THE HOTEL
PART THREE
By Lola Darling
THE HOTEL: BOOK THREE
Copyright © 2015 Lola Darling
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: British Empire Designs
If the room is a rockin’, don’t bother knockin’.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter One
It’s been two days since Dominic discovered the secret I’ve been hiding from him: that the first night we met, I was hired to get compromising photos of him. Two days since he threw me out of the Rexford hotel and swore he never wanted to see me again. Two days of me wallowing in a heartbroken mess around my apartment until my roommates must be sick of my forlorn crying.
“We’re going to need a Sherpa to come navigate this mountain of Kleenex.”
Emily brushes wads of tissue off my bed before sitting next to me. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and take the steaming mug she offers. I think I smile. I don’t know. My face is so tight from dried tears, I feel like I’ve had botched plastic surgery.
“What’s in the mug?” I take a sniff. “Smells good.”
“One of my secret tea blends.”
“Made with unicorn tears and rainbows?”
“Of course. And also honey and green tea to soothe your throat.”
Her soft voice brings fresh tears to my eyes. I don’t deserve her kindness. At least, that’s how the sick, twisted sensation in my gut makes me feel. Because of me, Dominic may lose control of the hotel. I deserve to be miserable.
Plus, I miss him. A hell of a lot.
A plopping noise makes me look down, and sure enough, I’m crying in my tea.
“Hey,” Emily takes the mug and runs a hand down my hair. “I know it hurts, Jules.”
“Understatement.” I lean against her shoulder. “It feels like he ripped out my heart and stomped all over it then left it bleeding in the gutter with all the Rexford’s dirty garbage.”
I see him every time I close my eyes—the blend of shock and anger on Dominic’s face as his ex-wife, Lillian, revealed everything. The way he looked at me when I admitted I helped set him up. How he smirked when I tried to confess my feelings for him.
In that moment, I lost everything. My internship, my career, and the man I love.
It couldn’t get any worse.
“He won’t call me back,” I admit. “I’ve left messages.” It dawns on me that I haven’t checked my phone in a half hour. I scramble to get my cell, but Emily stops me.
“He hasn’t called, Juliet.”
“How do you know?”
She just shakes her head, and I crumble a little more.
“He won’t call, will he?”
She tries to look supportive, but I can tell, she doesn’t believe me. And if my ‘bright side only, glass half full’ friend can’t find it in her heart to lie, there’s really no hope for me. My heart cracks again. Dominic Rexford has washed his hands of me. How can I blame him? I helped his ex-wife strip him of control over his own empire. Thanks to me, he’s lost everything that he held most dear.
I just wish I’d known. The first night we met, it was just a job: my cousin, Callie, was sick, so I filled in for her acting as a honeytrap for her private investigator boss. I was supposed to flirt with the target, let them get photos of him kissing me, and make a quick exit. I didn’t expect Dom to be so sexy, so magnetic – all my rules went out of the window when I followed him upstairs. It was just one night, I told myself. Nobody would ever know.
I didn’t realize that my incredible one night stand with him was going to have consequences like this.
I didn’t expect my love would ruin him.
Pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes, I force down another wave of tears. I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t know what to do. I need to do something, to fix it any way that I can. But, how?
An apology won’t mean a thing compared to his lost empire. I don’t think Hallmark makes a card for this kind of thing.
I lean over the side of my bed and grapple for the neck of a wine bottle. It’s empty—so is the next one I reach for, and the one after that. I don’t have to check the cookie bags or the pizza box on my floor. I know they’re empty, too.
Emily stands and starts to collect the trash. “You’ve gone on one hell of a broken-heart bender.”
“It’s not over yet.”
She bypasses the mountain of snot rags to grab my garbage can. “Believe it or not, you’ll get through this, Jules. Things like this just make you stronger.”
“How would you know?” It flies out of my mouth before I can take it back. Emily pauses a moment, then keeps cleaning. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly.” She doesn’t talk much about her romantic history, but I do know that some guy did a number on her a few years back, bad enough that she won’t even mention his name.
“It’s OK,” Emily says with a supportive smile. “I know that it gets better. Eventually.”
My bedroom door flies open, and Callie bursts in. “Ugh, you’re still wallowing? Come on, you’ll be a public health hazard if you don’t get out of those sweatpants.”
“So what?” I slump back down. “I don’t have anywhere to be, remember? I got fired.”
Callie rolls her eyes. “Dominic is a purebred asshole, and you don’t need him, Juliet. Fuck him. And not in the fun way.”
She disappears and comes back with not one bottle of cheap wine, but two. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re not helping.” Emily looks slightly disgusted. “She needs to get up and take a shower.”
“But failing that, she needs to get drunk until she’s ready to not be drunk anymore. It’s a rule of break-ups. Didn’t you read the girl code handbook, Em?”
I’m not about to argue with Callie’s wonderful logic. I open a box, pour some into a glass, and take a sip before they stop nitpicking each other and look at me.
