by Calista Fox
“This is stunning. I love the font—very elegant.” The silver-embossed script was gorgeous and stood out against the darker, layered background.
“The printer did a great job with my first few mock-ups. I liked this one the best.”
“Good call,” I said. “Dane will agree.”
He eyed me curiously. “Because you do?”
I tried to bite back a smile, but it tickled the corners of my mouth. “Yes. But also because it’s awesome. Sophisticated and glamorous, with that avant-garde look and feel he prefers. How do you plan to top this with the grand opening invites?”
With a half snort, he said, “I have no fucking clue.”
I laughed. “You’ll think of something.”
I dug into a Mediterranean salad—my new favorite—and Kyle took a few healthy bites of his overly decadent foie gras burger.
He nodded his approval as his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. After wiping his mouth with the linen napkin, he said, “I didn’t think this would work for me, but damn it’s good. Melts in your mouth. I never thought I’d like foie gras.”
“Are you planning to eat your way through the menu?”
“Yeah. And I’m in luck, since Chef D’Angelo keeps changing it up. I don’t think I’ll ever have to eat the same thing twice. Though … I could probably live off this burger. Want to try it? Or the garlic-Parmesan fries?”
“Thanks, no. I just about OD’d this morning on the petit fours our French pastry chef whipped up for the PR meeting. She wants them at the launch and I told her she’d better make a gazillion batches, because they’re going to be devoured. I ate a half dozen myself.”
“Pig.”
I laughed again. “Totally. Every meeting I go to has food and wine. If I don’t stick to these salads, I’m not going to fit in the elevator.”
Since I’d been banned from using the stairwell …
Kyle said, “You have nothing to worry about.” His gaze slid over me. “You’re perfect.”
“Hardly.” I snickered.
He added, “Come on, Ari. You’re beautiful.” His blue irises deepened in color. “Maybe you’ll have dinner with me tonight?”
“That’s not going to happen. Now or ever.”
My head snapped up, since I’d been spearing romaine lettuce and Kalamata olives with my fork.
Dane stood over Kyle’s shoulder, shooting me a really, this again? look.
I tried a placating smile. “Mr. Bax.”
He scowled.
Kyle’s brow furrowed.
Dane rounded the table and said to me, “We have a meeting in my conference room with all of the department heads.”
I consulted my watch. “In fifteen minutes.”
“I thought we could discuss a few agenda items beforehand.”
My heart skipped several beats. Could he be more alpha? And did he honestly think he had anything to worry about when it came to Kyle? I was in love—head-over-heels in love—and I’d told Dane that already.
But he did like to hold what was his close to the chest.
I said, “Take a peek at the private party invitations Kyle made up.” I handed one over, hoping to diffuse some of the sudden tension. “Gorgeous, right?”
He actually grinned. “Am I allowed to form my own opinion on this?”
“I’m just sayin’,” I casually told him with a wave of my hand.
Dane studied the cardstock and nodded. To Kyle, he said, “Excellent work. I really do like it.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Kyle’s chest puffed out a bit, though I could still see how he bristled over Dane being so territorial with me.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ve got more tweaks, but I thought it’d make a good base.”
“Agreed. I appreciate the time and effort you’ve obviously put into this.” That was about as much of a truce as they’d reach, I suspected, because Dane’s attention returned to me. “Now, let’s have a quick chat before our meeting.”
I left my salad, since one of the servers was closing in on the remnants anyway. The hotel wasn’t fully staffed, but there were plenty of workers not only learning the ropes but also perfecting their positions. Dane wanted a smooth-running operation before the Lux even opened. That meant allowing everyone to run through the paces on a daily basis with other staff, as though they were actually catering to members and guests.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said to Kyle, who appeared a bit perplexed over the entire exchange.
“Sure.”
As Dane and I walked off, I felt his irritation. He said, “How many times has he asked you out?”
“That might have officially been the first.” I didn’t think it wise to mention our conversation at the Delfinos’. “And you can’t get mad at him.”
He crooked his dark brow at me. “Oh?”
“Dane. No one knows that we’re together. So it’s not his fault.”
We’d miraculously kept our relationship a secret thus far. I was shocked, considering the way his eyes smoldered when he looked at me and the fact that every time he was near I felt as though I’d spontaneously combust. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that my colleagues didn’t appear to speculate, but I hadn’t encountered any under-the-breath comments or outright insinuation.
Dane and I didn’t spend enough time together at the hotel for anyone to put two and two together was my guess. With the exception of Kyle, because he’d already begun formulating that idea—and Dane had clearly just confirmed it.
“The only reason no one knows about us,” he told me, “is because I don’t want it somehow getting back to my former investors.”
I drew up short. “Are you suggesting there might be a—what do you call it?” I searched my brain and said, “A mole on-property?”
“It wasn’t beavers that destroyed my security wiring,” he reminded me.
I continued down the pathway with him, saying, “You do background checks on employees. For God’s sake, I’ve experienced the in-depth paperwork. How would someone slip by, when—”
“Don’t forget who we’re dealing with, Ari.”
