In the midst of his standing afternoon date to tame his five o’clock shadow, Richard’s cell announced his latest frequent caller. He popped on his glasses and answered, keeping his hands free for the close shave. “Hello, Margot.”
“Why, Richard, you sound pleased as punch.”
“I think I’ve earned it. I’m Jaclyn’s date tonight for the big event. Probably meeting Everett too.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”
He stopped in mid-stroke and set the razor down as a video request came through. He accepted it, realizing she would be seeing his shirtless reflection. Awkward with Margot, but not a deal breaker. “What do you mean? And why would she call you, considering the time difference?”
Margot sat there in all her sophisticated upper-class glory. Well, except for the prominent evidence of a night of debauchery. In a cream-colored satin robe, she smoothed her blond locks away from her face, remarkably unconcerned about the assortment of sex toys photobombing the shot.
Though it was midnight, her makeup was impeccable. And by the nude pup of a man sleeping behind her in bed, her stamina was undisputed. “I’m not bound by the hands of a watch. We call each other around the clock. It’s too hard keeping up with time zones. But back to business. What I mean is she just called me to ask if I had any connections at your hotel. She’s trying to secure the penthouse but it seems someone’s in it.”
He wiped any remaining streaks of shaving cream from his face and tossed down the towel. Stalking across the marble tiles through the lavish suite, he walked past the baby grand piano to overlook the city. “Let me guess, she’s trying to shake loose who’s in it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you would do?”
Shit. “She’s heading here, isn’t she?”
“Yes . . .” Margot drawled out the word, patronizing him as he’d finally connected the dots. “She’s on her way over there to speak with the general manager. I suggest you wrap up getting baby smooth and find the GM before she arrives.”
“I’m on it.”
“And I’ll be keeping an eye on you at tonight’s event.”
Translation: Margot wanted the video feed from his glasses to be connected throughout the evening.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” he said, thinking about the time difference. Eight p.m. in Dallas would be two a.m. in London.
“You didn’t. I offered. And you’ll graciously accept.”
Her directive was received loud and clear. This wasn’t his normal stomping ground or crowd, and he could use her help.
“I’ll connect you in a few. Thanks, Margot.”
* * *
As clean shaven as he was getting, he slipped on his jeans and a pullover, practically tripping over himself into the elevator. He pressed the lobby button several times in succession until the doors closed. When they opened, he jumped out, seeing Jaclyn already at the front desk. He hurried over to her.
“Jaclyn. Hi.” He graced her cheeks with air kisses, both to keep the gossip to a minimum, and to prevent him from sporting her cherry-red lipstick again.
“Hi.” Her face brightened with delight and wonder. “How did you know I was here?”
“Me?” He looked around nervously. “I just came downstairs to get some, um, shaving cream. I just ran out.” Technically true.
“Really?” She scrutinized his face. “You look practically clean shaven now.” Her grin widened. “Seriously, I can’t even find one baby-fine strand.” She slipped a finger to the dimple of his chin, then let him off the hook. “Must be the blond.”
“Yes,” he said, painting on a smile. “Must be. You’re here early.”
“I was hoping to speak with—”
“Ms. Long.” The manager approached with a big smile. “So good to finally meet you after speaking with you so many times, and on the evening of such a wonderful occasion. How may I be of service to you and Mr.—”
“Austin.” Richard cut him off, not wanting Jaclyn to realize the GM probably knew his name.
“Ah, Mr. . . . Austin. What can I do for you . . . both?”
Richard stepped squarely behind Jaclyn. The vantage point showed support, but he’d shifted to that position for a different purpose.
Jaclyn nodded at the general manager with a smile. “Yes, I understand the penthouse is occupied. I’m prepared to rent it for the month, but I’d like to have it tonight, if possible. Is there any way to see if the occupant might be amenable to being put up at any number of other penthouses in the area? I have three on standby if they meet the needs of your occupant. My treat.”
The manager barely heard a word she said, distracted by Richard’s ongoing facial expressions and wild gestures. At one point, his pleading eyes made way to begging hands, the universal signs for please don’t fuck this up for me.
“Um, I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Long, but the penthouse suite is indeed occupied. Normally, I would do anything for such an important client as yourself, but the individual demands absolute privacy, and has actually taken it for the month. Rather insistently.” He darted a look at Richard. “Possibly two? Or three?” The manager cocked his head to see if Richard would be amenable to the newly introduced bargaining chip.
I can’t believe this guy is shaking me down like this. I seriously need him working for me.
Richard nodded and popped up three fingers as Jaclyn looked back. He immediately used them to scratch at his face, then smoothed them along his jaw as if examining areas to sweep with a razor.
