by Vi Keeland
I shook my head and looked up at Otto. “I don’t understand.”
He shrugged. “Neither did I. So I called Weston to make sure there wasn’t a mistake. He confirmed that this was indeed his family’s bid.”
“But…that means he wanted to lose?”
Otto took the paper back and folded it up. Sticking it in his pocket, he said, “I think it’s more like he wanted to make sure someone else won.”
***
My heart raced as I stood in front of the door. The last few weeks had been hell. Every step I’d taken had felt like walking over a long bridge. Today was supposed to be the day I finally crossed to the other side. But instead, I stood right back at the place I’d started.
This morning, my plan had been to sign the legal paperwork for The Countess to make things official and then try to relax and figure out what was next for me. I’d told my grandfather I’d get back to him about the west coast job by tomorrow, so I had some big decisions to make. I’d assumed I’d be in a better mental place after today’s formalities. But I was more confused than ever now, and I needed to hear things straight from the horse’s mouth.
So I raised my hand and took a deep breath as I knocked on Weston’s hotel room door. It had been eight days since I saw him in that conference room. His office had been dark and shut, and he was nowhere to be found in the hotel. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he left. But I did know better, because I’d monitored the hotel’s reservation system to see if he’d checked out. As of last night, he hadn’t.
On a jagged exhale, I forced my knuckles to connect with his door. My heart pounded as I waited for it to open, and my head felt almost as if I had a cold—full of foggy thoughts I couldn’t clear. I had so many questions. After a minute or two and no response, I knocked again, this time louder. While I waited, the elevator down the hall dinged, and the doors slid open. A bellman pushed a full luggage cart out and walked in my direction. He tipped his hat.
“Afternoon, Ms. Sterling.”
“Call me, Sophia, please.”
“Alright.” He slid a key into a room two doors down and proceeded to take the bags inside. When he was done, he pointed at the door I stood in front of.
“Are you looking for Mr. Lockwood?”
“I am. Yes.”
He shook his head. “I think he might’ve checked out a little while ago. Saw him with his luggage at the front desk when I came in, about nine o’clock.”
It felt like my heart stopped. “Oh. Okay.”
Since there was no point in standing here, I debated going downstairs to the front desk and confirming what the bellman had said. But I wasn’t sure I could hold back the tears once I did. So instead, I walked to the elevator and hit the button for my own floor. At least it was afternoon, so technically I wouldn’t be drinking in the morning.
It took all of my effort to put one foot in front of the other and exit the car, but when I did, my sluggish steps faltered.
I blinked a few times. “Weston?”
He sat leaning against the wall next to my hotel room door with his eyes cast down, his luggage parked next to him. Seeing me, he stood.
My heart sped up. “What—what are you doing?”
Weston looked even more awful than the last time I’d seen him. Dark circles framed his glassy red eyes, and his naturally tanned skin had turned sallow. He’d grown what was almost a full beard, but it wasn’t groomed and neat. It just looked like he hadn’t bothered to shave. Even so, he was still stunningly handsome.
“Could we talk?”
I’d just gone looking for him, yet my self-protective mechanism had me hesitating.
He noticed and frowned. “Please…”
“Sure.” I nodded. The camera in the corner of the hallway caught my eye. “Let’s go inside.”
As I opened the door, my nerves grew frazzled. I needed a drink in the worst way, and that made me think of something. I turned back and looked into Weston’s bloodshot eyes.
“Have you been…drinking?”
He shook his head. “No. Just not sleeping well.”
Nodding, I set my laptop and purse on the coffee table and took a seat on one end of the couch, adjacent to the chair, where I assumed Weston would sit. But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he sat down on the couch right next to me.
After a minute, he reached out and took my hand. “I miss you.” His voice broke. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
I tasted the familiar salt in my throat, but there were no more tears left.
Before I could figure out how to respond, he continued. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry I made you doubt what you mean to me.”
I shook my head and stared down at our hands. “I’m afraid, Weston. I’m afraid to believe you.”
“I know. But please give me a second chance to show you I can be the man you deserve. I fucked up. It won’t happen again. I promise you, Soph.”
I stayed quiet for a long time, sorting through the mess of tangled feelings and doubts. When I was finally able to focus a bit, I looked up at him.
“Why did you bid one dollar?”
I could tell he hadn’t expected me to know what he’d done.
“My family didn’t deserve to take care of this hotel—not with what my grandfather did to yours all those years ago, and not with what he thought I should be doing to you. Things needed to be made right, once and for all.”
“That’s very noble of you. But what if your grandfather finds out what you did?”
Weston looked into my eyes. “He already knows. I flew to see him the day after I turned in our bid and they informed you that you’d won. I told him in person.”
My eyes widened. “How did that go?”
The corner of Weston’s lip twitched. “Not too well.”
“Did he fire you?”
He shook his head. “He didn’t have to. I’d already quit.”
“God, Weston. Why would you do that? To prove your loyalty to me?”
