by Emma Hart
Chloe choked, almost spitting wine across the coffee table.
Peyton gasped, shoving the donut box to the table, then clasping her hands to her chest. “They are not fake, and you know it!”
“So does half the graduating class of our high school!”
“Oookay!” Chloe waved her hands between us. “I have a migraine. Shut your asses.”
I sighed. “Migraines and tension headaches are different. Migraines you get randomly. Tension headaches come when you’re near Peyton.”
“Oooh, you bitch!” Peyton launched a donut at me.
“Hey, hey, hey! Bitching is no reason to be cruel to donuts!” I caught and held the donut to me. “Ooh, and it’s a pink sprinkles one.”
Her eyes widened. “No. That’s mine. Please give it back.”
I looked at the donut and then her. “I don’t know. I like these, too. It won’t talk about my boobs, that’s for sure.”
Peyt whimpered. “I love your boobs. He’s a fool for not loving your boobs. No more ass slapping unless you ask me. Please give back my donut.”
“Interesting,” Chloe said, stroking an imaginary beard. “The weakness is strong with this one.”
“My donut,” Peyt whispered.
I held it out, then quickly whipped it away from her when she reached for it. “Tell me what to do with Hot Boss.”
“Me?” She pointed toward Chloe. “She’s the one who runs the dating website.”
“She’s also been in love with your brother since before she had a period.”
“I can hear that,” Chloe muttered. “And I’m not in love with Dom.”
Peyton grimaced. “Good point. Is the fate of the donut really resting on the slut of the group’s advice?”
“You said that,” Chloe added, looking up from the donut box she’d hijacked sometime between the bickering. “So we can just agree. Even if I don’t think you’re a slut.”
“You don’t?” I asked, grinning. “It depends on the day for me.”
Peyton rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “Look, I’m okay with being free. I just saw a video on Facebook of a woman with over a thousand cats. I like cats, but not that much, and I don’t want to be that kind of cat lady.”
“Where would you keep a thousand pussies?” Chloe frowned.
I didn’t even need to think about it. “Pornhub.”
Slowly, my two best friends turned to look at me. Then, as if they’d synced it, burst out laughing.
The donuts?
Well, my rug got a makeover.
Chapter Eight
Upside #8: You won’t fall down the toilet because the seat is up. Unless you just cleaned it. Then that’s a butt-full of pee-water.
I squealed as I tipped backward on the porcelain. Instantly, I gripped the sides of the toilet seat and shoved myself off it, clenching my Kegels harder than I ever had in my life in the process.
I did not need to pee down my leg today. No way. Nuh-uh.
“Mother—” I stalled, shutting myself up by grinding my teeth together.
Unfortunately, I was at work, and I did not want any tiny, unsuspecting ears who may or may not have been outside to hear me cussing up a storm.
I put the toilet seat down, dried my butt with tissue, and sat back on the seat.
The best thing about this hotel was the fact it was an old home turned hotel. It was a huge house, once upon a time, and the renovations had been simple. This meant that my office, which was once servants quarters, had a tiny bathroom attached. It was just big enough for a sink and a toilet.
I loved it. It meant I could work until I was about to pee myself—helpful, especially if I was comfortable.
Now, when I say I loved it, I mean, I loved it. As in, did.
Since I was no longer the sole user of the tiny bathroom, it became apparent that not even my pee breaks were sacred.
What kind of fresh hell had I stepped into?
First, he saw my boobs. Now, he left the toilet seat up.
I don’t know what I did to piss off karma, but I was over it.
After finishing my business up in the bathroom, I went back into the office. Jake had his head buried in his laptop; chin dipped, eyes down.
I side-eyed him as I walked past him. There was no way he hadn’t heard me shouting, and there was definitely no way he didn’t know what it was for.
A cold ass was not how I wanted to spend my lunch break. And yes, that was a thing, even in New Orleans.
Toilet water was a chill not even a heatwave could get rid of.
I threw myself into my chair and glared at him some more. If he knew, he was blatantly ignoring me.
No, there was no if about it.
He knew.
I could see the damn twitching of his perfect little lips, no matter how much he tried to hide it. He wasn’t very stealthy.
I ignored his ignorance. I owned superglue. I could make it so that toilet seat would always stay down.
Then we’d see how good his target practice was.
“What are your plans for the day?” Jake asked when I opened my email.
I clicked on the top one. “I was going to find out my superglue. I showered this morning, so my ass doesn’t need another wash every time I have to go pee.”
He half-snorted, half-coughed in response. “Rule two: put the toilet seat down, right?”
“Right. Consideration is your friend, Mr. Creed. I’m not a nice person when I think somebody doesn’t care about my wellbeing.”
“Your ass getting a little wet because I left the toilet seat is not caring? Jesus. It’s like living with my sister again.”
“You have a sister?”
“Two of them. Sadly.”
I peered around the side of my screen. “Then you should have good practice in putting the seat down. And if you can’t put the seat down, sit down and tuck it in.”