“I see.” Her disappointed reply was soothed as Richard pressed his palms to her shoulders. She turned to him. “Richard, I was hoping to stay here and surprise you with all of this, but it looks like my trip was in vain. Can I possibly impose on you? I just need a place to hang out to make a few phone calls. I promise, I’ll stay out of your way.”
He hadn’t realized until then the small duffel at her feet. She’d actually anticipated staying. He glanced at the manager, who was engrossed and eager to see where this shit show would go. Richard had just begun the process of politely turning her down when the manager intervened.
“Sir, I understand you’ve been having trouble with your key. For all their technology, they’re not above the occasional quirk. Come this way, and I’ll make you another.”
“I’ll just be a moment,” Richard told Jaclyn before following the manager to his office.
Richard shut the door, watching the manager sit at his desk and make a call. About to thank the man, Richard’s silence was commanded by the GM’s palm portraying a “talk to the hand.” The speaker phone shifted from ringing to a woman’s upper-crust voice as she answered.
“He’s in my office,” the general manager said.
“How much did you take him for?” the sultry voice asked.
Richard hooked his hands on his hips. “Margot? You’re the mastermind that locked me into a timeshare arrangement with the hotel?”
“Oh, it gets worse,” she told him.
The manager said, “Margot gave me a rundown of the situation, and frankly, you were lucky I was in the vicinity when she called. It goes without saying that any friend of Margot’s is a friend of mine. You’ll not only be keeping your penthouse, but you’ll also need an additional suite to keep up appearances for Ms. Long.”
“And let me guess,” Richard said dryly. “You’ve got just the solution.”
“As a matter of fact, I do. The penthouse is not just one suite. It opens up to the two adjacent smaller suites for when we have V-V-VIPs who enjoy spreading out. I can give you one of the adjacent suites and program your key for both. That way, you’ll have the penthouse and the East Suite.”
“But, Richard,” Margot said. “If you bring her to an empty suite, her spidey sense is going to kick into high gear. No personal toiletries. No clothes. Nothing screams suspicious like a vanilla shell.”
Richard grasped for a straw. “How about I ask her to give me a quick tour of the venue, and—”
The general manager smiled as he cut in. “I’ll have one of the butlers go up and move all your stuff to the next suite and add a few homey touches.” He handed Richard a sheet of paper. “You can count on us. Just sign here.”
Richard scanned the document. It effectively was a notice that he would hold the hotel harmless if any of his activities resulted in any legal action. Richard readily signed.
He pulled five hundred dollars from his wallet. “Here. Give that to the butler. And I’ll take care of you later.”
“No need,” the manager said. “Margot and I go way back. This one’s on me.”
“So I don’t need to take the penthouse for three months?”
Margot chuckled. “No, of course not, Richard. You need to take the penthouse and the adjacent suite for three months. The favor of keeping your secret is certainly worth the trifling cost. And if I’m in town, I get the penthouse. Deal?”
Richard shook his head with an amused grin. “Deal. And thank you both,” he said, then rushed out.
* * *
Richard kept Jaclyn occupied for a short time by asking for a behind-the-scenes tour of the layout and a rundown of what would happen that evening. Twenty minutes later, a cryptic text alerted him that the move had been accomplished, and he suggested to Jaclyn that they head upstairs.
Once the elevator opened, he led her to the left, past the penthouse to what he assumed was the East Suite. He swiped his card across the entry panel. When the light beamed red, he pulled in a calming breath, mentally cursing everyone involved in this little caper.
Jaclyn asked, “Still having issues with your key?”
Though there was a suite on either side of the penthouse, he reconsidered his location and grew confident that this suite was to the east . . . if, in fact, the hotel used conventional compass settings and pole proximities to guide direction.
He swiped again, slower than before. The small dot glowed green, and the lock clicked free. He opened the door, letting her in with a relieved smile.
“You look surprised,” she said pointedly.
“Surprised I’m letting you in without tidying up first.”
Her slow stroll highlighted how deeply engrossed she was in studying every aspect of his lair. She stopped at the coffee table. “If this is your version of messy, I might need you to move in.”
“If that’s your sales pitch,” he said, tossing his key card on the entry table, “we need to work on your delivery. Okay, ground rules. First, I’m not your maid, though I’m more than happy to draw you a bath.”
He dropped down, tugging at her heel and throwing her slightly off-balance. She grabbed his hunched-over shoulders for support as he slipped off her shoes. Popping back up, he held up her stilettos, letting the strappy backs hang off his finger.
