“I think I’ve proven myself to be an excellent pilot, Ms. Aragon.” His voice comes out forcefully—even angry.
“What happened to not being able to leave Baker’s Creek?” I ask, hoping that the question will calm him down. Henry's ego is fragile when it comes to his piloting skills, even when he denies it. “You do remember why you changed your residence, right?”
Among all the crazy stipulations he and his brothers need to comply with to receive their inheritance, they have to live in Baker’s Creek for eighteen months, in the Aldridge Mansion. They can’t leave the town—not even to Portland. So why is he saying, I’ll see you when you land?
“We were able to tweak a few of the stipulations on the will,” he states. “Pierce has been working hard to make this more efficient for all of us.”
“Well, great…” for you.
What’s great is the part where he can leave the town. Not the fact that he’ll be picking me up. He’s pretty good at multitasking, and I’m sure he’ll want me to work during the thirty-minute flight to the house.
“It’s a start,” he grumbles. “If you need me, please call. I’ll see you when you arrive.”
He hangs up, and I am tempted to text Blaire or Leyla, my best friends who are also stuck in Baker’s Creek, to find out more about the amendments. But I stop myself. I doubt either one will appreciate me calling them at almost three o’clock in the morning. Maybe I’ll text them in a couple of hours. One of them has to be available for a chat. This might be the last time I have to go to Baker’s Creek.
The last ten years of my life have been dreadful, but things are turning around for me. Free time and seventeen months in charge of Merkel Hotels & Spas. Of course, Henry is going to call me every three fucking minutes, but who cares about him? After almost three years of working for him, I can tune him out.
Just imagine, in less than two years I can apply for a new job with my new resumé where I will type in bold letters, maybe even in caps: INTERIM CEO of Merkel Hotels.
But before I can celebrate my new and improved life, I have to tie up all the loose ends this weekend. Instead of going to my parents’ house, I text my brother, Marco, and ask him to cover for me. Of course, he is willing to do it in exchange for using my place. I should say no because he’s either bringing the flavor of the month or having a party.
The alternative is… Well, there’s no alternative. He’s my only chance.
Everyone else is too busy to check on my parents during the mornings—which is why they put me in charge of that shift. Unlike my siblings and my cousins, I don’t have a partner, children, or a business to take care of, and therefore I am the one assigned to the early time slot.
It serves me just fine. I have an excuse to ignore Henry for a couple of hours, and I can spend time with Mom and Dad while it’s just the three of us. It can get pretty noisy when everyone else is visiting them.
By nine in the morning, I’m in the car service on the way to the hangar when my phone rings. It’s Blaire.
“Hey, chica!” she greets me. “How are you?”
“You sound too happy,” I state.
“Henry just told me you’re on your way home,” she says excitedly. “Of course, I’m happy. I get to spend more time with you. Plus, my man just brought me breakfast in bed.”
“Croissants and a tea latte?” I guess.
“No,” she answers. “The baby hates croissants…and me. I’m drinking ginger tea and toast.”
“The baby doesn’t hate you, babe,” I hear Hayes, her dreamy fiancé, reassure her. “Hurry up so we can go for a walk around town.”
“No run today?”
“Until I stop puking half of what I eat, I am not allowed to run. Doctor’s orders,” she informs me, and her voice carries some annoyance.
I’m pretty sure the doctor she’s talking about is Hayes. I’m glad he is the one limiting her physical activity.
“If you were your doctor, you’d be doing the same,” I state. Last weekend she almost fainted during our morning run, scaring the crap out of me.
She sighs. “That’s not why I am calling.”
“Do you need me to bring you something from New York or Portland?”
“Yes, can you please drop by the P.O. Box we have in Portland? There’s a package that I need urgently,” she mumbles the last words. “I tried to get your boss to do it for me, but he said he can’t make frivolous trips.”
I chuckle, “Sure. I can pretend that I sent something this week for myself. I’ll tell him it’s feminine products to make him feel uncomfortable. Anything else?”
“No, I—”
“Hey, are you on the phone with Sophia?” Henry interrupts her. “Give me that phone, I need to speak to her.”
“Nope, I’m talking to my mother. You can always speak to Mom and get some tips about morning sickness and sex during pregnancy,” she lies, and I chuckle when he grumbles.
There’s a clicking sound on the other line and when I check, it’s Henry calling me.
“I need to go. He’s already on the other line,” I complain.
“Good luck,” she says before hanging up.
Once the line goes dead, I remember about the amendments to the will. How did I forget to ask about them? Whatever they changed will affect me. What if Henry can come back to New York?
While I’m on the phone with him, I barely pay any attention to the conversation. He’s just confirming that I brought everything he requested earlier today. Like I can afford to make a mistake. He lives in a world where everything is black and white. One simple error can cost anyone their job—not that I allow it. I always find a way to keep those employees working for us. His rage is incomparable with any human I’ve ever met, but I don’t let him intimidate me.
Once I arrive at the airport, I say, “Mr. Aldridge, I’m about to board the plane. Do you need any further assistance?”