“That’a girl.” Callie nods approvingly.
I try to drink more, but it tastes bitter in my mouth. I remember the sweetness of the wine Dominic and I drank while he fed me oysters in Paris. And the wild sex in the alley after that? What I wouldn’t give to turn back the clock and relive it again.
Just to have him next to me, to hear his voice.
I’m a hundred shades of pathetic.
“That sappy look on your face has to stop.” Callie opens a bag of chips and hands them to me. I know it needs to stop. But it’s too soon. Truthfully, I’m still reeling—and starving. A take-out container plops onto my lap. Pad Thai.
“I could seriously kiss you right now,” I say, and crack the top, reveling in the waft of peanut sauce and noodles.
“Please don’t.”
I wolf down the Thai. This, I can do: eat, drink, repeat, until my food is gone. Now if calories would just take the pain away, I’d be all set.
That, and if Dom would just talk to m
e. He still might not forgive me after I explain, but I need to clear the air about everything. Thinking his name brings the sadness back and boom, just like that, I’m crying again.
“I can’t do this!” I gulp. “I need to talk to him.”
“He’s not ready, Juliet. You have to give him some time.”
There’s a noise from the living room. Emily turns. “What was that? Did someone knock?”
My brain is slow to register what she said, but then it does. And wham, my pulse picks up. We listen, and sure enough, there’s a fast, light rap on the front door.
“Oh my God!” I flip the covers off. “What if it’s Dom?”
I leap out of bed, then freeze. The sight of myself in the mirror is a slap of reality. Bedhead hair, pallid skin, and these sweatpants. “I can’t see him like this!”
“Quick,” Emily pulls things out of my dresser before darting into the living room, yelling, “Just a minute!”
“Help me!” I beg Callie.
“Sweetie, Cover Girl could come at you with a paint gun and it wouldn’t help.” She drags me into my bathroom and turns into the pit crew queen of hang-over desperation. In seconds, my face is washed, my hair is brushed, and she’s doused me with spray-on deodorant.
Clean yoga pants and a tank top and I’m as ready as I can be. I smooth my hands down my palms and eye the front door. With a big breath, I throw it open… and stop. It’s not Dom, not even close.
“Hello Juliet.”
It’s Dom’s ex-wife, Lillian.
Chapter Two
What the hell?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, gripping the doorframe for support. She looks perfect; of course she does. Lillian is rocking a pair of black capris and a flowing turquoise top that drapes off one petite shoulder. Her hair is perfectly pony-tailed, her make-up flawless, and me? I’m one step away from homeless.
“I thought it was time you and I had a little chat.” Without missing a beat, she sashays past me and into the apartment. I follow, thrown.
“If you’re here to gloat…” I stop as I realize what a mess the apartment is, my own wallowing debris taking over the couch and floor.
Lillian’s lip curls as she takes it in. “What a… charming home you have.”
There’s a snort from my bedroom door. “Seriously?” Callie glares. She folds her arms, and I half expect her to be wielding the pocket knife she keeps under her bed. Emily is beside her with the coldest look I’ve ever seen on her innocent little face. Probably the wine, but I feel a little mushy. My girls have my back and I love them for it.
Lillian ignores them and gives me a look. “Can we speak alone?”
She’s here to bring more humiliation and pain. What else would the ex-wife of my former lover want?
“I don’t think so.” With a sweep of my arm, I gesture she should leave. But she just smiles bigger, and man, I hate her.
“Very well.” She pauses. “I wanted to apologize.”
That gets me. “What for? Ruining my entire life?”
Lillian doesn’t flinch. “I didn’t know you really cared about Dom. When I saw those photos, and realized you were still with him, I thought perhaps you were playing your own game. Clearly, I was mistaken.”
Is this sympathy in her tone? It catches me off guard. She’s the enemy. She caused this mess. Why in the world would she be feeling sorry for me?
I glance at Callie and Emily and ask them for a few minutes with my eyes. They retreat into my bedroom, leaving me alone with the woman who brought my whole world crashing down.
“There’s more going on between you and Dom than I thought,” she continues.
“Past tense. He hates me. He won’t even speak to me.”
She has the grace to look a little sheepish—which surprises me again. She looks me over, her expression going back to friendly neutral. “So, what are you going to do now?”
I’m not sure I understand her question. My mind goes blank. “Um… finish this bender and then… I don’t know, brush myself off and look for a job?” It comes out sarcastically. I’ve just lost everything I cared about. What does she think I’m going to do?
“What if I said you didn’t need to look far?”
I frown. “What?”
“Pay attention, Juliet.” She gives a little laugh. “I’m offering you a job. I want you to come work for me at the Rexford.”
I blink, but I can’t respond. She’s playing with me.
“Look, I now have a huge stake in the Rexford,” Lillian explains. “And with Xander supporting me with his shares, we have the majority to make a real difference. I need someone who knows the insides of the company, who can give me the advice I need. My personal liason, assistant, advisor – call it what you want. I’m offering you three times your normal salary, and you’d answer only to me.”
