8
Jessi
Why am I still thinking about that bastard?
I was in the middle of my shift, finishing dessert after dessert for the guests. I wasn’t my usual efficient self because that bastard was still in my head even hours later. I found myself making mistakes. They were little mistakes, not the kind of things just anyone could notice, but a few of my fellow cooks were shooting me curious looks.
Fuck. I couldn’t get the attention of the head chef. I couldn’t stand that guy most days because he was so damn bossy.
“Jessi?”
“Hm?” I whirled around when someone called my name, to find one of the servers standing awkwardly to the side.
“Um, I’m waiting for the strawberry shortcake slices? Are you done?”
“Oh!” I looked back to where I was still decorating them. “I’m so sorry! I thought I finished already. Just give me a quick minute!”
I didn’t know whether he would take the lie, but he stood silently as I finished decorating. It came out pretty good, but I still winced as I watched them get carried away. I was my own worst critic, even when I got praise. The taste would be good, but it was also supposed to look good, and while that quick job made it look okay, it was not my usual best.
“You’ve got to get it together,” I told myself, taking in a deep breath, then letting it out. “Calm, completely calm, think about nothing but work…”
I was so focused trying to calm my thoughts, I didn’t notice when someone else walked up to me.
“Jessi?”
For the second time, I was startled into whirling around. Mark was standing in front of me.
“Do I have another order?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly, giving me a strange look as he handed over the slip. “Are you okay, though? Because you’re distracted today, and if it’s going to be a problem and you need some help…?”
“No, no,” I jumped in quickly, waving my hands. “It’s nothing, just feeling a little tired because I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” Well, it was true. I could barely sleep because all I could think about was Trent, and how much I hadn’t wanted to run into him again. It had happened anyway. “I promise I’m good to work, so don’t worry.”
“Okay,” he said, then shrugged and turned to go back to his area, shooting a last look at me.
Now that I was paying attention to the people in the room, I realized a lot of them kept shooting me looks. They were all probably worried because I wasn’t acting like myself. Ever since I’d started working there, I’d never been anything but professional. But then there’d never been any personal feelings to get in the way of work before.
I wish I could talk to Laura right now, I thought to myself wistfully, but it would have to wait.
I hadn't told her much about what went down between Trent and me, back then or recently, but I’d told her enough. Plus, Laura had listened to our whole exchange earlier which meant I had to tell her a bit more to explain.
Now she knew about my embarrassing crush. The one that a lot of my friends back in high school had known about, but they’d all feigned ignorance to protect my pride. I was pretty sure they realized when I got rejected, too, but then I stopped talking to them after that—so few as they were—and isolated myself for the following few years as I worked hard through school for the sake of landing a scholarship.
“We’re going out tonight,” had been Laura’s deciding words. “I thought we could set the plan for a few days later, or maybe in a couple of weeks, but after all that, you’re going to need something tonight.”
I’d listened to her declaration because she added we would need good tiramisu—that we would be making ourselves—to make a proper evening of it. It was one of my favorite desserts, so I was all for it.
I had a lot of work to do, and nothing else should be on my mind, I reminded myself. Nothing!
“Jessi! We’ve got more orders, so move it, will you?” I heard from behind me somewhere and gave a wave of acknowledgment.
“Sorry!” I called out an apology, taking the next slip of paper.
Normally, the menu would be planned, and I had about thirty percent option in the planning. My menu changed every few days to add or remove certain pastries or desserts, though there were some that always remained because they were old favorites and always sold out. I knew there could be lots of orders and it would be too ridiculous to try and bake a cake when they were asked for, so I had several different types of cakes baked from earlier in the morning once I started my shift.
The day passed by slowly for me after the lunch service, which always happened when the only thing that I wanted it to do was to go by quickly, so I didn’t get distracted again. By the time I’d finished making all the dessert orders for the evening, I was worn out. Everyone else cleared out of the kitchens, leaving me alone.
Laura found me lying down on a couch in the staff room twenty minutes later.
“Tired?” she guessed, then let out a loud sigh. “Me too. No, I’m exhausted. Tired is just a small way to describe how I feel at the moment and I felt even worse when I heard the good news.”
I arched an eyebrow at her.
“What good news?” I asked.
She smiled brightly, her voice sounding fake when she brightly exclaimed. “Mason’s plane landed today! He’s also at the hotel, right at this very moment!”
“I didn’t hear that,” I said, frowning.
She sighed, plopping down across from me again, fake bright expression dropping. “That’s because he hasn’t started making demands or making a mess yet. I heard he came to the hotel and went right up to the office.”
She stopped and looked at me with a deep frown, but I didn’t need her to finish her sentence. He must have gone to where Trent was.
“Well,” I said, jumping off the couch, suddenly energetic. “Do you want to start cooking here or in the kitchens? I even bought extra ingredients, so we won’t have to use anything of the hotel’s.”
I headed over to the small staff room kitchen, and Laura followed behind me.
“I thought we’d be doing this at your place,” she admitted.
