign, right there. So the longer I can keep this rolling cleaning cart between him and me, the better.
A few more days of scouting rooms for used panties hidden in shadowy places? I can handle it if means resetting this thing between Dominic and I to normal.
I finish the last room of my shift and go to wash up. By the time I reach the locker room, my feet are on fire and I realize I smell like disinfectant. I hope Callie remembers to pick up more wine because I seriously need it. At this rate, my internship is going to send me straight to rehab.
Sitting on a bench near the lockers, I kick off my clunky white work shoes and rub my toes.
“Hey, there you are!” Shauna sits on the end of the bench and slides over to me. Her cheeks are pink, eyes sparkling. She’s wearing the look of someone ready to go off about the wonders of the universe. I’m surprised to see her here so late. I knew my day would be longer, but I figured she and the other interns would be long gone.
“You didn’t join us for lunch.” She puts her hands between her knees like she just can’t sit still.
“I ate upstairs. I had too much work to do.”
“I still can’t believe Edith moved you to housekeeping this week. It makes no sense.”
It does to me, but no one else needs to know. I smile and slip into my flats. “It’s only two weeks. And it’s going fast already.”
“You’re missing so much at the desk. Do you know who checked in today? The Ambassador to France! I stayed so Beth could show me the security procedures for handling high-profile clientele.”
I look at her. Edith informed us the first day that certain procedures were off limits during our internship. Security was one of them. We couldn’t even have the codes for the private elevator that went to the executive offices. “She let you in on all that?”
Shauna shrugs and drops her eyes. A slow grin crosses her face.
“No, not really. I was supposed to be helping check in other guests, but I may have peeked a little. Do you know there’s an entirely separate computer system for handling celebrity reservations?” She leans in with a squeal. “Channing Tatum has a reservation for Friday!”
“What? No way,” I gasp.
She nods, then elbows me. “Maybe you’ll get to clean his room.”
“Yes,” I roll my eyes. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate how tight I’ve pulled the hospital corners on his bed, and how the faucets in his bathroom shine.”
She laughs. “Hey, we can dream! See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
I finish changing and grab my stuff, then head down to the staff parking garage. It stretches behind the building, a depressing concrete block. I sigh and head for my car. You can’t always get the wall-to-wall marble and chandeliers. There are a few vehicles parked in the employee section, but none around my beat up green Corolla. It’s just sitting there in the open like the geeky kid no one wants to play with. I don’t mind. Less cars mean fewer places for creepers to hide and jump out at me.
I’ve always hated parking garages, and let’s just say watching a whole bunch of true crime TV shows haven’t made me feel any safer.
A little chill goes down my spine. Now I’m just creeping myself out. But I increase my pace, holding my car keys with the pointy ends peeking out between my fingers, just in case. Unlocking the car, I yank the door open and am just about to hurry inside when I see the front, driver’s side tire.
It’s completely flat, the rim sitting in a pathetic puddle. There’s some kind of glass lodged in the rubber, which I must have driven over on the way to work. Shit.
“No way.” I stare at it a few seconds longer, as if it might magically re-inflate. My feet hurt. It’s getting darker and later by the minute, and I haven’t changed a tire since I was sixteen and my dad put me through a crash course in tire maintenance 101.
I think about calling my dad now, but it’s a thirty minute drive from his suburban cul de sac to the city. Emily and Callie are both at work, and neither of them would be better at changing this tire than me. Out of options, I toss my bag into the car and decide to tackle it myself. Popping the trunk, I rummage around for the jack and spare tire, setting both onto the ground along with my keys.
The sound of a car coming down the upper ramp catches my attention. I stop looking for the wrench thing to take the lug nuts off and glance over as the car approaches me. It’s a black Jaguar XK—I only know this because my dad commented on what body parts he’d gladly sell to get one when he saw one unveiled at a car show last summer.
The driver downshifts, and the car purrs as it slows, pulling in right beside me. I can’t see inside through the tinted windows. My pulse picks up as I side eye my trunk, wishing I knew where that damn wrench was. Instead, I bend and grab the jack. If this guy is some random, parking garage predator, I can at least hit him over the head.
The driver gets out and runs a hand down his tie as he faces me. I nearly drop the jack.
“Juliet?”
He looks amazing in a brown leather jacket over his white button down. Dark jeans cling to his legs, the tips of expensive-looking shoes shiny in the lights. It’s an exquisite contrast to the dusting of dark brown stubble that covers his jaw and chin.
