“Well, when you mentioned that you worked for a prestigious firm in Chicago, it reminded me that my old assistant had been working to find us a designer to redo several of our locations. I figured it was a sign we were meant to meet.” I flash her my best charming grin, but she doesn’t seem to take the bait. I want to ask her why she seems so different from that night at the airport…was it the booze? Maybe the whirlwind of all of the events that had taken place that day? Gone is the carefree woman who wasn’t afraid to tell off the drunk dude who tried hitting on her, and in her place is a stoic, if not demure, young woman.
“Ms. Dwyer thought I’d be a good fit for the job. I must say, it’s a very large and in-depth project. I’m excited to get started working with you.” She doesn’t miss a beat, keeping her calm exterior as she speaks. I don’t tell her that I asked for her specifically. I think the owner was reluctant to send over someone so fresh, but I demanded she be the one I work with.
Straight to business: that’s how she is going to be. I have to admit, her uptight demeanor amuses me more than it should. I may have to break the ice a little.
“Pleasure to be working with you.” I walk away from her and over to the bar on the far side of the office. “Can I get you a drink? Vodka martini perhaps?”
If straight to business is what she wants, it is the last thing she is going to get. I take my time pouring myself a shot of aged whiskey before turning around to face her.
“No, thank you, Mr. Crawford. I don’t drink very often, and not before noon.”
“Only at airport bars with strangers.”
I can see the lack of enthusiasm on her face.
“Well, I’d hate to have you break your ‘never before noon’ rule so I guess we can pick that back up later.” I throw a wink at her as I walk back over to the desk with a low chuckle.
“Thanks again for keeping me company at the airport. I must say, I appreciated our encounter and was sad it ended so soon.”
Her posture is stiff as she pulls on the hem of her skirt. “Mr. Crawford, did you call my firm and ask for me specifically to work on this contract?”
I was waiting for this question. “Yes.” She stares at me, blinking rapidly.
“Why?”
“Why not? I was in need of a designer, and when you mentioned your job, I took the chance.”
“Yes, that makes sense, but I am merely a junior designer. Why not have one of our senior associates handle this? Why did you ask for me?” I can tell there’s an unspoken question there.
“Because I want you.” I can see her swallow hard. “I liked your tenacity when I met you, and I only want you touching my assets.” It’s a cheap innuendo, but it works, as she shifts again in her seat.
Working with her is going to be a trip; lucky for her, I welcome a good challenge. I’m sure Alison did her due diligence and Googled me. I’m aware of what pops up though I don’t make it a habit to research myself anymore. It is only a half story. I always love when someone thinks they know who I am based off something they read or saw about me online, not that I feel any judgement from her. Perhaps my own insecurities getting the better of me.
Keeping half of myself secret is one of my greatest pleasures. Let them all think I’m a typical playboy and daredevil looking for my next conquest or adrenaline rush. I know the truth, and those closest to me know it as well. Something inside me wants to let Alison know the truth, too, but if she is going to assume she can learn about me from what she reads online, then I will let her have her little illusions for now.
“Well, thank you then for allowing me this opportunity. I know our initial meeting was very unorthodox and I was completely out of sorts, so I don’t want you to think that is the kind of approach I will be taking with this position.”
“Oh trust me, Alison, I don’t doubt your abilities for a second. In fact, I’m confident you can handle any position I put you in.”
Two seconds after seeing her again and I am already picturing those red heels up by my ears and my name tumbling from her full lips…fuck me, this is going to be hard.
Chapter 5
Alison
I stare at myself in the floor-length mirror, smoothing out my outfit and making sure it isn’t stuck in any ill-fitting spots. I know it’s a silly thing to enjoy about a job, but I love being able to express myself a little through fashion. I meet with clients pretty regularly, so of course, it is encouraged. I slick on a pinky-nude gloss to finish off my polished look.
I have an entire zoo of butterflies in my stomach as my Uber makes its way over to Castille Hotels corporate office. I’m always nervous meeting first-time clients, but they usually aren’t men that can make me throw my moral code out the window with one look. Not to mention, the last time I saw Mr. Crawford, my hormones shot into overdrive and I felt the need to squeeze my thighs together for some sweet relief.
Pulling up to the building, my nerves only heighten. An imposing edifice with Castille Hotels emblazoned in gold letters across the top. I can’t help but wonder…compensating for something?
I take a deep breath and shake off my nerves as I enter the building and make my way to the reception desk. “Uh, hi, my name is Alison Ryder. I have an appointment this morning with Mr. Vincent Crawford.”
The petite redhead behind the desk doesn’t miss a beat. “Please sign in on the iPad, Miss Ryder.” She motions to the one mounted to her left. “Here is your visitor’s badge; please wear it in a visible spot for the duration of your visit. Mr. Crawford’s office is on the top floor; you’re going to want to go through the turnstiles behind you and take the first bank of elevators to your right. Once you reach the top floor, take an immediate left, and a Mrs. Windmeyer will be there to show you to Mr. Crawford’s office.” She gives me a curt smile and nod as if to signal that the conversation is over.
