by Tabatha Kiss
“Yes,” I say, straightening up. “Sorry, I’m just a little... distracted.”
Distracted. Freaking out. On the brink of a major heart episode.
What’s the difference?
Marla chuckles. “I know where he is,” she says. “He’s thinking about her.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s coming home tonight, right?”
“How long has she been gone this time?” Graham asks.
I sigh. “Three weeks,” I answer.
“Oof,” he says.
“Oof,” I repeat.
“Three weeks is nothing,” Marla says. “Jonah was gone for four months for his last tour. At least you know Paige isn’t standing on a stage surrounded by a thousand Eastern European girls screaming her name and flinging their panties at her head.”
Graham and I stare at her.
She blinks. “I’m not worried,” she says as she reaches for her water glass. “You’re worried.”
“I’m not worried,” I say.
“Me neither!”
“Well, I’m a little worried,” I say, clearing my throat. “Not about her getting panties thrown at her head, though. The Majority Leader would never allow it on the floor.”
Graham chuckles. “You nervous about tonight?”
I nod. “Very.”
“Eh.” He waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.”
Marla leans forward. “What’ll be fine?” she asks. “What’s happening?”
Graham raises a brow. “You didn’t tell Marla?”
“Would you tell Marla?” I ask him.
He winces. “Good point.”
“Tell me what?!” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “You’ll know tomorrow.”
She squints with confused, then gasps. “Wait! Are you—”
“Shh!” I raise a finger to her mouth. “She has ears everywhere.”
“Oh, my god!” She hops excitedly on her chair. “That’s why Parker’s covering for you next week!”
“Marla...”
“And why you’re using your vacation days—”
“Marla.”
She slaps her hand to her mouth. “I’ll shut up. Shutting up now.”
“Thank you.” I turn back to Graham. “Only you and Fiona know.” I glare at Marla. “For now.”
She presses her lips together, but they probably won’t stay that way for long. At least I only need her to be cool for another five hours or so.
Then, life as I know it will change forever.
Carpe diem, right?
“Hi, Parker!” Marla says.
I look over my shoulder as the Junior Company Liaison approaches our table.
We recruited Parker Donovan through the internship program at our Boston location. After last year’s shareholders’ convention, we put out a feeler to building managers looking for someone to become the very first Junior Company Liaison. Graham and I had our work cut out for us when replies flooded our inbox within a few hours, but a simple text from Angela ended our search quickly.
You have got to meet this kid.
The rest is history.
He’s no Paige Landon, of course. But he gets the job done.
“Hey, Marla,” he says with a sly wink and a thick accent from home. “Mr. Botsford, how’s the steak today?”
Graham nods at his empty plate. “Delicious as always,” he answers.
“Excellent.” Parker bobs his head at me. “On my way to the airport. Anything last minute requests before I fly home?”
“Nope,” I say. “Have a pleasant flight. Remember, if you need anything—”
“Text or email. Don’t call. I know.”
“But if it’s an emergency—”
“Ask Angela or contact Mr. Botsford here. I know.”
“This is your first solo audit, Parker,” I say. “Boston is small, but... tricky.”
“Which is why I’m spending four days there instead of the usual two.” A smile lights up his youthful face. “Don’t worry about it, Oli. I got this.”
“Okay, but seriously—”
“I can do this job in my sleep.”
“Right.”
“Blindfolded.”
“Just make sure you—”
“Follow the checklist,” he finishes with me. “Oliver, really.” He smirks, cocky and smug, as he taps his clipboard. “I got this.”
I nod. “I’ll see you next week,” I say.
“Bye-bye,” he says with a wave at the table.
As he walks away, I look at Graham with a sigh.
“I didn’t sound that douchey, did I?” I ask.
Graham winces as he reaches over and pats me on the back.
I hold the match to the second candle on the dinner table, putting the finishing touch on the romantic dinner for two. Cloth napkins. Spotless wineglasses. Two dinner plates, kept warm with golden cloches I swiped from room service. A bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket, also swiped from the hotel. All with Graham’s blessing, of course.
Any minute now...
I scan our apartment again for the umpteenth time, but that’s just what you do when you want it to be perfect.
Tidy the living room? Check!
Wipe down the kitchen counters? Check!
Picture the evening over and over until the stress of it gives you a heart attack? In-progress...
But it’ll be fine!
The doorknob turns and my heart leaps into my throat.
It’ll be fine!
The door opens and Paige steps inside with her red and black suitcase dragging behind her.
“Hey!” I say, excited to finally see her. “How was—”
“Wait, wait.” She raises a hand. “Don’t talk to me yet.”
I halt in place. She closes the door behind her. She sheds off her coat and jacket. She kicks up her feet and pulls her high heels off. As she sinks her toes into the carpet, she lets out a deep sigh of comfort and banishes the shoes to the floor.
Home sweet home.
“Better?” I ask.
“Better,” she says with a smile.
I open my arms to her and she falls into them. “I missed you,” I say as I kiss her forehead.
