“Mama, I get to spend the day with Aunt Mandy while you go hang out with Bryant. Is that okay?” The smile on her face tells me she is excited and not feeling at all left out.
“That’s what I was gonna ask you, silly,” I tell her, patting the seat next to me so she’ll come sit by me, which she does.
“Remember when I told you Bryant and I were going to start spending some time together so we can get to know each other better?”
Gracie smiles and nods.
“Well, today is one of those days. We’re going to go out for a bit and you’re gonna hang out with Mandy. If that’s okay with you.”
“Yep. She said we’re gonna go do fun stuff.”
“I’m sure you will, baby girl. But you behave for her. You hear me? Best behavior. Remember your manners,” I tell her quickly. For that I get an eye roll and a “of course, Mama.”
“All right, I’m gonna get going.”
“Have fun, Mama.”
I head back to my room to grab my purse and double check that I have everything. When I come back out, Mandy and Gracie are where I left them, but they’ve moved on to watching the Transformers. Grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge in the kitchenette, I lean against the counter as a knock comes from the main door, which makes me jump and reminds me I still need to chat with the manager about the other night. I couldn’t get away from Mandy and Gracie yesterday before we left for the game to do it.
Looking through the peephole once again, my body immediately gets tingly when Bryant’s gorgeous face is on the other side. As I open the door, his eyes scan me from my toes to my eyes, appreciation apparent on his face.
“Hey,” I stutter out, causing him to chuckle a little. I step out of the way so he can come in. Once inside, he takes my hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the top of it, his eyes glued to mine. He must feel my heart going a million miles a minute because before he drops my hand, he turns it over and kisses my pulse point on my wrist, lingering for a minute.
“You look beautiful, as always,” he tells me while walking further into the room.
“You clean up pretty nice too, Bryant.” He gives me a knowing smirk. I seriously can’t take my eyes off of him. The stubble on his face has my mind going in directions it shouldn’t with my daughter sitting in the same room. When my eyes connect with his lips, I lick mine, and a small growl comes from him before he turns and walks toward the bottles of water I’d left on the counter. Opening one, he brings it to his lips, gulping down half the bottle, his eyes still trained on mine.
Mandy startles me when she whispers, “Quit eye fucking him already. The date is just starting.” When the hell did she walk over to me?
“Shut up,” I whisper-shout, and I know he heard her because he’s choking on the water he’s drinking.
Awesome.
Mandy chuckles and then walks over to Bryant.
“Thank you for this trip by the way. I definitely needed a break from work, and this was the perfect opportunity.”
“Pleasure is all mine,” he replies to Mandy, but he’s still looking at me.
“Oh, it’ll be your pleasure all right,” she mumbles under her breath before walking back into the living room where Gracie is still focused on the Autobots saving the world from the Decepticons.
I shake my head and turn my attention to Gracie.
“We’re leaving. Come hug me,” I tell her, my voice thick, and I hear Bryant chuckle behind me.
If Gracie notices any sort of tension in the room, she’s not saying anything, thank God. She hugs me tight before strolling over to Bryant like it’s no big deal and hugs him too.
“Have fun at the old people wax museum,” she hollers as she strolls back over and flops down on the couch beside Mandy who is trying really hard not to laugh.
Bryant shoots me a questioning look, and I shake my head and smile, pointing to the door.
We step out into the hallway where Bryant immediately laces his fingers through mine. I love that he likes to hold my hand.
He presses the down button to call for the elevator and then turns his attention to me.
“You really do look beautiful, Layne.”
“Thanks. So do you,” I reply awkwardly. I’m not the greatest at taking compliments, probably because I don’t receive them often from anyone older than eight.
“Well, I’ve been called a lot of things before, but beautiful is not one of them,” he teases.
“Stop teasing me,” I laugh out. “I’m nervous.”
“Why? It’s just you and me.”
“Exactly,” I reply quickly. “Just you and me. Alone.”
The elevator dings and the doors open in front of us, saving me from this embarrassing discussion.
We step into the elevator and Bryant pushes the button for the first floor. I watch the doors shut slowly, and the moment they’re closed, he steps in front of me, pushing his hands into my hair and bringing his lips down to mine. My hands find his hips, and I hold on for dear life while he devours my mouth. When the elevator starts to slow, he pulls back, pressing light kisses to my lips before letting go of my head and stepping back to the side of me.
I try to control my breathing and not look like Bryant Nash mauled my mouth two seconds ago, as the doors open up and two young women walk in, eyeing Bryant like he’s a piece of meat. Bryant wraps his arm around my waist and pulls my body to his.
The elevator is mirrored, so I watch as the women’s eyes bounce back and forth between each other and Bryant. He keeps his eyes trained on mine in the reflection and smirks at me when he sees my face flush with irritation. He squeezes my hip with the hand resting there and leans over and kisses the top of my head. One of the women rolls her eyes and it makes me smile.
When we reach the first floor and the women exit before us, Bryant once again grabs my hand and leads me to the front doors.
Stanley is standing beside the black SUV he’s been shuttling us around in and opens the back door the moment he sees us coming.