“It was more than that. I needed to do it for myself, Soph. It’s been a long time coming. This was just the last straw. I realized my family had a lot to do with my struggle with alcoholism. I drank because I didn’t like myself. And that started with how they made me feel. I spent most of my life trying to prove to my parents and grandfather that I’m more than just spare parts. I finally realized the only person I need to prove that to is myself.”
I didn’t know what to say. “It sounds like you’ve done a lot of soul searching over the last week.”
“I have.”
“What will you do now? I mean, now that you’re not employed by the Lockwoods anymore?”
He shrugged and gave a faint smirk. “I’m not sure. Got any positions open over at Sterling Hospitality?”
I looked him in the eyes. He’d hurt me badly, that was for sure. But it hurt way more being apart from him. Would I get burned if I gave him a second chance? Quite possibly. Nothing in life was certain. Well, except for the fact that I’d be miserable if I didn’t take the risk and give things another chance with this man. Weston had jumped off a cliff. Maybe if I did, too, together we could learn to fly.
“Actually…” I took a deep breath and stood at the imaginary edge. “There is a position at this hotel I think you’d be perfect for.”
Weston lifted a brow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Well, it’s a position underneath me.”
His eyes flickered with hope. “Underneath you? I could deal with that.”
“And it has long hours.”
His lip curled at one corner, just the slightest bit. “That’s not a problem. I have plenty of stamina.”
I raised a finger and tapped it to my bottom lip, as if contemplating. “Actually, I’m not sure you’re right for the position. There are a few other candidates I need to consider first. Can I get back to you?”
“A few other candidates…for underneath you?”
I lost the battle to contain my smirk. “
That’s right.”
The spark in Weston’s eyes lit to a fire. Taking me completely by surprise, he leaned forward, pressed his shoulder into my chest, and lifted me up off the couch fireman style. In one stealth move I was in the air, flipped to my back, and suddenly landed on the couch with a thud.
Weston followed, hovering over me. “I think you’re right,” he said. “A position under you might not be the right spot for me. You got anything available on top? I like control too much and think I’d be a much better fit in that department.”
I laughed. “Nope. Sorry. All filled up.”
Weston growled. “I’ll fill you up.”
God, I missed him. I cupped his cheek. “You do seem like you’d do a good job. Let me give it some thought. Maybe I can figure out the right place for you after all.”
“I know the right place, sweetheart.” He brushed a lock of hair from my face. “Inside of you. That’s where I belong. How do I apply for that job?”
I smiled. “I’m pretty sure you already have that job, Mr. Lockwood. You’ve been inside of me for a long time. I was just too afraid to admit it.”
Weston looked deep into my eyes. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“I love you, Soph. I’ll never let you down again.”
I smiled. “I love you too, you pain in my ass.”
Weston brushed his lips with mine.
My heart felt full, yet there was still something I needed to know. “What would your real bid have been?”
“For The Countess?”
I nodded.
“I valued the hotel at just under a hundred million. So my bid would have been two million for the minority share. Why?”
I grinned. “My bid was two point one. I would’ve won anyway.”
Weston chuckled. “Is that important to you?”
“Hell, yeah. I would’ve beaten you fair and square. Now I can lord it over you, rather than have you think you let me win.”
He smiled. “You’re going to lord it over me?”
“Just every chance I get.”
“You know, I’m in grovel mode now. Eventually it’ll irritate me if you rub that in my face. I don’t like to lose. But it’s fine. There’s no one in this world I’d rather fight with or make up with. I see a lot of fighting and fucking in our future.”
I rolled my eyes. “How romantic.”
“That’s me. Mr. Romantic. You’re one lucky girl.”
Epilogue
* * *
Weston - 18 months later
“Come in!”
My office door opened, and a face I hadn’t expected to see smiled at me.
Louis Canter glanced around the room. “Well, look at you roughing it.”
My office furniture consisted of a folding table, metal chair, and three milk crates I’d used as makeshift file cabinets. A lone light bulb hung overhead from a long, orange extension cord. Making my office presentable wasn’t high on my to-do list.
I got up and walked around my desk to greet him. Clasping hands, I teased, “What, are you slumming today? You know the only view of the park we get at this hotel is the one across the street where crack deals go down.”
He chuckled. “The construction in the lobby looks good. It reminds me a lot of the early days when I started at The Countess.”
“Somehow I don’t think Grace had to pay off bums to stop urinating in the entrance way.”
“Maybe not. But the energy feels the same. There’s a buzz when you walk in that front door—contractors trying to finish up the last of things, new employees running around to get everything in tip-top shape for when the first guests arrive. It feels like something special is about to happen.”
I smiled. I’d thought it was just me who felt it. Six weeks after the Sterling family had taken over at The Countess, I’d been on my way to visit Mr. Thorne when I noticed a For Sale sign in the window of a boarded-up hotel. The real estate agent happened to be inside, so I stopped in. While she talked on her cell phone, I looked around. The place had been a disaster of cobwebs and neglect. But the sign over what had once been the lobby’s reception desk caught my eye. Hotel Caroline. At that moment, I knew my life was about to change.
