CHAPTER 9

 

 

Ardy got out of the shower and eyed the enclosure with a critical eye. The plastic insert, which hid old loose tiles like ancient ones paving the floor, would obviously have to go. Instead of replacing everything with more subway white tile like on the cheap lower floors, though, his mind kept returning to the stark, intriguing effect of the emergency staircase.

The way the lights had been positioned had cast shadows on the walls, shadows of that nifty Art Deco railing.

It wasn’t desolate as much as visually structural. Interesting, somewhat noir, and... not empty.

And certainly not expensive. It was just shadows, after all.

Could he replicate the same vibe with the right lighting, the right structures? Something easy to clean and nigh indestructible, but designed to evoke the glory days of the Great Gatsby era. Done within his budget, his big new idea might even echo that single lighting fixture he had been asked to use as his design language template. Nobody needed to know about the railing until his design was submitted and, hopefully, approved.

He got dressed in a pair of white linen slacks and a black linen shirt highlighted by a pale green handkerchief in his pocket. No mauve, soft-patterned shirts today, and certainly not a hint of petal pink after yesterday’s disaster. He’d hunker down and get his work done and hope he didn’t get fired over his unfortunate lack of judgment.

When Ardy slipped into his leather loafers and let himself out the door, he angled toward the emergency exit staircase first. The railing’s design ran the length of the staircase and the spacing of the emergency lights was even throughout. He didn’t have to go all the way up to the time capsule to get the effect right.

Using his phone, and thankful for its excellent camera, he documented the effect that had caught his eye with outmost care. The railing itself and the medallion in the middle, one that portrayed a stylized spray of calla lilies. The shadows the railing cast on all the walls, the vanishing point of the empty – and dangerous – stairwell as he took images of its perspective looking both up and down.

Up toward Seth. His heart ached at the thought of what could’ve been.

He stomped on in hard and fast.

Down toward the ground level, ten floors from his official eighth if he counted the public areas and the offices.

Then he walked down to the ground level, enjoying the soft slap of his other, more casual shoes and the effect of a staircase which he would somehow manage to replicate as he renovated the regular-priced rooms and suites.

 

 

ONCE SETH had showered and dressed, he forced himself to deal with his ill-conceived idea of a fancy brunch. If cooking in an improvised space was bad, cleaning up was even worse. Now he’d have to either eat the food, or dispose of it.

The coffee turned acrid. He drank it anyway.

He picked up a strawberry slice and, hesitantly, he ran its tip against his own lower lip.

He ate it. It tasted of embarrassment and regret. Why did he have to be such an ass to Ardent? He had had his chance to go through the suite weeks ago, and if he didn’t scrutinize the contents of the drawers, that was his own loss. He had never been interested in the artifact of daily life, and certainly not in old make-up and silky robes. The woodwork and its stabilization and reconstruction was his specialty, the job he was hired to coordinate. Nobody had ever said anything about a cache of old lingerie left behind.

He poured himself a cup of sour, room-temperature coffee and satisfied his caffeine needs in a few long gulps. Then, steeling himself, he made his way to the Ardent’s bedroom – or, the other bedroom – to investigate the articles.

The drawers had a few pieces of girly stuff in them, items he now had to imagine against Arden’s smooth, silky skin. He replaced the earrings and shut the jewelry drawer, had only given the other drawers a perfunctory peek, and placed the folded robe in a drawer with more silky things. He draped the still-damp shorts over the back of a chair, and he made the bed. Calling housekeeping would be unspeakably rude with the elevator out of service – and it would send the tongues wagging.

Rumors would start, rumors would spread. Rumors would get all the way to Carson, because the industry was tight-knit and incestuous. He didn’t mind her knowing the occasional bit regarding his personal life – but not this, not now. Not until the divorce papers were signed.

Back in the library, he settled in a reading chair instead of the sofa, whose shiny leather gleamed at him like a reminder of Ardent. Both of them sitting there and drinking that glass of Syrrah. A glass made so thin, he didn’t even think it possible for it to be decorated as well.

With their thighs almost touching.

With Ardent drawing him into a comfortable, more than casual embrace.

It reminded him of Ardent’s offer to... instruct him.

And of this morning.

Seth realized he couldn’t sit in the masculine, cozy library without thinking of what happened between them. More importantly, he couldn’t stop thinking of what didn’t happen between them. And that it was all his own damn fault.

He didn’t regret the loss of his chance at his first time with a man as much as he mourned losing his chance with Ardent. A man so fine, so beautiful. So very true to his name, a man whose kisses were as smooth and as intoxicating as a glass of Syrrah.

Ardent was smart and talented, he was brave and kind.

Seth got up, leaving his coffee cup on the travertine bar, and began to pace. Did he really hate himself so much that he had to sabotage all of his personal relationships? Isn’t that what his therapist had suggested?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit a number he had on speed-dial.