“No, just tell the captain he has his orders,” he informs me. “Have a safe trip, Ms. Aragon.”
Julian, the driver helps me with the boxes and my bag. After they set them inside the jet, I board it and give the pilot Henry’s message.
He rolls his eyes and walks to the cockpit. I take my seat, listen to the flight attendant give the usual instructions through the intercom, and once we’re thirty thousand feet above ground, she approaches me with a champagne flute and a tray.
“Bellini, strawberries, and a lightly toasted croissant,” she says, when she picks up the metal lid.
I stare at the plate and then look at her. “Thank you?”
It sounds better than how do you know that’s my favorite drink and that I love to eat strawberries while enjoying it, right?
“Mr. Aldridge requested them earlier today,” she explains without me prompting her.
I nod, intrigued and…impressed. Why would he bother ordering me…what is this, lunch?
A part of me wants to send him a message to thank him for being so thoughtful. The other part wants to ask what he wants from me. He’s never this nice. Ever.
I don’t bother doing either one because when I turn on my computer there’s an email from him with spreadsheets from Aldry’s Sweets. That’s the factory the Aldridge family founded in the early 1900’s. And my special project. Henry is an expert at giving me the problem children to fix.
William Aldridge let the place go, just like he did with The Lodge. That’s the hotel his family built last century to accommodate tourists and skiers. Saving them is proving to be more challenging than I expected at the beginning. Henry’s focusing on The Lodge, since he’s the hotel whisperer. It sounds like a joke, but he knows hotels like nobody else in the world. His life has always revolved around hotels and hospitality. He worked for his grandfather since the age of sixteen, starting from the bottom.
On the other hand, I’m stuck with the factory. He never said anything directly. The one time he hinted I’d be taking over was when he said, “Sophia, we need to go to the conference room. I need a human approach, because if it�
�s me, I’d sell the place and wash my hands of it.”
Needless to say, I had to explain to him all the reasons why firing half of the staff was not only wrong but counterproductive. Henry is a brilliant man, but sometimes he concentrates too much on the bottom line. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do the same with The Lodge. He fired a few people and demoted many more.
During my flight to Portland, I go through the reports he sent earlier. We’re purchasing new equipment, rebranding, and focusing on production for the next few months. Maybe I should stay until Monday so I can speak with the current director of operations. He doesn’t like to work outside office hours. With all due respect, the man is old school and should’ve retired twenty years ago. We need to hire new management. I never met William Aldridge, but sometimes I feel like he let everything go just to make this situation that much more difficult for his sons.
Once I land, I see the one and only Henry Aldridge. All six foot and some inches of him leaning against the hood of his Bugatti La Voiture Noire. He wears a dark blue pin striped suit. His dark brown hair is longer than usual; it almost touches his expensive sunglasses. He gives me a slight smile, which is uncharacteristic of him.
“Sophia,” he greets me with that thick, raspy voice that makes any woman who listens to him fall at his feet.
Not me.
“Henry,” I answer, nodding slightly toward his luxurious car. “I thought we were flying.”
“I chose to drive so I could pick up Blaire’s package before you arrived. Did you have a good trip?”
“As usual,” I confirm.
“What’s on your mind?”
“What?”
“Something is bothering you,” he states.
You?
There’s something so annoying about him. He’s so hot, but then, he’s…well, him. I can’t deny I’m physically attracted to him but also repelled by his personality. I blink away deliberately trying to avoid staring at him.
“I could’ve packed your things and have them shipped. You don’t need me,” I explain.
He smirks. “Funny, that’s for me to decide, Ms. Aragon. What bothers you? Traveling or sacrificing your weekend?”
Both. I glance at him and roll my eyes. “I refuse to work all weekend,” I warn him.
He opens the passenger door and closes it once I’m inside the car.
“Don’t worry. I promised your friend that we’d be done by tomorrow afternoon, since we’re celebrating Hayes’ birthday,” he states once he takes a seat and turns on the engine.
“Woohoo,” I say sarcastically. “I’m only working twenty-four hours of overtime.”
“I don’t care for your sarcasm.”
“I don’t care for many things, and yet, here we are,” I answer with the phrase he hates the most.
To push his next button, I pull out my noise canceling headphones and make an entire show of setting my music and tuning him out.
Two
Henry
It’s said that we all start off in life with a dream. Like making a million dollars, traveling around the world, or having a career that fulfills us.
I don’t have any dreams. At least, I don’t think I do.
My life was decided way before I was born. I’d be the heir of two wealthy and powerful families. Here’s the kick: Mom chose the wrong man. William Aldridge, my sperm donor, was wealthy but not single. He was a philanderer, not a philanthropist. He cared about women—all of them.
I was born with a silver spoon, bred to become one of the most powerful men in the world, and taught that there’s nothing more important in life than to close a deal. Not even family. It comes as no surprise that my life is just a sequence of meetings, business deals, and mergers. My only goal is to ensure that Merkel Hotels & Spas are the best in the world. The only thing worth celebrating is when I buy a new lot, an old hotel, or a business that can benefit me in the long run.
I was raised to win.
