by Adair Rymer
My heels crunched on shards of broken glass as I carefully made my way out onto the expansive, cobblestone balcony. I wasn't dressed to be outside in December, but that didn't matter. Heat lamps lined the overhang roof and the bottom of the metal railings that ran down the length of the building's balcony.
Maynard leaned on the railing and looked out over the city he called home. The hotel's height made the view incredibly serene. We were up too high to hear the horns and hustle of everyone on the ground.
I carefully navigated the uneven stone flooring to sidle up next to him. I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth next, a joke, a come-on or maybe even an insult, but I did expect him to say something.
Nothing came. For a long while we didn't speak at all, we just stared out over the horizon. The sky was overcast, but the stars were still out in the form of a million window lights, that shined below us. It felt like we were gods standing above the heavens.
Sexual innuendos aside, I understood the appeal of living somewhere sixty-nine floors off the ground. The scope of it made all my problems seem so insignificant. I wasn't totally cool with heights, but something about the breathtaking view just filled me with this sense of hope.
I looked at Maynard. His hair was rustled slightly, and the suit he wore wasn't as pristine as when I'd first seen him in the lobby. It dawned me that I'd seen Maynard as a one-night-stand, a mystery, and as a larger-than-life host, but never did I take a moment to try to see him as just a man.
“Hey,” I said. Maynard turned slowly to face me. He was just a handsome man, whose burning blue eyes made my knees quiver...“Are you OK?”
Chapter 6
Maynard
I didn't know how to answer her.
What the hell happened to me in there? Nothing was going as planned.
“I'm not sure I know what OK is.” I chuckled, shaking my head. I couldn't meet her eyes, not yet. Whenever I get too stressed out my body goes into hyperdrive. Getting laid calms me down, and when that didn't work, I didn't know how to react so I just exploded. I wasn't proud of it. “But I'm sorry if I frightened you.”
“I'm alright.” Claire positioned herself to be more under the overhead heat lamp, which brought her dangerously close to me. “I think you might have hurt the building's feelings though.”
I cracked a small smile. Humor was her defense mechanism, her way of calming down the situation. It was a nice change from mine, which was to rile everything up. Claire and I were polar opposite in so many ways. That difference made me feel like shit.
I came after her to make myself feel better and ended up flipping the fuck out out when I didn't get my way. Claire came out on this balcony, not for herself, but for me. She walked out here when no one else would, just to see if I was alright.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Was I always like this? I wanted to blame it on my parents death, but... Shit, that was ten years ago now. At some point I had to take responsibilities for my own actions, didn't I?
“Funny thing about buildings like this,” I took a deep breath and finally turned to look at her. God, she was perfect. Her green eyes beamed, reminding me of why I moved into the top floor of this building so many years ago. The view was so captivating that I decided I never wanted to wake up and see anything else. “They usually have a way of outlasting the people that built them.”
“Are you—” A shiver ran through her, raising her shoulders. I'd done a decent job of heating the balcony, but outside, winter would always win. Even the outfit I chose for her was selfish. It didn't come with any protection from the cold. And she'd come out here to talk to me, despite knowing she wasn't dressed for it. Guilt slid into my side like a cold knife.
I took off my suit jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. I didn't want to be the way I was. Until tonight with Claire, I hadn't realized how hollow it was living only for myself.
“Thanks.” Claire looked genuinely surprised at the gesture. That only confirmed what I was thinking. No one expected me to be a decent person, not even her. Another stab between the ribs. “Are you really losing the hotel?”
Was she a masochist? She'd have to be if she believed I was a lost cause. I really hoped that wasn't the case.
“Looks that way.”
“Can I ask you something?” Her hands poked out between my jacket's lapel as she closed the fabric tighter.
“Depends on the something.” I scolded myself for the snarky reply. It was that kind of shit, that made people think you're an asshole. I sighed putting out a more even tone, “Sure.”
“Why do you care so much about this hotel? You have the money to buy another one right across the street. You could make it even nicer than this if you wanted too.”
“It's not the concrete and steel I care about.” I looked out over the city, my city. Dreams were made and crushed every day here. But if you could make it in NYC you could make it anywhere.
“This Hotel- 'The M,' was named after me, back when I was only a baby. Back when I was too young to talk my parents out of it.” I shrugged and watched as Claire cracked a small smile. “Back then it was actually much smaller, a lot of work has been done on it since. It was the first building they ever bought, and for some reason they left it to me in their will.
“I never really understood why. They should've left it to Bianca instead, she always had more of a head for business than I did.”
I let the view steal me away again. It always had a way of humbling me. Down there I was a celebrity, people I'd never met knew my name. But up here, I was no one. I was just one of the eight and a half million people that lived here.
“I read up on them a little, they became very charitable after they bought this place. Maybe the hotel was supposed to be symbolic for you.” Her voice, soft and honest, was a soothing balm on old wounds. “Maybe they were hoping it would somehow help you grow, like it did them?”
I snorted, closing my eyes. If that was the case, then I seriously let them down. I've only gotten worse since inheriting it. I should probably just let Bianca take it. But if I did that I'd have to face the reality, that my parents faith in me was wrong. That deep down, there was no hope for me to be a better man.
