Crescent Hill

by Jackie Wang

  Maggie tensed, then arched her back, her hips rising to meet mine. “Oh my God, that feels so good.”

  Goosebumps danced across her chest, her flesh pale as the snow that surrounded us. I lapped at her pert buds, and watched her breathing get faster and faster. “Tell me to stop,” I challenged her.

  Her hands wrapped around my waist, and I pressed my erection against her. I gave her right nipple another flick, then studied her beneath hooded eyes. “Should I stop?”

  Maggie shook her head. “But we shouldn’t—We can’t here.”

  “Let’s make it quick, then.” I zipped Maggie’s jacket back up and flipped her around. “Besides, where there’s a will, there’s a way,” I whispered. I licked the shell of her ear and blew gently. She moaned against me, her voice the sweetest melody. “Hurry, Roman.”

  Reaching around her hips, I unbuttoned her pants and delved straight for my prize. My fingers found her warm center already engorged and wet beyond belief. “Your panties are soaked,” I whispered.

  “Your fault,” Maggie accused, bracing herself against the tree trunk.

  Rolling her clit between my index and middle fingers, I began stroking her. She responded by arching against me, her bum pressed right up against my hard-on. “Do you feel that? What you do to me?” I asked.

  Maggie nodded.

  “You make me feel that way all the time, without even trying.” I curled my hand, and my middle finger slid effortlessly inside her. Down to the last knuckle. Maggie gasped. Slowly, carefully, I pushed another finger inside her. “Shit,” she swore. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  I couldn’t get enough of her sexy sounds: her sighs, her moans, her laughter, her cursing and teasing. Maybe I was just being a greedy bastard but damn it all, I wanted more. More of her. More of everything.

  She began bucking against me, and I pistoned in and out of her, until her head lolled and she was panting fast. “I need you, Roman. So bad,” Maggie purred, fumbling with my zipper.

  I swatted her hand away. “I want you to come on my hand, and my hand alone, Maggie.”

  “I’ve never done that before,” she replied. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

  “There’s a first for everything,” I told her. With that, I stroked her harder, and harder, until moments later, she screamed my name. I stopped moving, and felt her tight channel pulse against my fingers. Removing my hand, I licked off her juices and watched her watch me. She was wide-eyed, like someone who’d just had an alien encounter. She hastily fixed her outfit and her disheveled hair. “You’re a dirty, dirty man, Roman Finnegan. Fuck. I can’t believe we just did that. I came harder than I did last night.”

  I winked. “You didn’t tell me to stop.”

  “That’s because I didn’t want you to stop.” Maggie winked back, and I felt my balls tighten. God, I’d wanted to take her then and there. But if I’d done that, we would’ve probably alerted the whole neighborhood with her screaming.

  “Of course, I’ll expect you to return the favor sometime,” I said, straight-faced.

  Maggie half-panted, half sighed. “Come on, let’s get to the hotel. We’re going to be late.”

  “You’ll love the makeover,” I said, grinning. “We’ve modernized everything.”

  “I’m not the one you need to impress,” Maggie pointed out. “Like I said, it could go either way with my parents. They’re going to either love it or hate it.”

  “They’ll love it for sure,” I said, weaving my fingers through hers. We walked hand in hand for some time, neither of us saying a word.

  The hotel came into view shortly, a frosty giant. It had been buried overnight by at least four inches of fresh powder. Each window ledge had gained a white mustache, and all the plant life was decked in glistening flakes too. Weak sunlight made everything around us scintillate.

  It was going to be a beautiful day. A good day. I could feel it in my bones.

  Chapter 22

  “What the bloody hell happened?” I cried as soon as I stepped foot in the foyer.

  “You asked me to take down my taxidermy animals, I did. We de-iced the steps, cleaned everything top to bottom…but this?” Langston gestured to the new furniture. “We’re not a fucking Holiday Inn. We’re Crescent Hill Lodge. You’ve gotten rid of everything that made this place charming and rustic!”

  I surveyed the disaster zone before me. Overturned furniture, torn down décor, cowering staff and disoriented faces.