I sighed. “Right.” Secret society. Wealthy, affluent, influential, powerful. “So anyone could be the bad guy.”
“Yes.” He gave me a solemn look. “Just … not me.”
“Dane.”
We entered an elevator and I turned to him. “I never thought that. Not once.”
“I know you don’t understand what this is all about.”
“I understand that you’ve poured everything into the Lux. Of course you’re going to want to see this through—and keep the wolves at bay. I told you I’m supportive. I mean it.”
I spared a glance at the video camera in the corner and frowned. I wanted to kiss him. But every angle was recorded and monitored now that the security systems were fully functioning.
With a hint of frustration, I simply told him, “I get what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.”
We stepped out on the fourth floor. I collected my notes from my office and we headed to the conference room in Dane’s suite. It, too, was monitored, so I took a seat and shifted gears to business.
* * *
Saturday evening, we had dinner alone on the terrace of 10,000 Lux. More decadence that made my insides thrum. And Dane couldn’t seem to take his eyes off me. I wore a new dress. A one-shouldered number in sapphire. I’d pinned my hair in a loose updo, with a few long, curly strands left free.
Over our arugula, strawberry, and feta cheese salads, he said, “PR wants to bring more media crews out in the next month to build up a bit of hype. What are your thoughts by way of hosting?”
“The property sells itself, but I can pull together a reception for them, showcase our food and desserts. Have a jazz ensemble offer background music while they take photos. It’d be good if you were casually mingling to answer questions and give some clever sound bites.”
He grinned. “I never doubted for a second you were the
woman for this job.”
“I love it, honestly.” I glanced toward the gardens and fountains and told him, “Seriously, this can’t be beat. And I think it deserves to be shown off.” Gazing back at him, I asked, “How many for that evening, do you think?”
“Around a hundred reporters. As many as we can get, exclusively, this side of the Mississippi.”
I shrugged. “Why not go global? Make it a sneak peek for the international crème de la crème before you orchestrate the full-scale media blitz?”
Dane pushed aside his empty plate and said, “Maybe you should manage PR, too.”
“Not a chance,” I was quick to say. “I’ve got more than enough to do. And Traci is awesome, anyway.”
Miyanaga appeared to clear our salads and deliver our entrees. Rib eye with crab béarnaise sauce.
“You didn’t get to finish yours last time,” Dane coyly said.
“That’s because you were tempting me with a spectacular office.”
“And I’m so glad you took the bait.”
I sliced a thin piece of steak and sighed dreamily over the tender medium-rare meat and the rich sauce. “I don’t know where you found Chef D’Angelo, but he’s a dream come true.”
Dane said, “Don’t make me jealous of him, too.”
I laughed. “You aren’t seriously jealous of anyone. You just like intimidating the hell out of everybody. And you know I am completely, totally yours. So lighten—”
Something dropped from the terrace above us and landed on my plate, cutting me off. Three nasty little black somethings, actually. And they practically lunged for me.
I screamed as I shoved my chair back and leapt to my feet as two scorpions raced over the edge of the table and fell to the ground. The third remained on my plate, blessedly trapped in the thick béarnaise.
Dane was beside me in a heartbeat, pulling me farther away. My stomach launched into my throat.
“Go inside,” he demanded before stepping on the creepy little suckers that were on the move.
“If they’re female, they release the babies from their back,” I warned.
He stomped around the area. I screamed again as the third one broke free of the sauce.
“Inside, Ari!” Dane barked.
Before I could move, one more dropped onto my shoulder. I instinctively flicked it with my hand—and felt the searing pain as its tail curled and stung me.
I let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped to the marbled floor. I clutched my injured hand, which felt as though a Mack truck had just run it over, crushing the bones.
“Ari!” Dane was next to me in an instant, helping me to my feet.
“Mr. Bax! Is something wrong?” Miyanaga asked, panic in his voice, likely because of my Freddie Krueger freak-out.
“Scorpions on the terrace,” Dane said between clenched teeth.
“Scorpions?” This took the other man aback. “Not in this area. I’ve never seen them. And we have pest control.”
“Get the company on the phone,” Dane hissed out. “I want them checking every square inch.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and tucked me against his hard body, leading me to the bank of elevators as I cried from the excruciating agony. The doors slid smoothly, silently open and we stepped into the car. My entire body shook. The venom spread quickly through my veins, racing toward all my extremities.
“I hate them,” I ground out as the doors closed. I could barely speak but said, “I was stung when I was a kid and had a severe neurological reaction to the venom that took tons of meds to correct. And then for years, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and swear they were crawling all over me.”
I’d gotten over my aversion to spiders pretty damn quick. They didn’t compare to quick-moving scorpions with pinchers and lightning-fast tails that coiled upward for the strike. The babies were the worst, because they didn’t know when the threat was over, didn’t know when to stop stinging. They just kept pumping in venom. I knew from experience.