I sighed. “Yeah, but my quarters are a bit too small to cook in. I usually just eat all my meals here or go to my mom’s.”
“Over at the mansion?”
I nodded. “And I won’t be going back there for a while.”
Hopefully, there would be no more accidental run-ins with Trent in the hotel, and I could survive his trip without seeing his face one more time.
“So how are we doing this?” Laura asked as I set up the ingredients on the counter. “I cook some, but I don’t bake, so you’re going to have to teach me.”
“That’s fine. We’ll go together. I have this recipe that I love off the top of my head, so I’ll just give you directions, and you can help me. Is that okay?”
She grinned at me with growing excitement. “Definitely!”
We started, me calling out for Laura to measure ingredients and hand them over to me as I mixed the batter, then left it to her as I went around setting the oven to preheat, and preparing the tray that would go in. I went back to layer the cake, and between the two of us, the preparation was done in no time, and I was sliding it into the oven.
“That was surprisingly easy,” Laura said, watching the oven’s glass window.
“Baking is pretty easy when you get used to it, actually, so it’s no surprise. I’ve been doing it with my mom since I was a kid.”
She hummed. “I never really did much with my mom growing up. Except maybe argue.”
I frowned at her. “Do you guys not get along? Is that why you don’t tell me about your family?”
“No, I don’t talk about them because there’s nothing to talk about. I’m not as close to them as you are with yours, but we’re okay.”
I looked after the baking cake as she went around the kitchen, looking for a couple of long glasses, then finding where the wine bottles were stashed.
“What do you think would go best with this?” she asked.
It made sense she would ask me, as the chef and all, and I went over to see the selection. I picked a light red, a sweet wine that would just be perfectly coupled with the dessert. No one would mind seeing it missing as long as I replaced it, as was the silent rule with all the staff.
Once the cake was ready to be decorated, I had to be the one to do it. Laura just stood to the side and watched as I started to work my magic on the food; it wasn't so much about the taste of the cake, but all about the presentation. Something I prided myself on doing well. When I’d layered the cake with the filling we moved back over to the couch and sat down, cake and wine settled on the coffee table in front of us.
“Now, where were we?” Laura asked, looking at me as she took a sip from her glass.
I sighed. “We’re eating cake, not talking about Trent. The last thing I want to do is talk about him right now.”
She nodded in understanding. “You know you can talk to me anytime though, right? And Emily too.”
I snorted. “No way. I know him way better than she does, but she’s still his sister, you know? It would be awkward.”
“I suppose,” she admitted, her expression thoughtful. “Though she’s a good enough friend if you wanted to badmouth her brother in front of her, she’d probably just join you.”
I didn’t argue with that. I missed Emily, but she hadn't shown up at the hotel, and I wasn’t going back to the mansion now. And I imagined she must have been busy with her Dad being ill. I didn’t know if Laura knew that part of the rumors yet, but I didn’t mention it just in case. It wasn’t my story to tell.
We spent our time gossiping and eating the tiramisu, quickly going through the wine. By the time the bottle was empty, we were just starting to enjoy ourselves, so Laura picked another random bottle and opened it. Time was passing but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have the early shift in the morning.
After what felt like hours, we were finally getting exhausted and leaned against each other on the couch. I drank the last of my wine and reached over to set my glass on the table, nearly falling over in the process. Laura caught me, saving the glass from slamming into the coffee table with my forearm. I winced at the light ache, then we both dissolved into girlish giggles.
Laura sighed. “Oh, this was fun. I don’t know why we didn’t try it earlier.”
I smiled wryly. “If we did this often our jobs might be in jeopardy. And do you know how much that wine we drank costs? If it hadn't tasted so good, I’d be crying over my bank account right now.”
“Really?” she asked, looking at me with a wince. “Do you need me to help you pay for it?”
I waved her off. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll handle it tomorrow. Hopefully, no one will need those two bottles for anything.”
She let out another sigh. “It’s getting pretty late. I should probably be getting home now…”
“Call for a taxi before you step outside,” I said in warning. “The area is pretty safe, but it’s better to be cautious.”
She nodded as she took her phone from her purse and dialed for one. I waited for her until the taxi came, and we parted with a hug, her going to take her taxi, me heading up the stairs to my room.
I was a little tipsy on the steps, and the heaviness of my shoes didn’t help. I didn’t let myself drink all that often, especially since my parents didn’t like it and only took the occasional champagne or wine during a party at the mansion themselves. But I’d already tried the elevator, and I was just tipsy enough that it seemed I couldn’t get it to work.
Maybe it’s broken, I thought, as I started up the first set of stairs.
I lived several floors up in a room tucked away from the guests’ rooms. It was exhausting, climbing up all those steps, and I kept stopping to take a breath and going so slow it took me ten times longer than it would have taken if I’d just gone for the elevator. I could have gone for the one in the lobby used by the guests, but it was a rule that the staff and hotel guests mixed as little as possible outside of duties.
“Finally,” I muttered to myself after clearing another set of stairs, to realize I’d made it to my floor.