  So they hated the renovation.

  Did they have to fucking destroy everything my team worked all night to assemble?

  I’d had just about enough of this old git and his bullshit. He didn’t deserve my help. I should’ve just kept my money and let their multi-generation business foreclose. That’s what I should’ve fucking done. They’d literally thrown my generosity back at my face, and I wasn’t about to let this go.

  “I take it you don’t like the lodge’s new look?” I asked.

  Langston scowled, his weathered features stormy. “Just wait till Mercy sees this. She’ll hate it even more than I do.” He turned to Maggie. “How could you—did you know he was going to do this?”

  Maggie nodded. “Roman’s been more than generous, Dad. How could you be so ungrateful? This—”

  I held up my hand and interrupted. “It’s perfectly fine. It’s your business, and you make all the decisions.” I nodded to Rhea and Hagan. “I’m terribly sorry, but could you all please remove the new furniture and toss it in the dumpster out back?”

  “Roman—This is high-end—” Rhea began.

  “It doesn’t matter. Just get rid of it,” I said. “The owners don’t appreciate what we’ve done. Donate it if you must. Just put everything back to the way it was.”

  “Now hold on just a minute,” Langston said, startling. “Let’s not be hasty. See what Mercy has to say first.”

  I snickered. “First you come back here with an ego larger than this room, and start wrecking everything. Now you want to change your mind? Langston, you…you’re a piece of work. I’m fed up with you.”

  Langston’s mottled cheeks shook. “I just said, let’s wait until my wife gets here.”

  As if on cue, Mercy stepped over the threshold with Jason and Greg in tow. The boys’ small, gaping mouths were smothered in chocolate sauce. Mercy’s jaw dropped when she saw the state of the foyer. “What the hell happened in here?”

  Everyone looked to Langston, who rubbed his neck and said, “They renovated everything. Made our place look like some fancy, modern hotel, when it’s—”

  “Dad threw a fit,” Maggie said, folding her arms across her chest. “Like a child. He went around destroying things again.” Judging by the way Maggie said ‘again’, I assumed this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

  “Magnolia,” Langston warned.

  Jesse and Caitlyn joined the group soon after. “What’s the—” Jesse paused mid-sentence when he noticed the new curtains and mahogany furniture. “Did we win the lottery or something? Holy shit!” But then he saw the mess Langston had created and frowned. “Let me guess, Dad threw a tantrum again?”

  “Roman renovated the lodge for free. But Dad hated it, so he started destroying everything,” Maggie explained.

  Langston turned to Mercy, still shaking his head. “It’s as much your hotel as it is mine. What do you think, honey? Are you on my side or theirs?”

  Mercy tugged on her earlobes. “I think…”

  All eyes turned to Mercy. She fidgeted with the tiny silver cross that dangled over her collar bone.

  “I’m sorry, Roman, but my husband is right. The furniture…is lovely, but it doesn’t suit our vision of the hotel at all. It’s too…young and modern. This hotel, it’s all about tradition. It’s been around since 1922. Been in the family for generations. I—”

  I held up my hand. “Say no more. Rhea, Hagan, please remove everything and restore the rooms to their former condition.”

  “Roman,” Maggie begged
, grasping the crook of my arm. “Don’t do this. Mom and Dad aren’t thinking straight. That’s why they brought you here. To bring some life back to these walls. They just need some time to adjust.”

  “They’ve made their opinions crystal clear, Maggie. They want tradition. An old-school place. And then they wonder why they can’t turn a profit.”

  Mercy licked her dry lower lip. “Roman, I understand you’re just trying to help…But you could’ve consulted us first instead of—”

  “If I’d consulted you, you would’ve wanted to keep everything the same. That’s the problem with this family. Its values are outdated, and its thinking, stagnant. You can’t survive in modern times with antiquated practices, Mercy.”

  “People come here for the historically-rich ambiance,” Mercy said. “If you make it modern, this lodge loses its charm.”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “There’s no historic charm here, Mercy. You can’t just keep shitty carpeting, peeling wallpaper, hole-ridden bedsheets and slap a “historic” label on it. The industry doesn’t work this way. Even in historic hotels, they have standards. The bedding is new, the décor, tasteful. There’s a difference between historic and just plain old.”