Dammit. I haven’t seen him in three days and he’s affecting me harder than he did the first time I saw him. I can hardly breathe.
He moves closer, frowning. “You’re wearing a housekeeping uniform?”
His question confuses me a bit. How could he not know that I’ve been reassigned? Unless he really didn’t come looking for me again—just like
I suspected. “Yes, Edith reassigned me.”
“I see.” He looks at the jack in my hand, then to my tire. “Need help?”
Not from him. “No, thank you.”
“You’re going to fix that yourself?” Dominic looks amused.
“You think I can’t?” I retort.
“I think you’ll have a hard time without a wrench,” he smirks. “Let me give you a ride.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure you have something more important to do,” I say stubbornly. I look under an emergency winter blanket and a small bag of kitty litter. Nada. Something warm presses into my lower back, stopping my movements. Dominic runs his palm in a little circle over the dip in my spine.
He body brushes my back as he leans over me. “Nothing is more important.”
I’m defeated and I know it. It’s getting late. I’m starving and exhausted and have no resources for getting this tire changed.
I sigh, and slam the trunk shut.
“Okay,” I say reluctantly. “Thank you. It’s not too far.”
Grabbing my bag, I lock up and turn to find him holding the passenger door to the Jag open for me.
A stack of papers sits on the seat, and I carefully move them before sliding inside. The rich scent of leather and polish greet me. It’s an intimate space, small enough that Dominic’s presence feels dominating when he gets in.
His cologne mixes with the manly aroma and a little more fight goes out of me. I want to be here with him. I want this close proximity, and God help me, I want his touch.
I hand him the papers and he takes them with a frown, setting them beside the center console.
“So, housekeeping?” He pulls out of the parking garage and merges into traffic.
“Yes.” I’m not sure what to say.
“How is it going?” Dominic looks over at me, his gaze hanging on a little too long considering we’re in downtown traffic. My insides flutter.
“It’s… enlightening.” I smile a bit. “I appreciate the physical work, and learning how to properly care for a room. I had no idea how hard the housekeepers worked.”
“Most interns would be complaining about the job,” he notes.
I shrug. “It’s the point of the program, isn’t it? To learn all aspects of the hotel. It’s important work, even if nobody wants to do it.”
“That’s a great attitude.” Dominic looks over. “You’re right.”
The compliment warms me. I want him to see me as something other than a fuck. Even if his body next to mine makes me acutely aware that a fuck is what I desperately want.
I can’t help looking over, stealing a glance as we make our way through rush-hour traffic. His profile is strong, the stubble running down his throat and making a curve above his Adam’s apple. If I could just open his shirt a little more, there’d be room for my tongue to trace the cords of his neck…
I shift in my seat and my hand ruffles the papers. They edge out of their spot, and I grab them before they can flutter to the ground. I notice a different hotel logo, the Prescott, on the top page before I put them back.
“Tell me what you think of The Rexford, Juliet.”
There’s a sincerity in his voice that catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
Dominic sighs. “Prescott has been very successful in catering to a younger, hipper market and the Rexford board is considering whether or not we should make a few changes to keep up.”
I remember what Shauna said about the Rexford brothers fight over remodeling and upgrading the hotel. I have the same sinking feeling when I think about ripping out all those classic features. I haven’t been inside the Prescott hotel, but I’ve heard about its posh, modern atmosphere catering to hipsters and Gen Xers alike.
“Younger set or not, The Rexford is a landmark. People come here for its reputation and history. Prescott can never compare to that.” I recognize the street coming up. “You can pull in just ahead,” I tell him.
We pull into the alley behind my building and Dominic parks. He’s out of the car before I can unbuckle, opening my door for me and standing close enough that our bodies brush as I get out.
“Well, thank you for the ride… Mr. Rexford.”
The easy expression falls from his face, replaced with a darkness I recognize. It’s the same look he wore when he had me pressed against the doors in his office. Heat pools in my veins. I turn to go before I do something stupid like stay.
“You’re forgetting something.” He grabs my wrist.
“I have everything.”
He steps forward. “You owe me a kiss for the ride. It’s only fair,” he adds with a teasing grin.
“I don’t owe you anything.”
Heat flushes my skin as I watch him take another step closer. Gripping my upper arms, he steps into my space.
“When will you understand that I always get what I want?”
He presses me gently back against the car. He leans down, his lips a fraction from mine. “We’re going to finish what we started the other day. You, coming on my hand.”
