“They’re not here,” Bea repeats, somehow keeping her voice from getting snippy .
The woman shrugs helplessly. “No… they’re not here anymore. I mean they were here? But someone gave them away .”
“Okay,” Bea says with a smile, her voice calm and friendly. I think she would make a really good hostage negotiator. “So what are we going to do about this… Linda? What are our options ?”
“Options?” Linda repeats. “Well… I mean… there’s only one room left available. But it’s a double. Two beds? Would that work ?”
Bea looks at me, shrugging. “You want to be roommates ?”
“Do we really have a choice?” I ask, trying to be polite but not entirely thrilled. Being in the room next to her sounded all right, but actually shacking up with her is a little intense. Bea snores, for one thing. And she likes to hook up with strange men, for another .
“I think that would be lovely, Linda,” Bea finally coos supportively. “Thank you so much for working this out for us .”
“Well, I’ll just reverse the other charges… We’ll get this all set… And you know what? I’ll get you a really good price. Okay? I’m so sorry for the inconvenience .”
After Linda slides us the room key cards, we turn away, finally able to roll our eyes .
“You handled that really well,” I marvel. “Is that part of your career plan? Were you just interviewing for a job ?”
Bea emphatically thumbs the elevator button. “I was trying out that Power of Yes theory that guy gave us in us that speech this morning, you remember? And it totally worked! I seriously thought she was going to have us staying at the Motel 8 .”
“You were listening to that guy?” I mumble as we get into the elevator, dragging our luggage behind us. It was first thing this morning: a man giving a lecture in a droning voice over the PA when we had first arrived. I didn’t even listen to him. I was so focused on trying to tune everything out and wait for my coffee to start working .
“Yeah, Ava, how could you avoid it? It was over the speakers. But I guess he was right. Smiling and thinking yes yes yes really does seem to have a positive impact on people .”
I hold out the paper folder Linda gave me .
“Bea, is this right? Is this number on a top floor ?”
Bea looks down, scowling at the folded brochure with our room number on it. She glances at the buttons in the elevator .
“I guess so,” she mutters. “I mean… let’s just try it and see what happens .”
When the elevator doors open, we step tentatively out into the hallway, unsure if we’re really supposed to be here. The signage on the walls points to the left, with the words Executive Suite .
“Well, would you look at that ?”
We practically tiptoe down the hallway, excited and nervous. Bea goes faster as she gets closer, rolling her suitcase behind her with the key card outstretched. When she gets to the door, she slides the card in. I hear the bolts unlock and she flings open the door triumphantly. White, cool light floods the hallway as she stands there, her arms outstretched, making excited noises .
“Bea, wait up, why are you getting so... OHH !”
I bark my shin on her discarded overnight bag, almost face planting with my hands flying out blindly in front of me. Just before I hit the textured carpet, I feel something strong, firm, and quick sweep me up like a rag doll .
Confused, I flinch backward, almost stumbling again. He stands in front of me, concern clouding his features. Charcoal-gray silk stretches over his broad shoulders. His firm hands cup under my elbows protectively. I stare up into his bright, sky-blue eyes, seeing all his details at once: the silken sheen of his hair, the slight stubble along his square jaw, the sensual curl of his upper lip .
“Are you all right, miss ?”
My mouth opens for just a second, then clamps closed again. I nod, panicked. I want to say something, but nothing wants to come out .
Bea hears us and comes to the door. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going—oh! Well, hello ?”
“Hello,” he repeats, without looking over at her. His eyes search mine, but he doesn’t seem to recognize me at all. Still, he’s not looking away. I feel frozen, as though trapped in amber .
“Oh, did I just leave my bag out there? Silly me!” Bea babbles, trying to cover for me. I feel her fingers snake around my elbow as she tugs me toward the room, breaking me out of my trance .
“Yeah, I think I nearly tripped …”
“Where is my head at?” she laughs, a little too loud. “We’re so sorry to bother you, um, sir …”
“You’re sure you’re all right?” he asks. His voice is thick and smooth, like something sweet. Like something delicious to eat .
I somehow manage to nod and pull away slightly, thankful that I’m still standing upright, hopeful that I’m not actually bleeding or anything like that .
“Totally fine, just didn’t see the bag. The light was so bright I guess .”
“Well, if you’re sure,” he says, straightening up and releasing me. He gives us each a polite nod and another glimpse of his smile before walking away. Bea halfway hangs out in the hallway, watching his thighs and buttocks churn in his Armani slacks .
“Oh my God,” Bea sighs .
“That’s him,” is all I can say .
“I know, sweetie,” Bea coos sympathetically, tugging me by my elbow. She leans toward the small hallway table and picks up a box. “Look! Chocolate !”
“What?” I ask vaguely, looking at the box. Then I remember to look around. The room isn’t just a room—it’s a suite. We stand in the living room, gawking at the luxurious, oversized furnishings .
“Well, jeez, this is way better than a queen-sized room,” I observe .
“We have a balcony!” Bea cheers, skipping toward the wide row of windows and sliding doors .
“And separate rooms!” I call out, happy to think there will be ample privacy between us .