“Thank you,” I say as I finish signing in, then turn around to follow her directions. My heels click on the marble floor as I follow a group of employees to the elevators. By the time I reach the top floor, I am the last person on board. I nervously step out and look to my left to see a small, white-haired lady waiving me towards her desk. I look around the floor as I make my way toward Mrs. Windmeyer.
“Hello, Miss Ryder; lovely to meet you.” She stands and gives me a hearty handshake for such a small woman. “You have such a cute figure; I remember when I looked like that.” She winks at me as she ushers me toward the massive solid oak doors of Mr. Crawford’s office. She knocks as she pushes the door open. “Mr. Crawford, there’s a Miss Ryder here for your appointment.”
I turn and thank her for the lovely compliment as I enter Vincent’s office. It is more in line with what I pictured than the sterile outside. Everything looks as if it were handpicked for him. Rich mahogany, deep jewel tones, and gold accents surround the room. It is opulent and classy without being gaudy. Clearly, he paid a pretty penny for this office.
Vincent stands and walks around his desk to greet me; I hadn’t realized the first time we met how impressive his stature was…just like the building he had picked for his business. It isn’t just that he is uncharacteristically tall or built, but the way he carries himself commands your attention. His three-piece Savile Row suit is impeccably tailored and for some unknown, godforsaken reason, my eyes drop to his crotch!
I knew what I was getting myself into when I entered Vincent’s office. At least, I thought I did. I was a little unprepared for what Vincent Crawford was like in real life. Offering me a drink at ten in the morning threw me off kilter. I was almost kicking myself for not taking it when he went back to his desk. But then again, what kind of impression would that have made?
He isn’t the same guy I met at the airport, but then again, I was entirely out of character then as well. Maybe he was, and I was too wrapped up in my pity party and alcohol to clearly remember the events. One thing is for sure though: he’s even hotter than I remember. He has to be well over six feet, and his silky hair and piercing eyes are a deadly combo. Part
of me wants to rip that expensive suit off his rock-hard body and pick up where we left off at the airport.
“So, I took the liberty of doing some research on your hotel chain.” I pull two folders out of my bag, handing him one and keeping the other. There is a lot of detail with this job to get through, so setting expectations with him and getting him to focus is paramount to success.
“I included some of my previous projects in that file, a small portfolio, if you will, of my design career. I’m sure you have your ideas and visions for this renovation; just think of me as your professional guide in this journey.”
Vincent doesn’t say anything as he flips through the documents, glancing over them quickly. “Well, Miss Ryder, I’m very impressed. I think you went above and beyond in your preparation for this meeting. I get the sense that this is how you operate in all facets of life?”
“Uh, yeah…yes. You could say I’m a bit of an overachiever. My fiancé calls me a very organized and compassionate psychopath,” I say as a nervous laugh escapes my lips.
“Fiancé? You two have mended things?”
“Er…ex-fiancé. Sorry, I’m still not used to saying that.” I fidget with the file. It’s been a few months since I ended things with Brian, but that word still creeps in now and then.
“No need to apologize. I probably shouldn’t have inquired anyway; none of my business.” There is a moment of awkward silence before he places the portfolio on the table between us.
“I suppose you’ll want me to start here in Chicago?” I shoot him a look across the desk, then glance back down at my file, making sure to keep my voice and demeanor strictly business.
“Yes, Chicago first, then New York, Denver, Hawaii, and Iceland. Maybe a few other locations after that. We can work out travel plans as we go, I suppose. I’ll be sure to have my secretary copy you on all travel arrangements.”
I jot down the list and avoid letting my eyes go wide at the last few destinations. It wasn’t everyone who could say that they were going to get paid to go and stay in a luxury hotel at any of those destinations as part of their work. It was one of the perks of the job, in this case. Though something about the last sentence catches me off guard.
“We?” I stop typing and glance up at Vincent, narrowing my eyes. “Does that mean you’ll be coming with me, Mr. Crawford?”
I hold my breath, hoping the answer is no. That would make this job so much easier than it is shaping up to be, but something tells me I’m not going to get the answer I am looking for.
“Well, that is the plan.” The chuckle in his voice is clear. He isn’t even trying to hide it this time.
“Well then…” I clear my throat again and try to take the surprise out of my reply. “I suppose we’re going to be working together for a long while.”
This is going to take an adjustment. I already feel like an adolescent with her first schoolyard crush sitting in his office. Sneaking glances at the way he’s rolled his sleeves up to expose his defined forearms or the sharp cut of his jawline. I had hoped the traveling would come as a stress reliever with all of the extensive work this contract includes, but now I’ll be an anxious mess with my guard up the entire time.
“I promise not to be too much of a boss, Alison. I’m sure you know that I’m a fan of having a good time. Or didn’t you read that about me in all of your research?” He gestures towards the tablet in my lap. He is mocking me now, judging from the tone of voice and the look in his eye. As frustrating as he is, I keep my composure and give him the fakest smile I can muster.