“Tuck it in? It’s not a shirt, Melanie.”
“Melanie? Whoa, whoa!” I waved my hands and met his eyes. “No. My name is Mellie. The only person who calls me Melanie is my grandmother.” And my friends when they were being extra-assholish.
“I’ll call you Melanie as long as you call me Mr. Creed.”
I blinked at him.
“We appear to have reached an impasse.” He grinned, leaning back. He shifted a few times before sitting up straight. “Damn chair.”
“Fine. Fine. But the real impasse is you not putting the toilet seat down.” I clicked “reply” to the email I was looking over. “Do I need to glue it, or no?”
“No. Please don’t. It might be hard explaining that to the cleaning department.”
“It really won’t be.” I typed out the short reply and sent it. “They’re all women. They’d take great delight in me doing that.”
“I’m beginning to think I’m outnumbered in this building.”
I paused, giving him my full attention. “As a rule, yes. But have you ever seen a man clean a toilet?”
“I don’t usually look in the mirror as I scrub limescale from the porcelain, no,” he replied dryly.
“Interesting.” I tilted my head to the side. “You can clean them, but not leave them the way you found them.”
“I never know if you’re messing with me or if you’re deadly serious.”
“As a rule, if it comes out of my mouth, I’m serious. I’m an asshole at both ends, you know.”
Jake sighed. “You’re so lucky you’re pretty with a mouth like that.”
“What’s wrong with my mouth?”
He met my eyes. “Nothing.”
I clicked my tongue. “You know what’s wrong with yours?”
“What?”
“It lies.” I turned my attention back to my screen. All to the tune of his laughter, of course. He was lying. What the truth was, I didn’t know; I just knew he wasn’t sharing it with me.
“Only when it’s appropriate.” Jake’s lips were fully curved up, and the faint crinkles that framed his eyes only added t
o the charm of the shine that caught in the sunlight. “Mellie, I have an idea.”
I sighed, once again looking at him. “The last time I heard those words, I ended up going for dinner without a bra and flashing random guys.”
“Do you make it a habit?”
“Are you aware that I have work to do?”
“Yes.” He leaned forward, grinning. “Yes. Are you aware you can tell me to shut up?”
“Yes, but I’m far more curious than I am sensible.”
His laughter made goosebumps dance up and down my arms—a wild waltz that ignited a shiver-worthy of making my heart skip a beat. “I have an idea. I think we should have lunch.”
I blinked at him. “Have lunch,” I stated. “Whatever makes you think that’s a good idea?”
He waved his arm. “Close quarters. I think we should get to know each other a little better.”
“I think we’re plenty acquainted.”
“I disagree. So, I booked us a table for lunch.”
“I have plans.”
“You do. With me.” He stood, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “Get up, buttercup. Let’s go.”
And I did.
Because this was such a great idea.
***
“The manager isn’t currently available. If she has an issue with her room, find Lillie. That’s her job to deal with unless the ceiling has caved in.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“I can’t find her,” Jillian said in a hushed tone. “I’ve tried, but she’s not answering when I try to get her.”
Jesus. I needed something stronger than an ice Pepsi. “Jillian—you find out the issue, and if you can’t help, you get her a free coffee from the bar and run around until you’ve found Lillie. Or Susanna, if Lillie isn’t working. I’m at a business meeting with Mr. Creed, and really, this is basic customer service.”
“I know.” She pretty much whimpered it. “But she’s loud and scary.”
“So am I,” I replied. “If it isn’t resolved in fifteen minutes, call me again, and I’ll come back and sort it, but it won’t go down well.”
“Got it. Bye.” She hung up quicker than a bullet leaving a gun.
I shook my head and went back into the café. We hadn’t even had a chance to order yet, thanks to the frantic call from the not-so-new girl.
Knowing her, it was probably a broken coffee machine.
Why couldn’t I get the staff?
I slid back into my seat across from Jake and sighed. “Sorry about that.”
He held up a hand, coffee mug firmly in the other. “Don’t worry about it. I told her to come back for our order. Problems?”
I shook my head. “We hired some new people not long ago. Some are taking longer to fit in than the others…I don’t have a lot of patience.”
“No. I couldn’t tell.”
I picked up my Pepsi and glared at him.
He laughed, setting his coffee mug down. “What was it this time?”
“A minor room issue she apparently couldn’t deal with. I told her this was a business meeting and she needed to get on with it or I wouldn’t be happy. She ran.”
Another laugh.
Man, he laughed a lot.
I hated it.
No, I didn’t, but it was easier to say than the alternative.
“You can be scary when you put your foot down. Has anyone told you that?” He flattened his forearms on the table.
“Is this about the no-boob rule again?”
At that moment, the server returned.
Of course, she did.
“Uh,” she said, dark eyes flitting between us both, the embarrassment clear even in her dark cheeks. “Do I need to come back?”
“No,” Jake said before I could answer. “What do you recommend I have?” he asked me.
“Do you trust me?” I grinned.
“Absolutely not, so I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.”