"Oh hey, I need to chat with the front desk real quick. I’ll meet you outside,” I tell him quickly.
“I’ll go with you,” he replies, heading for the front desk.
“No,” I blurt out a little too quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll only take a second. I’ll meet you outside.”
He looks at me strangely but nods and walks out to where Stanley is standing.
As I walk up to the front desk, I notice one of the ladies behind the counter keeps glancing at me and steps a little closer to the redhead working the desk when I stop in front of her.
“Excuse me,” I say politely to the redhead who is still typing into the computer.
She lifts her eyes to mine and smiles brightly. “Yes, ma’am. Can I help you with something?”
The other woman continues to act like she’s doing something, but she’s really only rearranging things that don’t look to need rearranging.
“I hope so,” I reply, my eyes swinging back to where Bryant is standing, ensuring he hasn’t come back in. “The night before last, a man I don’t know knocked on the door to my room and started asking me questions about my relationship with Bryant Nash. When I went to shut the door, he tried to push it back open. I got it shut and he ran off. Now, I’m not sure what this hotel’s policy is on giving out room information on its guests, but I want to make it abundantly clear I do not want my information released to anyone.”
The woman rearranging things seems to have lost interest and walks away. The front desk woman watches her retreat before turning to me. “I apologize this incident occurred here, ma’am. I assure you we never release information about our guests to anyone unless specifically told to do so by the guest. No one should’ve known you were a guest here, or that you are a guest of Mr. Nash’s, except you and him.”
She waves over a man that is standing nearby and introduces him to me as Isaac, the security manager. She quickly relays the story to him about my incident and Isaac promises to review the se
curity tapes and get to the bottom of it. As I thank them for their help, Bryant’s arm snakes around my waist, making my whole body stiffen.
“Everything okay here?” he asks with authority.
Isaac’s eyes widen for a moment, recognition of who he is obvious, before swinging to mine. “Yep,” I blurt out before Isaac can say anything. “Everything is fine. I was asking them to make sure the towels in my room are changed out every day. Kids are gross.” I try to laugh, but it even sounds fake to me. Isaac’s face dawns in understanding that I haven’t told Bryant what is going on.
Bryant smiles stiffly and steers me to the front doors.
He takes my hand to help me in, and I thank him with a smile.
Once we’re in and moving, I turn my attention to Bryant.
“So, tell me what the plan for today is. ‘Wear something comfortable’ isn’t really a hint into what you have planned.”
“Honestly, I don’t have much planned. I figured since we’re in New York City, we could check out the touristy stuff. Have you ever been here?”
“Nope, and I would love that.” I’d been nervous to bring Gracie to do all the touristy stuff because it’s such a big city and I don’t know my way around. Hell, I’m even nervous to take her to parts of Denver I’m not familiar with, and I’ve lived there my whole life.
“We only have one day, so pick the top two places you’d like to see,” he starts. “If we have time for more, we’ll add another to the list.”
“Central Park for sure. It’s always been on the top of my list,” I blurt out.
One of my favorite stories about my mom that my dad used to tell me is about how much my mother loved Central Park. He’d taken her there a few weeks before they found out they were pregnant with me. She’d been upset because once again, their trying to conceive had been null and she had been pulling further and further into herself. He said she had so desperately wanted a baby and every single period and every single negative test about killed her. He’d taken her to NYC to relax and reconnect, to get her mind off the pain of being unable to get pregnant and spend some time together.
Apparently the relaxing had worked because less than a month later, she was puking her guts up and had never been happier about it. My mom swore I was conceived in New York City, which is why my name is Layne. They’d stayed at the Park Lane Hotel, right near Central Park. I’d never told a soul that story. It was too personal and I’d always kept it to myself. Someday, I’d bring Gracie here and explain it to her.
It was a beautiful story, one very close to my heart, and I wanted her to be able to understand the magnitude of how wonderful her grandmother was when I told her.
When I feel the first pricks of tears stinging my eyes, I close them quickly to cut them off. Not now. This trip is about fun and new experiences, not old ones that make me cry.
Stanley pulls over and stops the car, and I can see out the window that we’re at Central Park. My heart is lodged in my throat, and I swallow it down. I miss them both so much.
When the door beside me opens and a hand reaches in for mine, I realize Bryant has gotten out of the car and already walked around to open the door for me. I’d been lost in my own head and missed that part.
Placing my hand into his, I allow him to pull me from the car and into his arms. I squeak in response to the intimacy of the hug he’s got me in.
“I’m not sure what memory you’re thinking about right now,” he mumbles into my hair, “but I hope someday you trust me enough to tell me about it.”
I hadn’t realized how lost in my own head I’d become, but Bryant obviously did. All I can do is melt into his warmth and let him help me through this. He doesn’t need to know the backstory. Not yet anyway. Knowing he can read me and somehow knows what I need makes my heart crack open to him even a little more.
He laces his fingers through mine as we head toward an entrance to the park. The second my eyes land on the path winding through the trees, I know why my mom fell in love with this place. It’s the calm in the bustle of a big city.