I'd gone out of my way to prove to people that with me, what you saw was what you got. As long as I had some pussy and enough distractions, I was happy as a clam. After tonight, I wasn't so sure I could ever go back to that blissful ignorance.
“Why did you stay?” I gently tucked her bangs behind her ear so that I could see the expression on her smooth oval face. I studied her supple, inviting lips, searching for impossible answers. The urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming.
It didn't make sense. Claire didn't know me. She'd already been paid and she didn't strike me as a girl who was capable of playing the gold digger long game. No one has had any reason to believe in me since my parents died.
“I—” Claire thought for a moment, then exhaled with upturned eyes. “I don't know.”
I nodded appreciatively. At least she was honest, I admired that. I didn't want to press on it, I was just glad she did stay.
“About Chance, I had no idea he'd be here.” I could only imagine what that must've been like for her. “My sister can be ruthlessly efficient in getting what she wants, even if that means hurting people along the way.”
“I got that impression by the way she was practicing that Medusa stare of hers.” Claire frowned. “Wish she'd use that on him.”
“What did he do to you?” I asked her. With guys like Chance, it was never anything good.
“Same thing he did to every girl.” Claire nearly spat the words. “Chance had knack for leaving broken girls in ruin. And I was no different.” Claire's voice went heartrendingly soft. She had a fixed, distant look in her eyes. It was the same wounded expression she wore when she saw Chance, right before she walked off on me. I was going to ask her to elaborate, but I kept quiet. The painful emotions had to be shared freely, they couldn't be pried out of a person.
“We dated for a few months, and it was everything I'd hope my first real college relationship would be.” Claire continued. Her voice picked up as good memories swept over her. “He was kind, thoughtful and the sex was alright.”
Jealously bubbled within my gut at the thought of that greasy surfer touching her.
“Then the credit card bills started coming in.” Claire balled her hands into fists, her demeanor darkened considerably. “My parents got me one for emergencies, and I applied for another to build my credit. Credit cards honestly kind of terrified me. I only ever used them for small stuff like my Hulu account. So I was confused as hell when I saw they were maxed out.”
“And when you confronted him?” I was beginning to see how this dirt bag operated. Chance gave parasites a bad name.
“I never even got the chanc—” Claire caught herself. “God, he's even ruined that word for me!” She took a breath, before continuing. “He was gone before I could say anything so I did some digging. Come to find out, all his crazy exes had a similar story.”
Claire had begun shaking. If I asked her, I was sure she'd blame it on the cold. We'd both know it wasn't true. “I’ll make sure he's kicked out.”
“But he's your sister's date.” Claire sniffed, trying to regain her composure. To her credit, she didn't allow him to make her cry again.
“I couldn't give a damn what Bianca has to say about it. Besides as far as she's concerned, he's already done his part. She wont care what happens to him now.” Next time I saw Chance, I'd have some of the more violent men on my security team take him outside and kick the shit out of him.
“So, yeah.” Claire strained a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. She turned her back to me and took a step away. “Your sister really knows how to pick them. I guess we have that in common.”
Claire was something else. She would try to ease the tension in the air even if it hurt her to do so. I didn't understand how a person could be so selfless, I felt tarnished just by being near her.
“You have nothing in common with Bianca. That's why I like you.” I came up behind her and rubbed her arms, through the jacket. I might not be able to soothe the pain of her ex but I could warm her up a little more. I leaned forward, so the heat of my words grazed her ear. “The gymnast thing doesn't hurt either.”
Her face lit up as she looked back at me incredulously. She began to say something but a heavy gust of wind whipped through the balcony and staggered Claire forward. One of her heels stuck between the stones and snapped off, she squeaked out a gasp and started to topple.
She'd jerked forward so quickly that when I closed my grip on her, all I was holding was the bunched fabric of my jacket. She wasn't in any danger of going over the railing, but the way she was falling to the stone flooring was bound to sprain or break something.
Dropping the jacket I lunged forward and grabbed her out of the air. With one hand on the small of her back and the other on her wrist, I pulled her body into me. I could feel her heartbeat racing as she crushed me in a hug. The rhythmic pulses of her heart thrummed like a rock concert drum beat. It seemed to speed up the closer I held her. The lavender scent of her conditioner filled my senses, transporting me back to her apartment.
To hell with the rest of the party. Had it been warmer, I'd have taken her right here on the balcony.
I wanted her so much more now that we talked. I didn't even try to hide my erection, that dug into her inner thigh. She didn't make any move to pull away. I let go of her arm and slid that hand down her thigh. What would it be like to have sex with someone who knew more than just my name?
“Uh, sir?” Came a voice from inside. I peered over Claire's shoulder with angry squinted eyes at whoever would disturb us. It was one of my employees. “Sorry to bother you, sir! It's just, you asked me to find you at ten of eleven for your speech and toast. Are you still doing that?”
“Shit...” I hated the idea of letting Claire out of my arms, but she was cold. And the toast was tradition. I begrudgingly thanked the man and told him to set it up, then I turned back to Claire.“Hold on.”