Oh boy.
Heat surges through me at his dirty words, and all my earlier resolve crumbles to ash.
He kisses me hard. I can’t resist—I don’t want to. Our kiss turns to a frenzy until he spins me and yanks my hips back against him.
My palms slap against the car. His foot nudges mine farther apart, his hand finding my inner thigh… fingers trailing up and down, up and down. I am so aroused. I glance around, but there’s nobody to see: we’re parked way back in the alley, totally alone in the dark.
He slips his hand into my panties and leans low over me.
“We’re going to get right to the good part, Juliet.” He bends me lower over the car, my ass visible to any passersby. A hard shiver goes through me, but it only makes this hotter.
I want him so much.
Dominic finds my clit with a long, deep stroke that sends pleasure in every direction. I’m wet, soaked, slick beneath his fingers as he begins a steady rhythm. I cry out and turn my face into my arm. Anyone can hear me out here. Anyone could look out their window and see, but I don’t care.
He strokes faster, blinding me with intense sensation. It floods through me, building higher with each caress. Two fingers slide deep inside, thrusting, his palm rubbing against my clit, filling me completely and sending an intense orgasm crashing into me.
Oh my God.
He fists my hair as I throw my head back and cry a soundless scream. He keeps touching, caressing, and the orgasm keeps coming until I lose all ability to stand. I slump against the car, but he’s there, holding my body tight.
Dominic turns me, his lips finding mine as the pleasure ebbs away.
“That’s how you say, ‘thank you,’ Juliet.” He sucks his fingers, the ones that were just pumping inside me, and then kisses me hard again. A quiver of new arousal goes through me as I taste my intimate flavor on his lips.
He finally releases me, looking satisfied. I take a shaky breath, smooth my skirt and try to will strength back into my legs.
He retrieves my bag, hands it to me. “Sweet dreams.”
I feel his gaze on me, following as I exit the alley and head inside the building. I walk slowly up the flight of stairs to our apartment, my head still spinning.
Sweet dreams?
I’ll take a nightmare, as long as he’s in it.
Chapter Eight
A text message wakes me the next morning. It’s from a number I don’t recognize.
Good morning. Your keys are in your mail slot.
I read it five times before the words click with last night’s events. Rushing to my front door, I find my car parked at the curb in front of the building, shiny clean, with four new tires. It’s cleaner than it’s been since it was right off the assembly line, probably.
My keys are in the mail slot, along with a small card from Haye’s Repair shop that holds a hand written note. Tires and maintenance curtesy of Rexford, Inc.
Jesus H. Christ. The ma
n gave me an orgasm and new tires. I can accept one— can’t give back an orgasm, after all—but how do I, in good conscience, accept the other?
Thinking about it, I realize I don’t have a choice, not unless I want to rip them off the car myself. And I’ve already proven, I’m pretty much useless when it comes to changing a tire.
But this doesn’t mean I don’t owe him.
I get ready for work, but the question, “what’s next,” plagues me. I thought I’d have things figured out by now, but I’m not on any more solid ground now than I was three days ago.
But despite my uncertainty, I can’t avoid the truth: I have no regrets. Every encounter with Dom has been mind-blowingly pleasurable, and I can’t ever regret coming like that. He was correct when he said that I’d never had a lover like him. He’s ruined me to common sense, apparently, because all I can think about is another taste.
The interns are whispering when I enter the locker room.
“Did you hear?” Shauna saunters over to me with a coffee cup in her hand. It smells amazing. She offers it, and I take it gratefully.
“I love that you’ve become my coffee bitch.” I take a sip. “Hear what?”
“Edith’s been fired!”
I pause. “What? When?”
Shauna slips into her blazer and buttons it, fluffing her long blonde hair around her shoulders. “Late last night. We’re all meeting at the desk for a quick briefing.”
My mind slips to the conversation Dominic and I had in his car yesterday. Did he figure that Edith was punishing me, too? The thought that he may have fired her over me makes a lump lodge in my throat.
Does that mean he cares?
My mind is still whirling as Shauna and I go to the lobby. It’s quiet this morning, the grand entrance peaceful with its stately beauty washed in new sunlight.
Our manager, Beth, ushers us into a staff room. “These are your new rotations,” she says and passes out a sheet of paper with our revised schedule on it.
Shauna frowns. “Why the change? I thought we had two weeks left.”
Beth shrugs. “It came from higher up.”