For some, owning their own business is just a dream that they never accomplish. For me…well, lately it has become a process as similar as breathing. I can do my job with my eyes closed. Unlike my brothers, what I do is meaningless. It doesn’t enrich my life. It’s as simple as tying the shoelaces of my thousand-dollar oxford shoes.
You know what thrills me?
Looking at the beauty next to me chasing a deal, fixing an old hotel, or just being infuriated with me.
Sophia Aragon makes everything more…vivid. She brings life to everything she touches. Which is refreshing and maddening at the same time. How can someone so beautiful, smart, and sassy, invoke so many emotions in a matter of seconds?
She’s a puzzle, and maybe that’s why I haven’t fired her yet. Every single day we spend together, she surprises me. After so many years working for me, I can’t afford to lose her. She knows my business better than I do. The entire company depends on her.
By now, I’m just the guy who closes deals and signs the memos.
Her new venture is Aldry’s Sweets. Having her in charge of the factory is the smart thing to do; I know it. It scares me that she’ll be concentrating most of her time on that project. She’s now the brain of my company—and the heart. But I am sure everything will work out the way I planned.
I hoped we could discuss what’s to come during the drive, but it’s obvious that she’s not having it. Maybe later today or on Sunday we can discuss what I plan on implementing within the next couple of weeks. I expect some backlash on her part. She never takes change without a protest or a bonus. She’s smart and knows her worth.
When we arrive at the house, she looks at me and then at the mountain of dirt close to the lake. The construction company broke ground this Monday.
“Hayes is building a house,” I answer her silent question.
“Aren’t you supposed to live in the same house for eighteen months?”
I nod twice and sigh. She knows the stupid stipulations of my father’s testament better than I do.
“Pierce is trying to find a loophole to help them move once Rodin Construction finishes the house. If he can’t amend that part, then they’ll stay in the main house until the ordeal is over.”
“The kick-ass lawyer quit his practice so he can find loopholes in the will?” she asks with an insolent tone. I don’t get upset. Actually, it turns me on.
What is it about Sophia Aragon that makes me angry and want her all at the same time?
My brain is aware of the contradiction. My body is beginning to give no fucks about logic and just wants her. I’ve kept my distance, but since my father’s death it’s been hard, so hard…just like my fucking dick is every time she’s near me.
Today isn’t any different. She had the audacity to wear a skirt that falls just below her knee showing off her amazing toned legs, and, of course, she has on a pair of fuck me heels. Thank fuck she’s wearing a jacket because I’d lose my shit if she’s wearing something that accentuates her gorgeous tits.
“Not to step on anyone’s toes, but his time could be used in something more…productive,” she says with a tone that makes me want to fuck her sassy mouth.
I think that’s the only way she’ll stop being so insolent.
“We’re firing most of my father’s lawyers, and he’s taking charge of all the legal affairs. In his spare time, he’s trying to find ways to make these months more…bearable.”
She nods and shrugs. “Are you going to build your own house too?”
She points toward the east of the property. “There’s a spot there. You can claim it before one of your brothers do.”
“Probably not,” I answer.
“Of course. Once this is over, you’re leaving this house and the town,” she concludes and gets out of the car.
She’s not wrong, yet, she’s not right.
After spending almost two months with my brother Hayes and his fiancée, it’s hard not to think that my life needs a few changes. Living close to them might not be such a bad idea.
Would I
build a house next to them?
Probably not. I need my space. There’s a lot in the south part of town that we own, and if I play my cards right, I might call that mine. My permanent residence and my future are up in the air. Hayes promised me that after the end of this shit show I’d get what I always wanted. Since I don’t have a dream, he said we’d discover it together. As a family.
All my life I knew what to expect from everyone. Not from these guys. I’m not scared of my future, but for the first time in my life I’ve taken a leap of faith and followed the unknown. I’m investing not only my fortune, but myself into this venture, knowing that I have a lot to lose.
As I enter the house, Pierce looks at me with an annoyed face.
“What happened?” I ask out of politeness, not because I care.
Hayes is the one who gives a shit about everyone’s business. However, he’s setting up his medical practice and working on the rehabilitation of our younger brother, Mills, who blew his knee out and might not be able to play hockey again. On top of that, he’s worried sick about his fiancée who is pregnant and barely retains any food. So now, I’m the one taking his place as the concerned brother. Not that I do a good job at it.
“The more I go through our father’s will the more I hate him. Did I tune the lawyer out when he said that if any of his single sons enter into a serious relationship—like marriage or engagement—the significant other has to stay in this house too?”
I nod. “Yes. I heard that pretty clear. I’m sure you were too busy trying to figure out how to get rid of your…wife.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yet, she’s still here.”
“Get yourself a mistress. Maybe she’ll give you the divorce,” I joke.
Really, I’m kidding.
Whatever is happening between him and Leyla is none of my business. They have to end their marriage or find a solution to their crazy relationship. I wouldn’t support my brother if he cheats on her, even when things are so screwed up between them. One thing I hate is cheaters—well that, and relationships.
Of course, he takes it in a totally different way because he has a horrified face.
A Moment Like You Page 2
