Mortified, my jaw came unhinged. “O-oh my G-God. I’m so s-sorry. I d-didn’t…” I forced my teeth to unclench. And then I counted. One...two…three… By the time I got to four, my tongue loosened up enough to finish my thought. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t p-paying attention.”
Grateful that I’d managed to cobble together an entire sentence, I crouched to snag the mangled cup.
“Leave it,” Greg said, curving a hand around my elbow and urging me to my feet. “Someone will be along in a second.”
As if by magic, one of the bussers scooted around me, a safety cone in one hand and a blue cloth in the other.
“No worries, Miss Lily,” he said as he dropped to one knee to sop up the mess.
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I stepped out of the way. “Th-Thank you.”
Greg tightened his grip on my elbow, maneuvering us to a quiet corner. “I was looking for you,” he said, his thumb sweeping back and forth along the inside of my arm. The gesture was intimate, and my back stiffened in response. Greg had never crossed the line or showed the least bit of interest. And I wasn’t sure if he was aware of the caress.
“Well you f-found me.”
“I’ve got a new piano player coming to audition in the lounge tomorrow night. I’d love to get your input. Do you think you could meet me for a drink and we could check him out?”
Was he asking me on a date, or was this business? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I’d only had one serious boyfriend throughout high school and college. Bradley Westover. Douchebag. His parents were in the same social circle as mine, and he’d known me for most of my life. Looking back, our relationship was never ideal. There was no passion. No fun. But my mother had convinced me I was lucky to have him.
Bradley could be with anyone he wants, Lillian. And he chose you…despite your problem.
And I’d believed her. Until I caught him cheating with my ex-best-friend. But even that didn’t deter my mother from singing Brad’s praises. Or my father from hiring him to work at the Tennison Foundation, our family’s conglomerate. Surprisingly, I understood my father’s motivations. It was business. An alliance between our families. It was my mother’s betrayal that cut deep. Because it was personal. She truly believed I was damaged goods. That my stutter made me…less.
“So this is l-like…?”
My unfinished question dangled between us, and Greg dropped his hand. “Strictly business.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. Not that I was interested in Greg. At least I didn’t think I was. But he was someone my mother would deem acceptable. “Of c-course. I’d be happy to g-give an opinion. Although, I’m not really up on the latest music trends.”
After today, that was painfully apparent. If Cameron’s brother hadn’t given me the scoop on Caged when he called to make the arrangements, I never would’ve known who they were.
Greg leaned a hip against the wall. “That’s no problem. I just need a second set of ears.”
Over his shoulder, I spotted a group of our female valets huddled together, talking behind their hands. The Mansion always provided a personal attendant to our VIP guests. Especially those who wanted to maintain a low profile.
Following my gaze, Greg smirked. “I’m guessing they’ve heard that Caged is in the house?”
“Looks like.”
Pushing off the wall, he straightened his tie. “I just hope they’re discreet. We don’t want any scandals.”
I cocked my head. “Why would there be a scandal?”
His eyes flicked to mine, amused. “Did you happen to see the guys when you checked them in?”
My smile melted to irritation because I knew what Greg was inferring. And maybe he was right. At least some of the valets’ excitement could be attributed to the fact that the guys were rock stars. And gorgeous. But my staff were professionals.
“I’m sure their enthusiasm has more to do with d-dollars and cents than anything else,” I assured.
The valets got a small percentage of the overall bill and, in addition, most VIPs left a substantial tip at the end of their stay.
Greg remained unconvinced. “Whatever you say, Lily. Just make sure they know that their actions reflect on the Mansion.”
At the moment, he was the only one whose actions bordered on unprofessional. But rather than bring that up, I jerked a nod. “I b-better get back to work.”
He touched my arm and I froze, my eyes darting to the place we were joined. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”
It was an odd statement, since we’d probably run into each other at least five times before then. Strictly business. I wasn’t so sure. “Yeah…r-right…. tomorrow.”