***
Thirty minutes later, Jake held the chicken-nugget-lookalike between his finger and thumb. “Alligator,” he said. “This is an alligator?”
“Well, it’s not a whole alligator. Just a part of it.”
He glanced at it then back at me. “You know, I watched a lot of Peter Pan as a kid. I’m not sure I can eat the Tick-Tock Croc.”
“You won’t be. It’s an all-ih-gay-ter,” I emphasized. “Not a crocodile.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The alligator will see you later. The crocodile will see you in a while.”
Jake blinked at me. “Oh, well, shit. That cleared it up.”
I cough-laughed into my hand. “Don’t blame me. You walked right into that one.”
“I just don’t think I can eat alligator.”
I snatched a piece off the plate and popped it into my mouth. As I chewed, I stared at him like a little weirdo. When I was done, I held out my hands. “See? It’s good. I promise. It’s not slimy or chewy.”
He glanced at it. “It’s weird.”
I leaned forward. “Eat it before I choke you on it.”
He threw the piece into his mouth and chewed. His expression went from screwed up to relaxed, and he even raised his eyebrows right before his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Shit. Do I have to admit that you’re right now?”
Grinning, I sat back. “You do.”
“It was good.”
“Tastes like chicken, right?”
“What if chicken tastes like alligator, and I’ve been fooled my whole life?”
I held up a hand and pinched the bridge of my nose. “If I wanted deep thoughts, I’d google conspiracy theories. I just want to know if you liked it or not.”
“It tastes like chicken,” he admitted. “And—”
“No. Chicken does not taste like alligator.”
“How do you know?”
I held up my hand for the bill. We were most definitely done here. We’d both had a glass of wine while we’d discussed business before His Royal Handsomeness had decided he wanted to try alligator.
He’d faltered, obviously, but he’d tried it in the end.
With a little diva.
The bill was brought over by our server. Jake snatched the bill up before I could so much as twitch in its direction. I glared at him, but all he did was answer with a wide grin that made me want to blush.
He handed her his card, and she went to run it.
“I could argue, but instead, I’ll simply say thank you and move on,” I said.
“Damn, here I was thinking you’d yell at me. What a shame. Also, you’re welcome.”
I clutched my hand to my chest. “Me, yell for buying me lunch? I would have if you eating alligator hadn’t been so funny.”
“Still tastes like chicken.”
“Okay.” I picked up my purse from the floor and set it on my lap. “I have to get back. Are you going to follow me?”
“You could just wait, and we go together.”
“But then I’ll have to hear about the alligator, and I have work to do.” I pushed the chair back and stood up.
“Here you go, sir.” The server brought back his card at that exact moment.
“Thank you.” Jake took it and slid it into his wallet before joining me in standing. “There. Look at that. Now we can go together.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered, pulling my purse straps over my shoulder. “Let’s go. We’ve been gone long enough that there will be a lot of questions.”
“Why? Will something have happened?”
“No, the staff are just nosy.”
Jake pushed the door open and held it for me to walk through first. When I raised my eyebrow at him, he simply motioned for me to go with a sweep of his hand.
Look at that.
A rare gentleman in the wild.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
“You’re welcome.” He stepped out onto the sidewalk and guided me toward the crossing with his hand on the small of my back. “We need to talk a
bout the staff.”
“We do?” I jerked my head around to face him.
He nudged me onto the road to cross with a nod. “Yes. If like you say, there were recent hires who are less than competent, then something has to be done about it.”
That didn’t sound good.
“Done about it,” I echoed.
“I get the impression the previous owner didn’t really run the place very well.”
“Or at all.”
“Or at all,” he agreed. “I have a different view of owning the hotel. I plan to be very hands on without taking away from your job. From what I can see, you do your job perfectly.”
Oh, gee, that made me feel better about where this conversation was going.
“Mellie?”
I stopped and met his gaze right before we talked into the hotel. “We’re not having this conversation where we can be heard. End of.”
I walked inside without waiting for his response.
He’d have to do better than that to justify his thought process.
Chapter Nine
Upside #9: You can do what you want. You also have to do the things you don’t want to do—like provide your own orgasms.
Jake joined me in the office around ten minutes after I’d stormed off from him. Unfortunately for him, I was on the phone and returning a call, so he’d have to wait.
Ring, ring.
How could he make the decision to just fire people? He knew nothing about the people who worked here. And they weren’t all bad at their jobs, they were just…not wholly competent in all areas.
Neither was I. I only just managed the people side of my job.
Ring, ring.
Was it normal to just fire people when a new owner came in? The previous ones I’d known hadn’t. All right, so this was the only job I’d ever known, but still. Wasn’t that morally wrong?
These people had families and bills to pay.
He couldn’t fire them because he didn’t know them.
Ring, ring.
I held the phone to my ear with such harshness it almost hurt. Jake paced back and forth in front of the desk, hands in his pockets, head down, eyes on the floor. Was he thinking about the bluntness he’d just used? How unreasonable the idea seemed?