  “Are you saying Mercy and I have bad taste?” Langston asked, taking a large step toward me. He didn’t intimidate me, no matter how angry he looked. Langston was just an ornery old man who was beyond saving. I’d met plenty of men like him before. My father, though I didn’t remember much about him, was probably the same way.

  “That’s the problem with you, Langston, you take everything so goddamn personally. I’m trying to fix your business. I don’t give a shit about your personal tastes and preferences. Your business reflects your brand, not your personal quirks. I’m trying to make this place generate revenue for you. But I guess that’s not as important as making sure the lodge reflects your personal preferences.”

  “No one has complained before,” Langston grumbled.

  “That’s because no one bloody comes here!” I said. “Of course there won’t be complaints. You don’t even have guests in the first place.”

  “We have some guests,” Mercy squeaked. “It’s not entirely fair—”

  “And the ones that do stay will probably high-tail it out of there first thing in the morning and never look back! A hotel’s reputation is everything. Why can’t you see that?”

  Mercy crumpled against Langston, dry sobs racking her cherubic face. “Oh, Roman. Please, don’t be so harsh on us.”

  I took a breath. “You asked for my expertise. But I won’t shove it down your throat. I’ll pack my bags right now.”

  “No! Roman, no!” Maggie shouted. “Please, you’re not done yet. We still have nine days left.”

  “Not after this fiasco,” I said. “You were right. It’s clear your parents don’t want to change a goddamn thing about their precious hotel.”

  Rhea came downstairs and asked, “Should we send some of this back to Barrel Point?”

  “If they want it,” I said. “I’ve got a few phone calls to make, excuse me.”

  Maggie ran after me and followed me all the way up to my room. I began tossing shirts into my open suitcase, trying to quell the rage bubbling in my veins. Those goddamn ingrates…this was a colossal waste of my time…

  “You can’t leave, Roman. Not yet. Give us more time. We still have the wedding and—”

  “I’ll have to cancel everything, Maggie. Don’t you understand? Your parents refuse to adapt. I’ve been here almost a week, and they’ve been fighting me every step of the way. I can’t—I refuse to work with people like that.”

  “Stay for me, then. Stay for my boys and me,” Maggie whispered, wrapping her hands around mine. “I’m not ready to say goodbye, Roman.”

  “My offer still stands, Maggie. Come with me.” I paused and gripped Maggie’s shoulders. “Leave this drama. Leave these narrow-minded, small town gossips. Leave the stress and the bad memories and just come with me.”

  “I won’t abandon my parents,” Maggie said. “Not like this. Not when they’re about to go bankrupt.”

  “I tried, Maggie. You know I did. I put a lot of my time, energy and own money into this project. Believe me, I wanted this place to flourish. I wanted to see it succeed.”

  “I know you did, Roman. And you still can. Let’s reconvene and have a proper discussion. A logical conversation, not one fueled my emotions.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  Maggie’s eyes watered. “I’ll speak with my parents. Please, Roman. Give my family another chance. I promise, they won’t disappoint you.”

  I sighed. I was never good at saying no to a beautiful woman. “Okay, I’ll give them until tomorrow morning. Then, if things aren’t better, I’m booking the first flight out.”

  “Thank you, Roman. Thank you!” Maggie gave me a kiss on the cheek before disappearing out the door. I heard her frantic footsteps thump downstairs.

  Moments later, Daniel appeared in my doorway. He was wearing a bathrobe, and his hair was disheveled. “What the hell was all that commotion this morning?”

  I explained the situation to him while he took it all in.

  “Those ungrateful bastards,” Daniel muttered. “We worked so hard for nothing. Ridicule.”

  “Maggie thinks she can change their minds,” I said, pacing the room. “I’ll give them until tomorrow morning.”

  “If it was me, I would not even give them that luxury,” Daniel sneered. “You are too generous.”

  “Yeah, but you’re a hard ass, mate. Besides, I…I don’t think I’m quite ready to say goodbye to her yet.”