Greg sauntered away, and I shook my head, doing my little counting ritual in preparation for addressing the staff. I liked my job, but I couldn’t wait until I graduated so I could move on. This position had always been a means to an end. Not that I wasn’t qualified. I’d spent over a year in the business program at SMU before changing my major to Art. And I was Marcus Tennison’s daughter.
“Leadership is in your blood,” Daddy used to say.
But then I’d catch sight of my mother, her pursed lips and pinched brow silently belying his assertion. And in the end, she’d been right. I was an artist, destined to work in a gallery. To paint and sculpt. I couldn’t wait to join that world and leaved this one behind.
“Hey, y’all.” The staff straightened up as I approached. “Looks like we’re going to have a busy week. The Harrison group is having their annual—”
“What about Caged. Are they here?” Chloe interjected.
I snapped my gaze from my clipboard to the perky redhead. “Um…y-yes. As a matter of fact—”
“I’ve got dibs on Logan,” she announced, green eyes twinkling with excitement.
“That’s fine,” Riley, a willowy brunette piped up. “Cameron’s cuter anyway.”
As fate would have it, Riley was the one I’d picked for Cameron. She was more than qualified. One of our best. But instead of giving her the card with Cameron’s information, I stowed it in my pocket. “Sorry, Rye. I need you with Ms. Harrison this w-week.” Where the hell did that come from? I wasn’t sure, but I was running with it. “She’s entertaining investors for her new project. Her limo’s arriving in an hour. If you could m-meet her out front?”
Riley’s face fell, but she nodded. “Of course.”
Somehow, I managed to hand out the rest of the assignments without stammering. All except Cameron’s. Every time I looked into one of the girls’ eager faces, his smoldering hazel eyes flashed in my mind’s eye.
Once everyone was on their way, I peeked into the break room and found Dave, one of our senior valets, pouring over this week’s menu. Dave rarely handled clients anymore but functioned as a liaison for the events staff.
He smiled when he noticed me hovering by the door. “Is there something you need, Miss Lily?”
“No, thank you” danced on the tip of my tongue, but when I opened my mouth it was as if someone else hijacked my vocal chords.
“Um… yeah. I’ve got an important c-client in Bungalow D. Cameron Knight. His brother is a big land developer in Austin.” It was the truth, but that didn’t keep my hand from shaking when I held out the card with Cameron’s information. “If you wouldn’t m-mind handling it for me, I’d really appreciate it.”
* * *
The grounds at The Mansion were massive, and as elegant as the interior. A huge pool with an outdoor bar sat empty, steam rising from the adjacent hot tub. Passing through the gate to the private bungalows, I trekked across a tree-lined path, double-checking the envelope for my suite number. After some searching, I stumbled across the right building, tucked behind a small grouping of trees.
Once inside, I dropped my sunglasses on the marble sofa table and took a look around. The room was top notch, sporting a gourmet kitchen, a bar, and a huge master suite.
“Not bad, Chase. Not bad at all.”
My thoughts wandered to Christian i
n the hospital, and what could have happened if he’d been a few seconds later or earlier on the road. And then to Lily. That pretty pink tongue. The nervous stammer. Those pale baby blues.
Don’t even think about it.
I could almost hear my brother’s warning.
Chase did business in Dallas and stayed at the Mansion whenever he was in town. Banging the events coordinator would definitely piss him off. Especially if I never called her again.
Sighing, I pushed all thoughts of the cute little blonde aside and unpacked my suitcase. When my stomach growled, I strolled to the kitchen to check the fridge. All the necessities: bottled water, a twelve pack of Shiner Bock, and a tray filled with cheese and fruit.
Ignoring the ringing phone, I snagged a bottle of water and the tray, then headed to the living room. I ached to burn off some of the tension twisting my back into knots, but I’d need some workout gear first.
Popping a strawberry into my mouth, I pulled the envelope from my pocket. Lily’s card fell out when I turned it upside down to remove the contents. A number was scrawled on the back in delicate script. I contemplated for only a moment before grabbing my cell phone.