“Man, this is nice!” she yelps, hanging briefly in her bedroom’s doorway before trotting back toward me. She takes a quick detour and yanks open the honor bar door. “Look!” she squeals. “Champagne !”
“What? Really ?”
I hear the unmistakable pop as she immediately opens the bottle, before I can even ask if we can afford it. She pours two glasses and hands me one with a wink .
“Cheers,” she smiles, tapping her glass against mine. “You know what this means, right, Ava ?”
I take a careful sip, feeling the bubbles tickling my nose .
“What does it mean ?”
“It’s a sign, Ava!” she chirps. “All this… it’s a sign! Great things are gonna happen to us this weekend !”
Chapter 23
ETHAN
I hear the sound of the door closing and walk the other way, while little strands of their voices continue looping through my mind. There was something incredibly familiar about that woman, wasn’t there? Or are they all just a little bit the same ?
I’ve always had a thing for her type, but she really had me going. Those hips, the way she was practically spilling out of that conservative button-down top… Yes. Definitely my type of girl .
And a little too easy in my arms, honestly. It was so simple to catch her before she hit the floor, like I’d done it a million times. I almost felt like I’ve really looked at her before. Probably just a common look. Bright blue eyes, caramel-colored hair… not an unusual sight in San Francisco, for sure .
When I saw her coming up to the executive suite, she took me aback. No one else is supposed to be on this floor today. I’ve got a speech to prepare for. At first I was annoyed, but then sort of amused because it looked like she was going to stumble straight over the luggage in the hallway. Then when she did, I’m not really sure what came over me. Instincts took control, and I automatically reached out to retrieve her, right before she landed on the floor. She just fell right into my hands, like a bird falling out of a tree .
But I don’t
have time to think about that now. I stare at my laptop, trying to refresh my memory of the last few slides in the presentation. It’s the same old same old, but I like to keep it fresh. People expect me to say things like follow your dream. Work hard. It’ll all happen for you if you are ambitious and worthy .
I know that it’s complete horseshit .
The truth is, you can work the same amount and still spend your life digging ditches and flipping hamburgers. CEOs don’t work harder than bowling alley cashiers or nurses. What really separates us is luck. I just got lucky .
Who wants to hear me give a speech about that ?
Perry comes in to the presidential suite. I hear him in the parlor, refilling the ice buckets and making himself useful .
“Are you just about ready ?”
“Just another moment,” I say, waving him off. Then I think better of it. “Actually, Perry? Can you come here for a minute ?”
He reenters in the room, pulling the plastic sheeting from my dry-cleaned suit. This beautiful Asian girl spilled a daiquiri all down the front of me yesterday. I’m sure it was an accident .
“I’m sure the speech is going to be another winner, sir,” he begins .
“Perry, why are there people in the executive suite ?”
He shakes his head emphatically. “There’s no one else on this floor,” he says. “You booked the whole floor .”
“No, there are definitely two women staying in the executive suite .”
“I’ll have them removed immediately!” he huffs, clearly offended .
“No… don’t do that,” I shrug. I almost still feel her weight in the palms of my hands, her smooth skin, the sweet gust of air that burst from her lips and landed at the pit of my throat. “Just give me some information. Names, backgrounds, that sort of thing .”
“Right away, sir !”
Perry hurries off, and I force myself to look at the slides again. Arrowing back and forth, I try to remember the last time I gave this speech. Philadelphia, I’m fairly certain. Tech conference. Now, a lot of those bastards really will get lucky. Maybe I inspired a few of them .
I know I inspired that cosplay girl. I could see her all the way in the back of the room, so ready and willing it was like a lighthouse. Like a neon sign: fuck me. She was pretty good. Eager and big-titted, bouncy hair, and a giggling warcry when she came .
But then I think about her again: the girl from the hallway. She went completely the opposite way, into silence. Still she had that deer-in-headlights look that women sometimes get. Maybe she recognized me. The interview in Rolling Stone really did a lot for my reputation. People believe that rock star stuff if you say it long enough .
“Does the name Ava Harrison ring a bell? Bea Tyde?” Perry asks, reentering the room .
I stare at him, unbelieving. “What did you say ?”
He approaches with his hands out apologetically. “It seems there was a double-booking error. Their rooms were given away, so some newbie at the front desk decided to book the executive suite on this floor. Can you believe that? The nerve of her !”
I hold up a hand, stop . “I don’t care about that. Let them have the suite. But did you say… Ava Harrison ?”
Perry nods. “Yes… wait, isn’t she from your old neighborhood? Did you know her ?”
I swallow, hard. I knew her. My best friend… former best friend’s younger sister. I remember her in the swimming pool, stroking back and forth in a bikini that was still a little bit too big for her. She liked to pretend she didn’t know I was watching. But I was. I remember making a mental note that taking her sweet, innocent ass was at the top of my to-do list .
And then after all the drama between our families, I guess the to-do list got scrapped .
“I’m sure I can find them another room. I’ll have a talk with the manager .”
“No, don’t do that,” I say, snapping my laptop closed and standing up. “It will be nice to be reacquainted, I think. We have a lot of catching up to do .”
Perry scowls, but I know he’ll do as I ask. He is always the first one to defend me, to make certain my orders are carried out to the letter .