  Daniel snapped his fingers. “I knew it. I knew you two had something happening.”

  “It might be nothing,” I said slowly. “But it could be something. Something really good.”

  Daniel studied me. “Did you sleep with her?”

  I sighed. “That obvious?”

  Daniel nodded. “Guess you couldn’t resist her?”

  “It just sort of…happened. I didn’t plan to—”

  “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but, you’re leaving soon, Roman.”

  “I want to take her with me.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Have you seen her family? They’d never let you steal their daughter away from them.”

  I hadn’t considered that.

  “Well, it’s not up to them. It’s up to Maggie, whether or not she wants to come.”

  Daniel sighed, as if I was already a lost cause. “Should I still train the chefs today for the wedding menu?”

  I bit my lip. Langston and Mercy had already made it plenty clear they didn’t want my help. But if we didn’t get the staff up to speed, we could ruin Bella and Wesley’s big day. That wedding was non-negotiable. I had to set aside my pettiness in that respect. “Yes, please get the staff up to speed. The wedding will happen, whether we’re here to help them or not. Bella and Wesley shouldn’t have to suffer because of our differences with the hotel owners.”

  “Okay. See you later then,” Daniel said. “And cheer up, old friend. We will sort things out.”

  “Thanks, Daniel. I hope you’re right.”

  Chapter 23

  “What’s going on? Doing renovations for our wedding?” Bella asked, her eyes dancing from room to room. “It looks fabulous.”

  I watched Mercy usher Bella and Wesley into the restaurant. “Something like that, yes,” Mercy murmured. “Follow me this way, please.”

  Bella clapped her hands together. “It’s lovely. Ooh, look at this new furniture. Fantastic. Where did you buy it from?”

  Mercy licked her lower lip. “Actually…” She spotted me and gestured for me to come over. “Roman can tell you the details. He arranged the whole thing.”

  “Is that right, Mr. Finnegan? You have excellent taste,” Bella said. “I need furniture just like this for our new house. Where—”

  “Barrel Point and Venue One,” I said. I turned to Mercy, who was sweati
ng and tugging on her scratchy collar. “A word, please?”

  Mercy pawned Bella off to Caitlyn before joining me outside the dining area.

  “So, have you and Langston made a decision yet? Will you stick with what’s failed before, or try something new?”

  Mercy picked at her half-bitten fingernails, avoiding my gaze. “We’ve…given it much thought and…We’d…like you to stay.”

  “And?”

  Mercy swallowed hard. Then again. As if there was a lump in her throat she couldn’t quite get down. “And we’re sorry about the way we behaved. We were…unprofessional and rude.”

  “Thank you.” I knew it wasn’t easy for a woman like Mercy Summers to admit to her faults, but I was glad that Maggie managed to turn them around.

  I rested a reassuring hand on Mercy’s shoulder. “There’s five days left until the wedding, Mercy. Make them count. We hold a re-launch party next Friday, and I’ll be gone soon after that. You and your family need to keep things afloat after I’m gone.”

  “We’ll do our best, Roman.”

  “And nothing less,” I reminded her. “Your futures are at stake, not mine.”

  Mercy nodded and shakily cracked a few knuckles. “Could you please tell your team…”

  “Why not tell them yourself?” I gestured for Rhea, Hagan, and five others to come over.

  “Mercy has something she’d like to say,” I said, looking to Mercy for the initiative.

  Rhea looked annoyed as she set down a box and placed her hands on her hips. “What is it now? Hate the wallpaper too?”

  “I’m sorry for the outburst this morning,” Mercy apologized. “We were shocked. But upon careful reflection, we realize how wrong we were. If it isn’t too much trouble, could you fix everything and put all the new furniture back?”

  The movers groaned. “Listen, lady,” said one of them, “Make up your damn mind. Is this going or staying?”

  “Staying,” Mercy said, flashing them a crooked smile. “Definitely staying. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”

  Rhea looked at me, and I nodded. “Terribly sorry, Rhea. The owners are…fickle. I will pay your team triple for their labor.”