“Lily Tennison,” came her satiny smooth voice.
Opening the brochure, I laid it across my lap. “Hey, Lily. This is Cameron.” Silence. “Cameron Knight.” More silence. I sat up, my feet hitting the floor with a thud. I couldn’t be that fucking forgettable. “I was just in your office—”
“Of c-course, Mr. Knight. What can I do for you?”
I scowled. She couldn’t see me, but I knew I was scowling. And that was enough. Time to teach Ms. Tennison a lesson. She wouldn’t be forgetting me after I got through with her.
“I need you to fetch me some workout clothes, darlin’. Size large.”
When she didn’t answer, I looked down at the blank screen on my phone. With a sigh, I stood up and hit redial. The phone rang twice and went to voicemail. And then it sank in. She’d hung up on me.
What the fuck.
Sinking back onto the sofa, I scratched my head. The last woman to hang up on me was my mama. And that was years ago.
Chewing on another strawberry, I deliberated while I stared at the phone. I was about to call the front desk when a knock echoed in the suite. Hauling to my feet, I walked cautiously across the room. Through the peephole, I spied a mass of blond hair.
“Can I help you?” I ventured, fingers poised on the deadbolt.
“Mr. Knight, this is Lily Tennison—”
I yanked open the door and her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything, blinking up at me like a deer in headlights.
That’s more like it.
Smiling, I leaned against the door frame. “Hey, Lily,” I drawled. “I believe we were disconnected. You didn’t have to come all the way out here to find out my size.”
Finding her voice, she bit out. “I-I didn’t. And j-just so you know, I don’t f-fetch, Mr. Knight.”
“Just an expression. No need to get all worked up. And call me Cameron.”
“I’m n-not worked up. I-I just…”
Damn, she was cute when she was flustered. All fiery eyed, and blushing. Retracing my steps, I dropped onto the sofa and snagged a piece of melon from the tray.
“Aren’t you going to come in?” Hitching a brow, I propped my feet on the expensive as fuck coffee table. “I thought of a few more things while you were on your way over.”
Lily looked around as if she just realized that she’d been outmaneuvered. I was the guest. And a VIP.
Lifting her chin, she stepped inside, clasping her hands in front of her. “My email address is on the c-card. I’d be more than happy to pass on your r-requests to our personal sh-shopper.”
Smiling, I speared another piece of fruit. “Now, why would I do that? You’re already here.”
Fire flashed in her eyes as she marched to the desk.
Inclining my head to get a better view, I took in an eyeful of her luscious backside when she passed. I snapped my gaze to hers when she turned, a notepad in her hand.
“What exactly can I get for you, Mr. Knight?”
Holding the pen so tightly I could see the white in her knuckles, she waited for me to tick off my list.
“The workout clothes I mentioned. Size large. A couple of pairs of jeans. Boot cut. Size 32x36. T-shirts and socks.” Draping an arm over the back of the couch, I looked her up and down. “And underwear.”
Scribbling furiously, she didn’t look up. “Boxers, briefs…” Her pen finally came to rest, and a smile hitched up one corner of her mouth. “Or panties?”
Choking on the piece of melon trying to make its way down my throat, my eyes bugged. Lily casually strode to the table and handed me the half empty bottle of water.
I took a large swallow, a couple of tears stinging my eyes as I glared up at her. The girl was too cocky for her own good. But instead of being a turn off, all the blood raced south to my dick.
And what the fuck was that about?
She blinked at me innocently when I stopped coughing. “Well?”
“Boxers,” I growled.
With a smile, she finished jotting down her note, then tore the paper from the pad and tossed the notebook on the table. “I’ll make sure to have these delivered as soon as possible.”
Instead of walking around, she stepped over my legs, causing her skirt to hike up her thighs. Resisting the urge to pull her down on the sectional, I fell back against the cushions and watched her stalk out of the room.