“I missed you!”
“How was your flight?”
“Okay.” She hums, happy in my arms. “All over now.”
“All over now,” I repeat.
We pull back to look at each other. We spend one long, glorious moment in each other’s eyes before coming together for a long, sweet kiss.
Paige steps back with a glance over my shoulder. “What’s that?” she asks.
“What’s what?” I ask.
“The plates. The candles. The mood lighting.” She smirks. “You made me dinner.”
I take her hand and lead her toward the table. “I did, yes.”
“Aww,” she hums. “What’s the occasion?”
“Pretty much you are.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” She sniffs the air. “Smells good.” Another sniff. “Smells like... New York?” she asks with a piqued brow.
“Good nose,” I say.
I pinch the cloche over her plate and pull it off, prompting her jaw to drop.
“Is that a Sicilian sandwich?” she asks.
“It is.” I uncover my plate as well. “Two Sicilians and steak fries. I know you crave it sometimes, so the last time I was in New York, I hung out in the kitchen with Greg for a few hours. He taught me how to make it. The ingredients aren’t one-to-one, unfortunately. Some things you just can’t get outside of the city, but it’s close.”
“It looks amazing, Oli. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I pull out her chair for her and she sits down. “These weekends off together are becoming fewer and farther between, so I wanted to make good use of this one.”
Paige grunts as she reaches for a fry on
her plate. “I know, I’m sorry.”
I sit down across from her. “It’s all right. I’m busy, too.”
“Audit season, right?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
She bristles. “I do not miss that.”
I tilt my head. “Admit it. You kinda do.”
“Okay, maybe a little.” She chuckles as she bites the tip of her fry. “So, how’s Mom?”
“Mom?” I ask.
“Yeah, my mom. You two had lunch this week, right?”
I pause. “How did you know about that?”
“The staff of a United States Senator is full of resources.” She smiles for a moment, then shrugs. “And she told me.”
I sigh, though I’m not really surprised. “What a gossip.”
“She doesn’t have much going on, to be fair.” Paige tilts her eager head. “So, what was your secret lunch about?”
“It wasn’t a secret lunch,” I say.
“Then, why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“I have lunch with your mother all the time, Paige.”
“We have lunch with my mother all the time,” she argues. “You two having lunch alone together is a little out of the ordinary.”
“No, it’s not.”
“One might even say it’s... suspicious.”
“Not out of the ordinary. Not suspicious. I wanted to get out of the hotel and away from Parker for a while, so I had lunch with your mother. End of story.”
Paige leans forward, her eyes squinting with intrigue. “Liar,” she says.
I laugh. “I’m not lying!”
“You’re a dirty, rotten liar.”
“Okay, fine.” I lean in, mimicking her squint. “I didn’t tell you about it because I gave her something last month to hold on to for safekeeping. I retrieved it from her at lunch so I could give it to you tonight.”
Her brow piques. “What was she holding for safekeeping?”
I lean back. “I’m not sure you deserve it anymore.”
“No, I want it,” she whines.
“You called me a liar,” I tease. “You made me feel bad about myself.”
“You’re not a liar!” she says, backpedaling hard. “You’re a wonderful, handsome, generous man and I love you.”
She pouts her bottom lip.
I cave.
“It’s on your pillow,” I say.
Paige fires out of her chair and dashes into the bedroom. I quickly dab my lips with my napkin and stand up to meet her when she rushes back into the living room with the golden-wrapped box. It’s rectangular, about a foot wide, only a few inches thick, but large enough to hold our entire future together.
She holds it up to her ear and gives it a shake. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Rip it open and see.”
“It’s wrapped so well, though...”
She playfully hesitates before pinching a corner and tearing it off. I ignore the paper falling to the floor in favor of catching the look on her face instead.
If I blink, I’ll miss it.
Paige pulls the lid off the box, and her eyes widen. “Oh, what’s this?” She removes the hardback book from inside. “Soulmates in Sixty Seconds? A first edition?” she asks, excited.
I smile as she looks up at me. “Check out the title page,” I say.
She lifts the cover and gasps. “A signed first edition?!”
“Personalized.”
“For Paige,” she reads aloud. “You snagged yourself a good one. Best wishes to you both. Love, Mel Rose. Oh, my god! Oliver!”
“Do you like it?” I tease. “I can’t tell if you like it.”
“I love it! Are you kidding? How did you even get this?”
“The Company Liaison of a billion-dollar corporation is full of resources,” I quip. “Actually, an intern in Chicago made it happen. I got to talking to him a while back and he just so happens to be best friends with Melanie Rose’s younger brother, so...”
“Oh, my god,” she says again. “Oliver, this...”
She opens the book to the middle and goes quiet. A diamond ring sits inside, nestled in a small square of velvet in a hole cut out of the pages. It shines so brightly at her I see it reflecting at me in her glasses.
I lower to one knee. “Paige...”
“Oliver...” She picks up the ring. “You...”