The building had been shuttered for five years. Later I’d come to find out the hotel had closed one week to the day after my sister passed away. I’d never been much of a believer in fate, but I liked to think my sister was looking down on me that day, giving me a sign that it was time to get my shit together and grow some balls. This wasn’t the best neighborhood right now, but it was up and coming—what I could afford—and I had faith in the area. More importantly, I had faith in myself. Finally.
One month after walking into Hotel Caroline, a day that happened to be my thirtieth birthday, I handed a check for almost five-million dollars over in exchange for the deed to a hot mess of a hotel. It was the first time I’d touched a dime of the trust fund my grandfather had created as my compensation for being a body of spare parts for my sister.
As a courtesy, that afternoon I’d called my grandfather and father to tell them I’d gone out on my own. Neither had really gotten over what I’d pulled with The Countess. But letting them know felt like the right thing to do.
Neither wished me luck. They also didn’t try to tell me I’d made a mistake. Honestly, they didn’t give two shits. Not to mention, neither remembered it was my birthday. Good riddance. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.
Later that night, I went to see Sophia and celebrated being free exactly the way I’d wanted to—a good fight with my girl. She’d been a little upset that I hadn’t mentioned any of my plans to her until after it was too late. I’d bought a rundown hotel and basically excommunicated myself from my family without saying a word.
To this day, I’m not sure exactly why I did that. Maybe I was afraid she would try to talk me out of it, or maybe it was just something I needed to do on my own. Either way, she wasn’t happy about being kept in the dark. Though she’d forgiven me by the time I gave her three orgasms and untied her.
“So what brings you down here, Louis?” I asked. “Everything still set for tonight at The Countess?”
“Everything is perfect. The maintenance crew started putting things together the minute Sophia left for the airport yesterday. It’ll be all set up by the time you arrive tonight.”
“Great. Thank you.”
Louis had a small, brown paper bag in his hand. He extended it to me. “Thought you might like this. I found it in one of the boxes we pulled from storage.”
My brows drew together. “What is it?”
“A Christmas gift I gave Grace in 1961. I’d forgotten all about it. But take a look. I thought it might be pretty damn fitting for the occasion tonight.”
Inside the paper bag, a glass ornament was wrapped in old newspapers. At first, I didn’t get the significance, but when I turned it around and saw what was painted on the other side, I looked up. “Holy shit.”
Louis smiled. “Life’s a giant circle, isn’t it? Sometimes we think we’ve reached the end and closed the loop, only to realize we’ve arrived back at the beginning again. Good luck tonight, son.”
***
Sophia
I watched from the airport escalator with a smile as Weston scanned the crowd, looking for me. Even if he hadn’t been the tallest person in most rooms, he’d stick out above the rest. There was something so magnetic about him. Sure, he was tall, dark, and handsome—that went without saying. But that wasn’t what set him apart. It was the way he carried himself—feet planted wide, chin held high, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that matched the cocky grin that always seemed to threaten at the corners of his lips. He stood in baggage claim, holding a bunch of flowers, and I was certain the hearts of a few women in the vicinity were going pitter-patter at the scene.
Halfway down, he spotted me, and his ever-threatening grin burst into a full smile. We’d been together more than a year and a half now, and it was a
lmost a year since we’d taken the leap and moved in together, yet his sexy smile could still melt my panties. He strode through the arrival area toward the escalator, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, smiling as I stepped off.
Weston took my suitcase, snaked his arm around my waist, and pulled me to him. “I was anxious to see you.”
He kissed me as if I’d been gone a month, though I’d just left to visit my grandfather yesterday morning. “Well, this was a nice surprise. Thank you for picking me up.”
Outside the airport, I yanked my coat closed. “I’m definitely not in Florida anymore.”
“Yeah. Supposed to get snow tomorrow.”
“Oooooh. I’d love that. I hope it sticks around for Christmas so we can have a white one.”
“Sweetheart, if it snows tomorrow and it’s still around in two weeks, it’s gonna be a dirty, gray Christmas.”
I pouted. “Don’t ruin my dream just because you’re Scrooge.”
“I’m not Scrooge.”
“Oh good. So then can we finally decorate the apartment this weekend?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I knew the holidays were a tough time of the year for Weston, because decorating reminded him of Caroline. But I wanted to do more than we’d done last year, which was not much.
On the drive into the City, I filled Weston in on my trip. He gave me an update on Hotel Caroline, which was set to open just after the new year. Since he seemed to be in a good mood, I thought I’d broach another conversation I wanted to have.
“So…my grandmother is going to be eighty next month. My grandfather is throwing her a surprise party down in Florida.”
Weston glanced at me. “Oh yeah? That’s nice.”
“I thought maybe we could go down for the party.”
“We?”
“Yes, we.”
“You want me to come to a party filled with Sterlings.”
I nodded. “I do.”