I pulled the door to exit the stairs, stumped for a moment when it wouldn’t open. Then I remembered I was supposed to push it, so I did. Only I pushed with too much force and went barreling out—right into the wide chest of the one person I didn’t want to see at that moment.
Trent.
“Hey, there,” he said, catching me as I fell into him, and looking at me with a frown. “Do you ever watch where you’re going, Jessi?”
But I was hardly paying attention to his words, because for the first time since he’d got back, I was looking at him and not trying to find the teenage kid I’d known in the grown man’s face.
“Trent,” I murmured more to myself than him. “Fancy meeting you here.”
He frowned harder, but I was hardly paying attention to his bad mood.
It was like looking at him for the first time, as though I hadn't really seen the man Trent had become before. I hadn't noticed, but he had changed. Just like me. He’d been a high school boy before, closer to the end of puberty than I was. Being this close to him again and looking at him now, I could see those changes.
In the swift brutal moments I’d seen him before, I hadn’t had time to notice that his shoulders had broadened, and he must either be the outdoors type or go to the gym a lot because the muscles I could feel under my hands beneath his suit coat were very well developed. Enough that I had to swallow back spit because I was just chomping at the bit to see.
When did I even put my hands on him? When did I land on him?
He’d been muscled when he was younger, but had he been this big? He might have gained a couple of inches to reach his current six foot five, though it could just be my mind highlighting how delectable he was now than when he’d been an arrogant little boy making me miserable.
I was different from the girl I’d been back then, too. I was a woman now, and my body lit up with our proximity as if to remind me of it. I gasped as my body began to grow warm, especially burning where he had his hands on the small of my back, thumbs digging a little into my waist.
Our bodies were pressed together, and I could feel my nipples harden under my clothes, aching where we were pressed together. And when I squirmed, it sent pleasure curling in my abdomen, making my body tremble.
“Why does your breath smell so sweet?” Trent suddenly asked, the look on his face changing.
I couldn’t say anything in return, because all I could think was how handsome he was, with his light gray eyes and blond hair with a gold tint. How beautifully hurt he looked every time I saw him, even when he was putting up a front for everyone else. I was the one who’d seen him in the times when he’d allowed himself to look vulnerable. I knew he wasn’t the type to just forget his pain. Even after all these years, he would carry it with him.
All those thoughts swirling through my head were what kept me so preoccupied that I didn’t even try to pull away from his arms.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I drunk a little wine with my dessert.” Though it was more like a lot. Sharing two bottles of wine between two people…
“Were you just out?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost distracted as he watched my lips and eyes.
I wondered why he wasn’t pushing me away.
“Um, no.” I tilted my head toward the stairs. “I was just in the staff room with a friend, but she doesn’t stay here like I do.”
“You’re not slurring. But I guess you did fall on me,” he said with a quirk on his lips.
I pouted, but I didn’t miss that this was the nicest he’d been to me in years. Not since we were kids.
As if he suddenly seemed to realize, he caught himself and went to pull away from me. I wasn’t having it, though. I hadn't been this close to him before, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne and feel his breath on my face.
My body moved instinctively on its own, my arms circling his throat and holding him close as I rose up on the tips of my toes, eyes sliding closed as I slid my mouth over his.
There go my inhibitions, I thought, not caring. I’d wanted this for so long, since the first time I’d kissed him, and I was just tipsy enough to have the courage not to back away from what I wanted when I’d finally had him caught off guard.
Trent let out a gasp, and I took advantage. I slid my tongue through his parted lips and explored the inside of his mouth, tentatively at first. His body had gone still against mine, but I didn’t stop, coaxing him into the kiss until he hesitantly kissed me back. With both of us participating, the kiss quickly grew in passion, and I found myself clinging to him and panting as our lips parted and met in kiss after kiss.
“Fuck,” Trent growled, his breathing ragged when he finally pulled away. “We’re out in the damn hallway.”
I didn’t care. My eyes were closed, my thoughts still muddled from his latest kiss, and I was already leaning in for more. He didn’t push me away, accepting the kiss.
Then abruptly, with another curse, he shoved me off him. I blinked up at him, feeling a little unbalanced on my heels. He kept one hand on my arm and dragged me behind him as we went down the hallway.
“I can't believe I’m fucking doing this,” I heard Trent mutter under his breath.
I felt a moment of clarity, wondering just what I was doing too. Trent seemed all for it, but the plan had been to stay away from him, right? I should have left him alone and continued to my room. If he’d been the same asshole from this morning, I would have.
But then he had the door open and he was pulling me inside, turning on the lights and shoving me up against the door, his body following to brace me against it.
“Trent!” I gasped, my breathing picking up again.
He pressed himself fully against me again, and this time I could feel the obvious bulge against my hip. Before I could say anything, his lips were slanted over mine and he was kissing me again. My hands clutched onto his biceps as I squirmed against him, wanting so much more. Whimpers, gasps, and moans fell out of my mouth between the kisses, and he didn’t stop until I was almost passing out from lack of breath.
Room Service Page 7