We walk in silence for I don’t know how long before stopping near the edge of a pond, with beautiful bright pink flowers being the highlight. A plaque near a bench explains the flowers are centuries old azaleas. This place is absolutely breathtaking.
Hand in hand, we walk the grounds of Central Park until we come to a small pub with little tables out front. Settling into a seat facing the park, Bryant tells me he’ll be right back and walks inside the pub.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and lift my face to the warm sun. This trip has definitely been much needed.
Seconds later, Bryant returns with a red face and two menus.
“What’s the matter?” I blurt out. I can’t tell from his expression if he’s mad or embarrassed.
“Nothing,” he retorts, setting one of the menus in front of me, not meeting my eyes.
When he sits down and opens his menu, I reach over and put my hand on top of his, getting his attention immediately.
“What’s wrong, Bryant?”
He looks at my face, for what I assume is the reaction I’ll have to his response.
“I went to get menus and got molested by a waitress who recognized me.” He doesn’t even falter. “She grabbed my junk and asked me if I wanted to see the stock room.”
My eyes must pop out of my head because he gives me a sad smile and shakes his head.
“Does that happen often? Women propositioning you in public?”
“I wouldn’t say often, but yes, it does happen, unfortunately.” He sighs, obviously uncomfortable with this conversation. “But I guess when you’re a young idiot and you eat up the attention, that’s what you become known for—even years later when you’re not the same young idiot anymore.”
He’s right. There used to be pictures and articles in the tabloids every week about his escapades with the ladies. Those pictures and articles stopped years ago, but apparently, the women didn’t get the message that he’d grown up.
“I’m sorry,” I respond, because I don’t know what else to say.
“Don’t apologize, Layne. I dug the hole, not you.”
I nod in understanding but am uncomfortable with this discussion. I’ve been with a few men, but not since Garrett, and that was a long time ago. I had a baby to focus on. Sex hasn’t been a priority for a long time.
“So, what do we want to eat? Maybe we could order a couple of the smaller plates and share?” I ask him, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“That sounds good to me. I’m not starving, so order whatever you want,” he replies, his thoughts obviously still on the woman’s aggressive behavior.
“I’m not super hungry either. How about soft pretzel sticks and beer cheese and maybe the French onion soup?”
When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him to find his gaze on the waitress heading our way, and I can tell by the look on his face she is the one who propositioned him. He’s uncomfortable, and it pisses me off she is causing this.
I swing my attention to her and watch as she overly sways her hips, fluttering her fake eyelashes at Bryant as she approaches. Her attention is solely on him. She doesn’t even glance my way.
He puts his eyes on the menu and doesn’t acknowledge her.
“Hey there. I’m Aubrey, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Can I get y’all started with something from the bar?” she asks, her attention still solely on him.
I might look like a small fry, but I’ve never had a problem telling people how it is. This chick needs to go.
“Hi, Aubrey,” I address her, my voice overly sweet, causing Bryant’s attention to swing to me. “The first thing you can do is head back inside and fetch us a new waitress.”
She glances my way but only for a second before returning it to him. “I’m sorry. Is there a problem?” she asks him.
“There is a problem,” I answer for him. “You are the problem. I’m not sure what the acceptable amount of personal sp
ace is for you, but if you worked for me, I’d have fired your ass the second you put your hands on a customer.” She rears back like I slapped her, but I’m not done. “I’d like to speak to your manager.”
Her eyes narrow at me and she starts to say something, but I hold up my hand and stand up. She backs a few steps away from the table as I head inside, her fumbling for words behind me.
As I approach the bar, I see the bartender is chatting with a customer seated there.
“I’m sorry, excuse me. I would like to speak to the manager please,” I say politely.
“You got him,” he replies with a smile.
“I’d like to request a different waitress please.”
He looks to Aubrey and then back to me. “Can I ask why?” he retorts, not in defense but like he needs to know as her supervisor.
“Absolutely. My boyfriend came in here to let someone know we were outside and to grab a couple menus and your waitress sexually assaulted him.”
The man’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he looks pissed.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’re mistaken,” he replies to me coldly. “Aubrey is my girlfriend. I’m certain you misunderstood the situation.”
I take a step toward the bar before I speak again.
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure Bryant Nash wouldn’t make up a story about a waitress grabbing his dick while he’s with his girlfriend having lunch.”
The guy chokes on his own spit as he rounds the bar, heading for the door I came through a few moments ago. When he sees Bryant sitting at the table outside, he turns quickly to Aubrey and points at the back of the bar.
“Aubrey, I need to speak to you immediately,” he bites out, as she mopes in the direction he pointed. “Ma’am, I apologize for her behavior. You won’t have to deal with her again while you are here. Lunch and drinks are on the house.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I reply sternly as I walk back outside.
I hope he fires her. I don’t care what kind of man-whore Bryant used to be. There is no excuse for that chick’s behavior. As a business owner, I’d can her ass immediately for that type of action.
When Bryant sees me approach the table, the smirk on his face is ridiculous.
Slam: A Colorado Smoke Novel Page 20