“I prefer my guests be comfortable at all times. Toe stretching is encouraged. And finally, no feet on the furniture under any circumstances, except, of course, to jump on the bed.”
“You’ve jumped on your bed?”
“Eh, the night is still young.”
She peeked through the bedroom door and glanced around at the spacious layout. “This is a really nice suite.”
He nodded in agreement, admiring it for the first time himself. “I rarely bother to look up from my work, but it is, isn’t it? My company put me up.”
She turned away, reviewing several magazines neatly stacked on a table. She fanned them out. “So, Popular Science and the Linux Journal, I get. MotorTrend and the Robb Report just raised your stock value. But—” She grabbed the largest of them, holding it high. “What’s with the Cosmo?”
Nice touch, Margot.
“Um, yeah. Can you blame a guy for trying to figure out what women are thinking?”
The disbelief of her arched brow pushed him to further defend his position.
“And their quizzes are incredibly insightful.” He pulled her close. “Now, what do you need. Privacy? You’re welcome to any room you like.”
His lips joined hers. By the sighs shared between them, he’d waited far too long to do that.
His breath stuttered as he said, “I’ll stay out of your way.”
Her forehead creased in disappointment. “Well, the bath was sounding good, but if you’re determined to stay out of my way, I guess I’ll get to work. Mind if I use your bedroom?”
Richard laughed. “Fine.” He led her to the bedroom, grabbed his tux from the closet, and headed to the living room. “But if your snooping turns up anything questionable, trust me, there’s a plausible explanation.”
* * *
As the sun started its long descent below the horizon of the Dallas cityscape, brilliant splashes of golden orange gave the suite a warm glow.
Richard looked up from his research to check the clock. It was seven thirty. Half an hour from the festivities starting. He stretched and stepped to the bedroom, tuxedo clad and ready for the evening.
With a light knock, he opened the door. “Jaclyn?”
He walked in to find the woman already dressed for the evening and more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. Stretched out on top of the down comforter, she’d fallen asleep, her phone lightly gripped in one hand and a pen in the other. Her only cover was the open Cosmo magazine lying across her lap.
He peeled it off her, amused at her propensity to multitask. Obviously engrossed in last-minute calls, she’d been taking notes while filling out the latest quiz on compatibility. But true to form, she’d scribbled out some words and added others, changed points here and there, erring on the unforgiving side of putting herself in a worse light than she deserved.
Always so hard on yourself.
Richard paused before waking her, seduced by the sight of her sleek black evening gown that accentuated every curve. He let his gaze linger.
Her legs peeked out through a long but tasteful slit of her dress, affording her room to walk in an otherwise body-hugging sheath. A closer look at her ankle revealed a small tattoo, one heart looped through another. Unable to help himself, he grazed a finger over it.
She grumbled and sleep-wrapped her body in a corner of the comforter, cocooning herself snugly as she turned away.
Entertained, he sat next to her. “Suit yourself, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered, “keep your guests waiting. I’ll just pass the time seeing how compatible we are. Where’s that quiz you were working on?”
Her eyes popped open, and her unamused glare battled an embarrassed grin. Disoriented, she muttered, “What time is it?”
“A little past seven thirty,” he said as he pecked a kiss to her forehead.
She jumped off the bed, hurrying to a mirror. “It’s late.”
“Did anyone call or text you?” He pointed to the phone still in her grasp, and she checked it and shook her head. “Then I’m guessing it’s under control, and you’ve got a minute or two to freshen up. Take your time. I’ll be out here.”
He shut the door behind him as he returned to the living room and was distracted by a buzzing in his pants pocket demanding his attention. It was Dennis.
Richard answered without the speaker on and held the cell to his ear. “Another fire? So soon?”
“Only the best for the belle of the ball, boss. Everett Long is waiting to speak with you.”
“Hang on.“ Richard headed out of the suite and into the hall. “Put him through.” When the line clicked over, he said, “Mr. Long. How may I be of service?”
“I wanted to talk with you. Face to face. I’m happy to head to Chicago.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’m on the road and can meet you in Dallas later this week. I’ll have Dennis work with you on the date and time, unless it’s urgent.”
“Not urgent, but I’d rather not go through your assistant. This is my personal cell. Text me when and where. I’d like to keep this meeting between us.”
Jaclyn pulled open the door and slipped out of the suite, respectfully quiet when she saw him on the phone.
Richard pressed the button to summon the elevator and quickly closed the conversation. “Absolutely. I’ll send the details. Looking forward to it.”
As the elevator doors opened, he pocketed his phone and smiled down at Jaclyn. “Your chariot awaits.”