I am supposed to have this floor to myself, but what’s the harm in sharing it? Maybe Ava could be a little bit of fun. Little taste of home, as they say. She certainly isn’t a little girl anymore. Now lush and curvaceous, she’s exactly the kind of woman that I want. Someone strong. Someone who can take anything I throw at her .
Could she do it? Certainly worth finding out .
Chapter 24
AVA
I n the morning, it takes me a really long time to wake up. I come out of the dream little by little, not sure of the separation between the dream and reality, emerging as though I’m coming up from the bottom of a deep pool of water. I feel like I’m waking up, but the dream stays with me, embracing me, caressing me, making me warm everywhere .
I’m not alone. Ethan is with me, staring so intensely that I tingle all over. Shivers race across my skin, back and forth like waves lapping at a sandy beach. He wants me. I can tell. And I know that he can see how much I want him too. It’s almost too much .
I sigh, moaning, and the sound pulls me back to reality. My eyes open and I am fully awake, but still confused. I’m alone? But it felt so real… and my body is still pulsing, throbbing .
But a bang on my bedroom door wakes me up even further .
“Are you ready!?” Bea’s voice comes through the white lacquer door .
“What? Ready?” I call back. My hands slide along the crisp linen comforter in my surprisingly beautiful room. “How can I be ready? I just woke up .”
The door opens and Bea stalks in, her eyes flashing .
“What the heck are you doing? We’re going to be late, Ava !”
She marches over to the window and flings open the curtains. My hands automatically rise to shield my eyes .
“It’s summer vacation, Bea,” I complain. “Maybe give it a rest ?”
“There are no more summer vacations, Ava! We graduated, remember? And the keynote speaker starts in ten minutes! We’re going to be late !”
I pout and slide closer to the edge of the bed. “I was having the best dream,” I mumble .
Bea slaps her thighs in frustration. She takes three steps in either direction like a caged animal .
“You know what, Ava, just meet me down there, okay? Get your act together !”
In a huff, she turns and rushes back out of the room. I can hear her grabbing another handful of resumes off the table as she flings open the door and leaves the suite .
But she’s right, I really need to get going. I force myself to get in and out of the shower and slap on some eyeliner and mascara while I brush my teeth. A simple wrap dress goes on fast and, after tying my hair back, I’m out the door in seven minutes flat, presentable enough for a darkened ballroom with the keynote speaker, I assume .
The ballroom is packed—standing room only. Even if I wanted to find Bea, I’d be afraid to draw attention to myself. The event organizer is already mumbling something into the microphone, introducing his guest. I slide along the back, looking for a place where I can at least lean against the wall, out of the way. I find a vacancy near the exit and cross my arms, stifling a yawn as I remember that I didn’t get any coffee .
The audience breaks into applause, and I do the same thing, clapping as I crane my head to see what’s going on. A man in a charcoal-gray suit strides to the middle of the stage, his hand outstretched to shake the other man’s hand. He turns toward the crowd and claps his hands in front of his chest, bowing slightly in a humble, strong gesture. When he looks back up, those piercing blue eyes seem to find me immediately, pinning me hard to the wall where I stand .
It’s him. It’s Ethan Mercer .
Instantly my mind is thrown into fast-forward. I can barely make out the words that he is saying. I feel like he can see me, like he’s talking directly to me .
I remember the dream. It was him in my
dream. He was talking directly to me, just like this, with words that I could barely understand because of all the noise in my head, just like this .
My heart racing, I try to control my breathing and shift from foot to foot, noticing how my panties are damp, my belly trembling and clenching over and over again. I don’t know what’s happening to me. Something about the way he strides across the stage, gesturing, chuckling affably, projecting his voice to the farthest corners of the room… It’s like watching a lion at the zoo. Some magnificent beast. Muscle and grace, threat and promise .
It’s absolutely thrilling .
Then everyone is clapping, and I clap too, hoping the lights will go on so I can duck back out of the room and disappear to somewhere else in this hotel. There has got to be another panel or speech or class on resume writing or something that I can be at. I need to get away, quickly. I feel like anyone who looks directly at me is going to know all the lusty, rushing thoughts in my head .
But as I turn for the exit door, I feel a hand circling my elbow and a gentle tug. I turn around, immediately immobilized under his icy-blue stare .
“Come with me,” he commands, his voice low and confident, somehow aimed directly at me though there are so many other sounds in the room .
Helplessly I am swept along with him through the exit door, then a short work passageway, before we go through another set of doors into a private dining room. The smell of coffee washes over me like a tidal wave, and my stomach growls loudly in response .
He quirks an eyebrow at me. Of course he heard it. Dammit !
“Are you hungry?” he smirks .
“Famished,” I admit .
“Perfect timing then. Looks like brunch is ready for us .”
Swallowing hard, I let him guide me toward a table in the center of the room, the only table here. He holds out a chair for me and I slide into it, hoping that my stomach won’t make any more embarrassing noises .
Immediately two of the waitstaff are fussing over the table, pouring champagne and coffee simultaneously, delivering plates of fresh fruit and crepes, piles of bacon and sausage .
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