* * *
Two hours later, I was dozing on the couch when a rap on the door pulled me from my sleep. Lily. Why she was the first person I thought of, I couldn’t say. Peering through the peephole, my shoulders sagged when I spotted a balding man in his mid forties. Definitely not Lily.
“Can I help you?”
“Mr. Knight? I’m Dave, your valet.” Smiling, he lifted the name tag on the front of his white smock. “I’ve brought your dinner, along with some items Ms. Tennison asked me to deliver.”
I flipped the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Dave’s grin widened. “May I come in, sir?”
“Of course.” I stepped aside, holding the door for him. “And call me Cameron.”
“Very well, sir.” He backed into the room, pulling the cart over the threshold. “Where would you like to eat, sir?”
No matter how hard I tried, I would never get used to a man many years older calling me “sir” just because he happened to be serving my dinner. Or washing my car. My father was a horse’s ass, but my mama taught me to respect my elders.
I tipped my chin to the table in front of the TV. “Over there is fine.”
With a nod, Dave set about to unload the cart. Grabbing a couple of plates, I set them down next to the others. He smiled at me appreciatively.
“May I turn down your bed, sir?”
Patting him on the back, I shook my head. “If you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I’m going to send you packing.” Reclaiming my seat on the couch, I tossed him a smile. “I’m grown, Dave; I think I can manage to pull back the comforter all by myself.”
“Very well…” Dave was on the verge of another “sir” when I leveled him with a warning glare. Clearing his throat, he shifted his feet. “If you don’t mind, I’ll check the refrigerator and see what needs to be replenished. I’ll be right back to take your order for breakfast, assuming you’ll be dining in your room.”
I pointed at the two empty water bottles. “That’s all I’ve taken from the fridge, plus some fruit and cheese, and I noticed an extra case of water in the pantry. So, no worries.” Intercepting the ever-efficient valet when he tried to remove the silver covers from the plates of food, I motioned for him to sit. “Take a load off, Dave. I insist.”
He blinked at me, unsure, then eased onto the chair and folded his hands in his lap.
Having ordered a sample of most of the appetizers on the menu, I had way too much food in front of me, so I pushed a plate of buffalo w
ings in his direction. “Hungry?”
His gaze shifted to the heaping plates of food. From the looks of him, Dave liked his groceries. “I really should be getting back,” he said, with no conviction.
Licking the sauce from my fingers, I raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be my personal go-to guy or something?”
“Yes, sir…Cameron…”
I nudged the plate a little closer to him. “Well, then go to it, son. Let’s not let this food go to waste.”
He served himself a single buffalo wing and I barked out a laugh. “Come on, now. You can do better than that.”
Smiling sheepishly, Dave loaded his plate with potato skins, cheese sticks, and a few other tidbits. With the band on the tail end of a two-month tour, I should’ve savored eating alone. But I just wasn’t that kind of guy.
“So how long have you worked at The Mansion?” I asked after polishing off a potato skin.
Pondering, his eyes drifted to the ceiling. “Let’s see. Twenty-five years. I started here the year my daughter Sylvia was born.”
He chuckled, looking down at his plate.
“What’s so funny?”
“My daughter…not Sylvia…Raquel, she would keel over if she knew I was eating dinner with Cameron Knight.”
I paused with the water bottle halfway to my lips. “You know who I am?”
Dave nodded. “I have two daughters, Mr.…er, Cameron. I’m a little long in the tooth, but I’m not completely out of touch.”
I laughed. “Two daughters, huh? Bet that keeps you on your toes.”
“You have no idea.”
Being on the road, I had a very good idea. But I wanted to have a quiet dinner, not give Dave a heart attack.
“Are those the packages Lily sent over?” I asked when I notice the Neiman Marcus bags hanging from the handle of the cart.
“Yes, sir.”
Intrigued, I shoved to my feet and retrieved the goodies. Upending the first bag, an array of pastel pink and lavender t-shirts tumbled onto the couch.
The fuck?