My brain finally catches up. She and Dom’s brother are taking control. She wants me to help her?
“I’m just an intern!” I protest.
“Say what you will about my ex-husband, but he has excellent instincts when it comes to finding good people.” She shrugs. “Dominic trusts you.”
Pain shoots through my heart. “Trusted, Lillian.”
“He valued your judgment. Obviously, that makes you someone to watch. An up-and-comer. Besides, you know how Dom works. I need someone who can stand up to him and fight in my corner.”
Fight Dom? Suddenly, it becomes clear. “I won’t be your pawn! I didn’t know what I was getting into with the set-up, and I won’t do it again.”
“This isn’t a set-up. I’m laying my cards on the table.”
I shake my head. “He won’t even let me on the property. He hates me.”
“And you’re going to let that stop you?” Lillian arches a perfect eyebrow. I don’t know what to say. “I misjudged you,” she continues. “You’ve worked hard for your career. I didn’t think you’d let him walk over you like this.”
She opens her purse and takes out a business card. She looks around for a clean surface, then gingerly places it on my purse.
“What do you really want, Juliet? A career, or a broken heart that’s going to get you nowhere? Dominic can’t crush you if you don’t let him.”
She walks out, closing the door behind her with a click.
I catch my breath, reeling. Going back to work at the Rexford… It’s a tempting thought, but I stop it in its tracks. I can’t. If I work for Lillian, Dom will never forgive me. He values loyalty above all else. Lillian says she’s being straight with me, but how do I know this isn’t part of some devious plan to drive Dom and me even further apart?
If only he would talk to me, let me explain that I was never part of her agenda.
I need to see him.
I grab my keys and phone, and rush out the door before I can talk myself out of it. I’ve downed half a box of wine in the last few hours at least, but I manage to flag down a cab a couple of blocks away. Soon, we’re speeding towards downtown.
This is insane, but I can’t stop now! My heart races as we pull up to the side of the Rexford. Dominic is inside—so close, but so much separates us. I have the crazy thought of telling him what Lillian said, of us laughing over the absurdity of it like we would if everything was fine.
I get out and try to think this through. I don’t want to make a scene at the front entrance. Besides, my yoga pants and flip flops don’t really scream ‘I belong’.
I approach the side door, the one I used as an intern, and instinctively reach for the keycard that I no longer have. I recognize the door man and put on a smile.
“Ms. Evans,” he greets, his face giving nothing away. Maybe I can play this off. Each second makes my desperation to see Dom grow. I’m so coiled with it that it feels like something is about to snap inside of me.
“Hey, Rup. Mind letting me in? I don’t have my—”
“Juliet,” he says apologetically. And I know. I know he’s going to deny me. “I can’t let you in. I’m sorry.”
/> “Five minutes.” God, it’s desperate, but I can’t help it. He shakes his head and looks away, dismissing me. What do I do now?
I’m about to try and sneak in the front, when I hear Ray’s voice behind me, talking to someone on their way out.
“Have a good afternoon, Mr. Rexford.”
I whirl back around. It’s Dom. My knees get weak and I want to crumble from relief. He’s looking at his cell phone as he walks, his long legs clad in black pants, a pale blue button down open at the top, suitcoat over his arm. His hair is perfectly tousled as usual and I want to dig my fingers into it. He heads for the sidewalk, where his car is waiting.
My chest squeezes but I find the strength to move toward him. He looks up as I approach. Our eyes meet and warmth floods me. Surprise crosses his beautiful face, and I think, for just a moment, that he’s happy to see me.
“Dominic.”
His face twists. “Stalking me now?”
“I need to talk to you. Please, just a few minutes.”
“I don’t make time for whores.”
I stumble back like I’ve been hit. He sounds furious.
“Dom, please –”
He seems to war with himself for a second, but then his tone comes out harsh. “You took away the only thing that mattered to me, Juliet. The hotel.”
Deep inside, I feared this was going to happen. My dream that he’d listen, that he’d forgive me, crumbles. But I have to know.
“Didn’t I matter?” I ask.
His face is a mask. Unreadable. “What do you think?” Slipping into the car, he slams the door. The car drives away and I’m left alone on the sidewalk with his words ringing in my ears.
Whore.
I know he’s angry, and thinks I set him up, but there’s no excuse for speaking to me like that. I didn’t know the truth when I got into the situation, and he wanted it just as much as I did. But that was the beginning, when it was simple. All sex. Then things got deeper – and way more complicated.
I take a deep breath, and slowly walk away, already thinking about what the hell I can do to make this right. I can’t wallow. I can’t hang on and hope. He wants me to disappear like a bad mistake, but I’m not letting him call the shots anymore – or destroy my career before it’s even begun. I have to figure out a new plan.
The Hotel 3 (The Billionaire Seduction) Page 1