“Hey!” Her eyes flashed in concern, as I took her into my arms and carried her back inside. She could protest all she wanted, but I wasn't about to let her walk over jagged glass with a broken shoe.
She was cradled easily in my arms, I didn't put her down right away. I looked at Claire intently. Staring into those shinning eyes stirred all these feelings within me that I didn't think myself capable of. Claire made me feel spontaneous, but it was more than that.
A new resolve washed over me. I felt good, really good! Better than I had in as long as I could remember.
“Something wrong?” Claire smiled. She must have seen it too.
I shook my head at her question, and gently set her down. Most of this floor was carpeted so Claire kicked off both shoes and went barefoot. I took her hand and together we walked toward grand ballroom, where I usually held the annual toast.
“So what's going on?” She asked, watching the several hundred people coalesce into one massive audience. The grand ballroom was the one room that mostly remained unchanged with each event. The crystal chandeliers twinkled above the cavernous room. Golden pillars and marble sculptures punctuated the classical Italian architecture. “I take it this is something of a tradition?”
“Something like that. This year I feel like mixing it up a little bit.” I gave Claire a mischievous smile. She regarded me warily, not having any idea what I meant by that. I still had this hotel for another hour, maybe I could do something good with that. Make my parents proud. “Feel like making a little history?”
Because of Claire, this year's toast would be different.
This year, I could be different.
Chapter 7
Claire
Maynard took the stage looking a little disheveled. He had brushed his short hair back, but hadn't gotten the wind completely out of it. His shirt was tucked in and vest buttoned, but he didn't have those laser straight, clean lines I'd seen on him at the beginning of the night.
“Greetings, friends. And thank you for coming tonight.” Maynard held the mic with the ease of a professional orator. If this was just a toast, I guess he didn't need to look immaculate. It wasn't like he looked bad, or anything. All the women around me fawned at the way his muscles filled out the arms of his long sleeve shirt.
“I won't take up much of your time this evening, and I'll do my best not to throw another temper tantrum.” Even in self-deprecation, Maynard's smile still melted every set of the panties in the room. “But I make no promises.”
It was only now that he was away from me that my heart had begun to slow down. I still wasn't sure exactly what happened on that balcony. The brightest flashes in my mind weren’t memories, but feelings. The warmth in his hand as it slid down my thigh, the strength in his arms as his caught me... The way he carried me through the broken glass threshold still made my knees weak and my body warm.
I couldn't stop myself from falling into his touch. With the heat of his breath on my skin, I didn't care about my warning earlier about us not having sex. I was a hair's breadth away from making myself into a liar.
Then there was his cock. It was rock hard and pressed against my thigh, slowly sliding toward my pussy. My nipples tried to cut through the front of my shirt and my breathing shallowed.
Agh! I could almost still feel him and it was driving me crazy!
“I don't see people when I look around this room tonight.” Maynard's glib tone evaporated, he now spoke with authority. “I don't see musicians, I see music. I don't see artists and actors, I see culture and expression. Everyone in this room tonight is so much more than just a person. To our fans, we are inspiration and hope. We give them the drive for social change. We give them love, and dreams and rage!
“We are their symbols and concepts.” Maynard continued. He paced the stage with the determination and poise of a man leading troops into battle. “Well those of us that aren't j
ust bored socialites.”
Laughter. Maynard smiled, letting the room's laughter run it's course.
“In this one room, I see a whole generation. With every album or box office sale our fans rally behind us, raise us up and encourage us to keep creating, to keep giving them what they need.”
In the clear skies of smiles and bright eyes that beamed throughout the room, Bianca was the lone, angry rain cloud. She scowled, standing at the back of the room as if perpetually deciding whether she wanted to leave or not. Her folded arms and disapproving glare blatantly displayed how little she thought of her brother's speech.
“This year is over, and you've all done incredible things. Tonight, I'm here to tell you that it's not enough.” Maynard took a few long pulls from a bottle of water, letting the crowd soak the statement in. When he didn't provide an immediate follow up, the sea of confused faces turned to each other for answers.
What was Maynard's game here? Was this what he was getting at when he told me that he felt like mixing it up this year? Then there was that bit about making history, whatever that meant.
Maynard used all the right pretty words to get everyone's attention, but if it wasn't just the yearly obligatory toast about how great the audience, then what was it? Maynard was a conductor, and we were his orchestra. He rioted and soothed our emotions, bringing us high, only to leave us wondering.
“You may have heard the news by now.” Maynard finally resumed. The change in subject was abrupt but it still drew everyone's attention. “This will unfortunately be our last party here at The M. In fact, tonight will be the last night I own the hotel. My sister will be buying it from me.”
I glanced back at Bianca to see if I could read her expression. Her cold eyes had narrowed slightly, but otherwise remained unchanged. She was too much of a hardened business woman to show any emotions that she didn't want read.
“Bianca took care of me as best she could after our parents died.” Maynard took a moment to search the crowd for his sister. When he found her, he addressed her directly. “For as much as we bicker, I want you to know that I care about you, Bianca. I don't think I've ever told you that. And I hope you can honor our parents with this hotel in a way that I never could.”