“Will you marry me?”
“You destroyed this book!”
I pause. “What?”
“You cut a hole through a first edition Melanie Rose?” she says, raising her voice. “Are you insane?!”
“Is that a no?” I ask.
“The poor thing...”
“Paige.”
“What?”
I smile at her flustered expression. “Paige, will you marry me?” I ask again.
She pauses, her eyes big and wide as she stares at the ring. I wait on bended knee, each silent second feeling like minutes in time.
“Yes,” Paige finally says.
“Yes that’s a no, or...?”
“Yes!” she says again, her eyes full of tears. “Yes, Oli, I’ll marry you!”
I rise to kiss her, my hands cupping her delicate face. She wraps her arms around me, shaking with shock and excitement, and laughs between long, deep kisses.
“I love you,” I whisper.
She chuckles as warm tears touch my fingers. “I love you,” she says.
I wipe the tears off her cheeks and reach for the ring. She presents her quivering left hand and I slide the ring onto her finger; a perfect fit.
“It’s beautiful,” she says.
“Well, I know how much you like to match, so...” I joke.
She falls back onto her chair at the table with the book on her lap. “I can’t believe this,” she says. “I’m engaged!”
I sit down, too. “You’re engaged!”
“We’re engaged!” She looks at the book again. “And... Melanie Rose knows about it?”
I nod. “She does, yeah.”
“Wow, that’s intense.”
“She gladly sacrificed a copy for a worthy cause. Said so herself.”
“That’s a relief, I guess,” she says, still wincing at the hole.
“And now, we celebrate.” I gesture at the book. “Check the back cover.”
Paige’s eyes narrow, but she obeys, excitedly flipping it over. She opens it and slides two boarding passes out of the dust jacket. “Hawaii?” she reads. “You’re taking me to Hawaii?”
I grin. “We leave tomorrow morning.”
She gasps. “But you hate the beach.”
“Well, a very wise man once told me that love was about compromise and personal sacrifice, so I’m taking one for the team,” I say. “Plus, we have taken no time off together yet this year and I think I can find it in me to survive five days in... Maui.”
“Maui?!” She bounces in her chair, then stops, disappointed. “No.”
“No?”
“Oliver, I can’t go. I have to be back in Washington in two days.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, seriously. Fiona is expecting me on Sunday night. She almost didn’t even let me come home this weekend at all.”
I withdraw a folded letter from my pocket and hand it to her. “That’s odd, because she told me to give you this...”
Paige quickly unfolds it. “From the desk of Senator Botsford...” she reads the letterhead. “Congratulations, Paige. Have a great time in Maui. Ask for Liana at the front desk. She’ll take good care of you. X-O Fiona.” She bites her smiling lip. “P.S. Can’t wait to help you plan your wedding.” She laughs as she looks at me with beautiful, stunned eyes. “Damn, that woman can keep a secret.”
I reach for her hand across the table. I pull it toward me, admiring the ring on her finger before kissing her knuckles.
Paige releases a long, happy sigh. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but is there anything else?” she asks. “Because I don’t think my heart can take much more of thi
s.”
I chuckle. “No, there’s nothing else. One wild night of passionate lovemaking ahead, but other than that, no.”
She considers it for a moment. “I think I can handle that,” she teases.
“Are you sure?” I ask as I lean in.
“Yes.”
“Because I wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself...”
“I can take it,” she whispers, our lips so close.
We kiss. A loving pact for our future together.
“I love you,” I say, our lips grazing.
Paige smiles. “I love you, too, Oli.”
I kiss her again.
And everything magically falls into place.
For a glimpse at Oliver and Paige’s Hawaiian adventure, read their extended epilogue here!
Never fall for a Botsford boy… he’ll break your heart!
The entire Botsford Family star in Heartthrob Hotel, my billionaire romance series! Turn the page to read the opening chapter of Graham’s story, JUST A TOUCH!
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Excerpt: Just a Touch
Graham
Monsoon season. Of all the times to come home again.
If I even make it home again, that is. Las Vegas drivers have no idea how to drive in these infrequent downpours but I must give this taxi driver some credit. We’re not dead yet.
“Sir? Sir?”
The taxi lurches to a stop and the driver mutters something vulgar under his breath before moving on. I watch out my window as the car behind us blares their horn and flips an angry hand gesture in our direction.
“Graham.”
I blink away from the window to find my assistant gawking at me over her blue-rimmed glasses from the seat beside me.
“What is it, Paige?” I ask her.
She tilts her head. “I asked if I could have the night off so I can go see my mother and then your eyes went dead. Are you okay?”
I chuckle. “Right. Yes. Of course. Take the weekend, actually.”
“Sweet,” she says, pitching her voice. She turns back to her phone and texts away. “Not gonna argue against a weekend in Vegas.”
“Just be back at the hotel first thing Monday morning,” I say. “We’ll be in and out of meetings all week and I—”
“Need me?” she says, batting her young eyes. “Can’t live without me?”