Carson picked up immediately. “Hi, Seth.” She didn’t sound excited, but her tone wasn’t forbidding either.

“Hey there. So, um. How are you? How’re the kids?”

A brief silence. “Doing fine,” she said finally. “Megan has her soccer match today.”

“I know. It’s on my calendar.” The games were held within an indoor arena, played on artificial turf, but shielding the fields with a shade cloth made a day-long schedule of matches and practices possible. “Is it an issue if I come?”

A longer silence, as though he’d been put on mute. When Carson came back on, she was all business. “No, she’s your daughter. So we obviously won’t exclude you. But you should know that I’ll be bringing a friend.” A pause, an inhale. “Seth. I’ve been hoping to keep this on the down-low for now, but you’re going to meet him today anyway. I...I met someone.”

Seth’s heart beat in his throat as he formulated his answer. “Actually,” he started out slowly, measuring his words, “don’t take this wrong, but I’m relieved. I never wanted you to be lonely, and I’m sorry about my part in that.”

“I know. Quit apologizing already,” she cut it.

“But he has to be worthy of you,” Seth cut back in. “He better treat you right.”

“Better than you did?”

Seth gave a laugh of relief. “He better be awesome and worth the fights you’re bound to have. Because fights happen in every relationship.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I have a therapist too.”

“Love you,” he said as his heart brimmed with affection. “I’ll see you this afternoon, then.”

“See you then,” she said.

As she hung up without saying their customary “I love you too” back, Seth realized the new guy was probably there this very minute.

Walking down the emergency staircase, Seth kept deciding what was more awkward, his situation with Ardent, or the fact that Carson was bringing a guy to Megan’s soccer match. Furthermore, he fought guilt something fierce. Guilt over feeling relieved that Carson’s guy was willing to accompany the family like that.

He hoped the new guy was worth his weight in gold – and his own masculine, territorial ego could go take a hike.

 

 

ARDY WAS on his way from a dinner and a magic show. Both the food and the entertainment had been good, and both would’ve been even better if Seth had come along.

Which was never going to happen.

Ardy sighed as he entered the revolving door of his hotel’s lobby. The idea of stopping by a club and hooking up had crossed his mind earlier. It didn’t last, though. Not with this morning’s failed attempt. He’d need more than a quick, anonymous lay to get over what could’ve been a real relationship with Seth.

Was getting stuck in an elevator and having hours and hours of conversations with a a really hot guy a basis for a relationship? Not by itself, no – but they had chemistry as well, and their interest had been mutual.

And besides, they were both damaged goods, both in their own way. Seth, a late bloomer, had family drama to contend with and Ardy still buckled under the weight of bad history in his professional field. The very same, guy-gone-wrong history that had him set aside his first name and go by Ardy for the last two years. A history that had him back out of his beloved and very hot sustainable architecture field and into renovating old hotels.

Because never again would he fall prey to a controlling jerk like Daveed, especially not when they shared work together.

What the hell had he been thinking? Didn’t the set-up with Seth promise to be much of the same, except in a different shade of gray?

Okay, so Seth was his equal, not his boss. But still, would he ever learn?

If he had to stay singe forever to keep his body and his heart safe, single he would be.

“Ardy! Did you have a good time?”

He was halfway across the expansive, marble floor lobby when he heard Lucinda’s voice. Jerking his head up, he aimed his steps toward her. “I did,” he said with a smile. “I saw a mentalist and had tapas and a margarita. It was awesome. But what are you doing here on a perfectly lovely Saturday night?”

Lucinda flashed him her best, fully professional, pink-painted smile. She was a bit shorter than he and curvy, although not fat. Her work suit consisted of the familiar navy trousers and a matching sleeveless shell top, and her pale pink nails matched a single string of pink quartz beads that sat under her clavicles so perfectly, they might’ve been made for her. “I’m where the buck stops, and with the elevators out of service, I’m keeping an eye on things.”

“Doing what? Showing the guests the staircase?”

“No, having someone from Housekeeping run them up and down in the service elevator. It’s not ideal. I can’t wait for that new motor to get installed. We found a used one, it’s getting delivered tomorrow.”

“That will make Seth happy, living all the way up top.”

To his shock, Lucinda winked. “Lots of things would make Seth happy, and an elevator ain’t the biggest one of them.”

As Ardy took the stairs to his floor on the theory that he didn’t want to waste an good exercise opportunity, he tried to parse Lucinda’s comment and her wink.

Did she know about Seth’s situation?

And if she did, was she playing Cupid?

He resolved to get her a bribe. If she was vested in Seth’s happiness, she could, just maybe, help him diffuse this clusterfuck of a situation into a congenial working relationship. Because at this point, with his heart aching, Ardy didn’t dare to hope for more.