My heart thundered and I couldn’t catch my breath.
Dane said, “I should take you to the hospital.”
“No. Let me ride it out. He only got me once.” Though the pain was nearly unbearable. And my heart raced.
Amano met us on the fourth floor. He’d been waiting outside my office and followed us in. Dane explained what happened.
Amano went for ice at the wet bar, saying over his shoulder, “We don’t have a scorpion problem on-property.”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Dane ground out. “Check her office.”
“You don’t think—” I started to say, when a terrifying thought occurred to me. “Oh, my God. Dane.”
“What?” he demanded.
“We were standing right here. Remember?” I urged through my tears and the throbbing in my hand. I thought of the night he’d come in while we were working late. He’d done all manner of wicked things to me—then fabricated the beavers chewing-through-wire story after Ethan had called. “The security lines had just been cut and I said at least it wasn’t an infestation of—”
Dane raised a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shhh.” Turning to Amano, he said in a low tone, “Sweep for a different kind of bug.”
Amano’s expression darkened. He clearly caught Dane’s meaning.
Dane said, “My office next, then the entire floor.”
Dane pressed the ice pack to my hand, then collected my things again. He left me with Amano for a few minutes while he gathered his bag as well. Then we headed downstairs.
Brandon brought around the SUV and Dane dismissed him for the evening with a hearty tip for the extra hours he’d put in.
I still burned with pain as we drove to the creek house. It was even an effort to speak. “So they know about me.”
“Obviously.” Dane was about to take angst to all-new levels. He was incredibly tense, massively on the edge, distressing me greatly.
“That means they’ve been watching us for a while.”
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?” I shot back, turning in the seat to face him. “I announced my two biggest scare factors—rattlesnakes and scorpions. And guess what? That’s exactly what I got scared by!”
“Ari—”
“No! Do not try to calm me down!”
I started crying again.
“Fine.” His tone was strained. I couldn’t help but think of the conversation we’d had after the snake in the stairwell. I already felt the wrath building. He would find out who was behind this—and I had no doubt they’d pay dearly for what they’d done to me.
I couldn’t reconcile how I felt about that. Instead, I asked, “What does Amano know about bugs?”
“He has equipment. Knows to check for phone taps, too. He did it frequently at my parents’ estate.”
“And who were they that there was a concern over someone listening in on them?” I asked. It helped to keep my mind focused on something, rather than the sting rushing through my veins and the pain in my hand.
“My father was a political strategist. He died before there was an Internet, and since most news articles hadn’t begun to be posted until around 1985, including a lot of those archived, it was easy to keep just about everything related to him off the Web. My mother, too.”
“Why do I feel as though I’m part of one big conspiracy theory?”
“You sort of are,” he deadpanned.
“Jesus.” My eyes squeezed shut. More tears streamed down my face. I concentrated on the questions. “What happened to your parents? How did they die?”
His tone radiated his frustration as he said, “Plane crash. Their private jet went down outside of New York City after a night at the Met. They saw the operatic version of Sweeney Todd. Ironic.” He gave a disgusted laugh. “He was a murderer.”
My pulse jumped. “You don’t think your parents were—”
“No,” he was quick to say. “I was just pointing out that it’s about tragic deaths.”
I hated hearing the pain in his voice. “Dane, I’m so sorry.” I would have reached over and covered his hand with mine, but I still clutched my throbbing hand to my chest. “How old were you?”
“Not quite a month. My aunt and Amano were looking after me that night.”
“A month,” I said on a heavy breath. “You never even knew them.”
“Aunt Lara was good at making sure I did—with photos and stories. They were very well respected in Philadelphia society, though apparently quite private. They kept personal matters to themselves. Not easy to get to know beyond their philanthropic efforts.”
“Must be where you got your secretive ways.”
“Amano always thought it was a smart tactic, due to my father’s political affiliations. In D.C., you never know your true enemies.”
“Zoe Barnes can attest to that,” I mumbled.
“Sorry … not following you.”
“From House of Cards. She got thrown in front of a train by a congressman because she knew too much.”
“Dangerous game to play,” he concurred.
“Yeah. So’s this.”
We both fell silent until we reached the house. As we entered, Dane said, “You’ll work from here the rest of the week.”
“Dane,” I instantly protested.
“Don’t say a fucking word against it, Ari.” He took my nearly melted ice and left me. I sank into a chair in the entryway. He returned minutes later with a fresh ice pack that he gently placed on my hand. Kneeling in front of me, he said, “Baby, I’m so sorry about this.”
As he brushed tears from my cheeks, I said, “It’s not your fault.”
“You keep saying that.” He stood. “But it is my fault. And I’m going to do something about it, once and for all.”
I didn’t like his ominous tone.
“Dane—”
“This all ends, Ari. All of it.”
He helped me up and to his bedroom.
“Dane, I can’t hide out here. I have staff. Meetings. Measurements to take around the lobby. I have to get Facilities involved as well, since their people will be hanging the decorations.”