“I’m sure we’ll get along famously, Mr. Crawford.” I put emphasis on the Mr. It doesn’t escape my notice that he refused to use the same formality with me. I’m not about to let him think I am comfortable around him by calling him Vincent; this relationship needs boundaries.
“Oh, I’m certain of it.” He shoots me another seductive grin, running his hand through his vibrant hair. Why does he have to be so good looking? It would have been a lot easier to hate him if he weren’t so disarming.
The photos online don’t do the playful light in his eyes justice, or the way his face twitches involuntarily into that smile that makes my core clench. If I could kick myself, I would. That little voice inside that keeps my head on straight is screaming at me to stop lusting and stay focused. I just need to listen.
“So, I have some ideas I’d like to discuss with you about each of the hotels along with this file. Overall, they have a similar feel, but I want each of them to have their own details. The colors and decor should match the city that they’re located in. Some of the buildings are historic, and it would be a shame to lose that history. It’s going to be vital for you to visit each hotel and the surrounding cities. Each of them should feel like a luxurious but integral part of the city they’re in.” His face lights up as he speaks about his hotels; I can feel the passion in the tone of his voice.
“What would be perfect for Chicago is going to be ridiculous in Iceland and so on. I know I’ve thrown a lot at you this morning but for the moment, do you have any questions?” He raises an eyebrow. The idea of creating custom designs for each location is exciting, and the fact that he seems to have a clear vision for each one is promising and should make my job easier.
“Just one. When would you like to head over to the first hotel?” I put my focus back on the tablet in my lap, opening it to the calendar to thumb through my appointments, ready to put in a date that is going to work with his schedule. In the end, I am at his disposal.
“Why not right now?” He stands up while gesturing toward his office door.
“Oh, uh…ok.”
I was expecting him to suggest something later in the week. Maybe him giving me the contact information to get in touch with the hotel manager to make an appointment. Instead, he’s grabbing his suit jacket from the coat rack in the corner and shrugging it on over his shoulders while I scramble to gather my things.
He glances back at me while I’m still stuck in the chair, working to gather my items and place them strategically in my shoulder bag.
“Are you coming?” The look on his face is simultaneously annoying and enchanting. I scramble up from my seat, rushing over to join him.
“Of course, Mr. Crawford. You’ll have to excuse me. I wasn’t expecting you to want to get started right this minute.” I follow him out of the door and to the elevator bank across from his office without a word from his secretary we pass on the way.
Maybe that’s what working for this man means. You have to roll with the punches and be ready to fly by the seat of your pants, ready to jump off a bridge or out of an airplane at any second. I had hoped all my research would keep me one step ahead of Vincent Crawford, and I feel like I am already failing miserably.
“Starting today is not a problem, is it? Did you have somewhere else you needed to be?” The elevator dings and opens smoothly, almost soundlessly, in front of us. He places his hand on my lower back, ushering me into the box. His fingertips feel like they’re going to burn through my shirt.
I shake my head as if that will help, stepping aside to let him hit the button for the ground floor. His arm brushes against my shoulder as I stand next to him. It’s not enough that he’s rich and powerful, but his looming stature and confidence seem to permeate the entire space.
“No, sir. You are my only focus until this job is complete.” I almost hate to admit it to him, but he ought to know that the firm is putting as much effort as possible into his project.
“Oh?” I can hear the smirk in his voice without bothering to look over at his face. “Well, I’m flattered, but I’m certain you have something else to take your focus, at least during your free time.”
There is a question there without him asking it. No, there isn’t much else to take up my focus or time. I have a few friends, my sister being the main person in my life. I don’t have a dog or a cat, not even a house plant that is going to wither while I am away. It is depressing to admit it. Now that I am single, I have all
the time in the world.
Maybe he is trying to find out some more info on the ex-fiancé situation. I had completely forgotten that I confided in him about that. I can feel a red blush creeping up my neck at the memory.
“I’m free to travel wherever and whenever, Mr. Crawford, and trust me when I say that there’s nothing that’s going to be a distraction from my work. I take my job very seriously, and I want to reassure you that I will be fully dedicated to this project.”
I keep my focus on the doors of the elevator and am more than a little relieved when they open. Being that close to Vincent Crawford had been more than I was prepared to handle.
“Well, in that case, I can’t wait to use you to your fullest capabilities,” he says as the doors open and I trip, spilling my belongings all over the floor and falling right into his arms.
Chapter 6
Vincent
I reach my arms out just in time as Alison catapults out of the elevator. Her bag and papers scatter across the floor as my right hand grabs her side, and my left hand lands squarely on her right breast.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” I ask as she scrambles to regain her balance and adjust her top and skirt. I quickly pull my hand back as we both look down at its resting place.
“Yes, sorry, I think my heel got caught on the space there.” She’s clearly embarrassed as bends down to gather her things.
“Here let me help you.” I pick up the papers that flew out of her bag and hand them back to her.
“Shall we?” I reach out my arm to her, trying to make light of the situation.
“I’m sure I can manage it; thanks though.” An exasperated smile spreads across her face as we make our way from the elevator and out of my office to the hotel lobby across the street.
Claimed By Him: (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 47
