by K. L. Jessop
“Fuck my life,” I groan, slapping my hand over my face. “I really need to control my shit if I want to live past thirty.”
Jack laughs. “But then you’ll be boring. Go drag that pretty ass of yours out of bed, and get a nice runny egg. It’ll make you feel loads better.”
Ugh!
The thought of that makes me want to heave.
“I have an intolerance.”
“Only when it suits you.”
Twisting my hair up into a messy bun, I brush my teeth before splashing my face with cool water. The instant droning of the water system is another reminder that I need to get my plumbing checked again. It’s been cranky for weeks. I’m a tenant in my uncle’s property, and he likes to think that being family I’ll be fine with things done on the cheap, but I’m not, because unfortunately, it comes with a lot of disadvantages.
I exit the bathroom at the sound of my front door closing and see Amelia bouncing into my house like a new spring lamb, scattering Wedding Magazines across the table.
Oh, Jesus. Not today!
“Afternoon!” she beams, giving me a once over before getting out her note pad and pen.
“Is it?”
We use to have keys to each other’s homes so we could come and go when we pleased, only that stopped after I walked in on her and Marcus at it like rabbits in the kitchen. I tell you, for a woman who went years without so much as looking at a man, she’s sure as hell making up for it now.
“Megan, do you think it’s too early?”
Yes. Way too fucking early! “For what?” I question, knowing exactly what she’s referring to and what conversation we’re about to go into. Amelia’s middle name is anxiety, if something new develops in her life, she can’t help but panic and freak out.
“For getting married to Marcus. Do you think I’m jumping in too soon? Do you think we should wait?”
You see what I mean? I sigh and sit myself beside her, opening the chocolate biscuits I just got from the cupboard as my stomach growls. “Do you love him?”
“More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Her blue eyes go all dreamy like they always do when she thinks of him.
“And do you want to spend the rest of your life with him?”
“Of course.”
“Can you see yourself waiting a few more years before getting married?”
“Not really.” She grins.
I roll my eyes. “Open the goddamn magazines.”
We flick though the pages she’s earmarked that detail the dresses she likes, discussing what colours she wants for the bridesmaids, even though it’s the third time she’s changed her mind. I love seeing her like this: free and happy, in love with a man that will do anything to protect her. Out of everyone that I have in my life, Amelia deserves it more than all of them after the shit her asshole ex put her through. We’ve reached some dark places overtime, but Marcus has been the one that’s put her back together and made her realise that there is a life worth fighting for.
“So, did you get lucky?” Amelia asks from the table behind me as I prepare us both a coffee.
“What?”
“You’re still wearing the same dress you wore out. Does that mean you’re back to doing the walk of shame?” There’s a smile behind her words, but for the first time in all the time we’ve known each other, her words sting a little. I look down at my short red dress that hugs my body and my instant thought is Andrew. I’m used to having comments about my behaviour thrown at me, but what he said to me last week was disrespectful and hurt me more than I’d like to admit.
“No. Jack brought me home last night.” I hand her, a coffee and sit back down, taking another biscuit.
“You stayed until closing? No wonder you look dead.”
“Love you too,” I say with a mouthful.
Amelia thinks the sun shines out of Andrew’s backside and for a short period there was a time where him and I were civil. Then it changed. Now I’m just hated while I fight for him to notice me for all the right reasons, not all the wrong ones.
“So how was last night after I left? Did I miss much?” Amelia questions.
“Other than me making a complete arse of myself? No, it was just a regular night.”
“A regular night normally means you leaving with a man on your arm that isn’t Jack. Still not getting any?”
I throw her a look and she smirks.
“How long has it been now anyway?”
I'm unsure if she's generally concerned or amused.
“I gave up counting because marking my none sex days on the calendar was giving me hives.”
She bursts into uncontrollable laughter. I raise my brows trying to hold back a grin. “Laugh all you like, princess, but you’d feel my pain if Marcus deprived you of sex for a number of weeks. I’ve never used my vibrator so much. I swear to God it cries when I open the damn drawer.”
“Oh, my God,” she giggles. “I think you need help.”
“Clearly I do because I’m convinced my vagina is dying.”
She laughs again as her phone alerts her that she has received a text, and I roll my eyes, leaving my seat as the grin on her face is a dead giveaway as to who it is.
“I’m sorry, babe, I’ve got to go. Marcus needs my help with something.”
“Tell him to smack it down,” I tease. “Too much sex can cause him to go blind.”
“You almost sound jealous.”
She kisses me on the head and looks at me, her grin a mile wide with amusement pasted across her face.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I say.
“Yes I am. Makes a change, the boot being on the other foot. Who’d have thought you’d lose your libido before your late twenties?”
“Get the hell out of my house,” I giggle.
***
I apply lip gloss, give myself the once over in the mirror and head out of the door. My new dress I bought online gives me that sophisticated feeling, where you know you look sexy, while my sunglasses cover my eyes from the early morning sun.
The smell of the ocean and the golden sand that sparkles against the light, glows my insides. I love this place. The new season of holidaymakers are due to invade upon us, and the atmosphere is changing with that excitement that’s been lying dormant throughout the winter.
Felicity sits at our reception desk, leaning back in her chair with the phone to her ear as I enter the hotel. Her chocolate hair is up in some fancy looking beehive style and her soft pink dress is showing off the olive skin of her neck and arms.
Placing my bag in the cabinet of our small cloakroom, I exit and come face to face with Andrew and Marcus on the other side of the desk, overlooking paperwork. I try my hardest to avoid my stare but fail when I latch on to Andrew. He looks relaxed, confident. He’s wearing his slick navy suit today. He’s going to a meeting—he only wears that when something important is happening, and the immaculate white shirt is another sign of importance. I should be still pissed with him after the way he spoke to me, especially with not having any form of apology, but the flutters in my stomach with his presence say otherwise. But as his eyes find mine, his expression changes, making it evident he is still in a mood.
“Miss Simmons, you’re late,” he barks, causing Marcus to lift his head up.
I cross my arms in defence. “I’m five minutes early actually.”
“Not by my watch.”
“I’m not going by your watch; I’m going by my own,” I reply sarcastically.
“Don’t be smart!”
“I’m not being anything, Andrew I—”
“Alright children,” Marcus interjects as Andrew holds my stare—a stare he really needs to back down with or else I’m likely to climb across the marble desk and kiss the shit out of him.
No matter how deep under my skin Andrew gets, I still have those desires for him. I want to kiss him with every breath I have left inside of me, lay under the stars and talk until dawn and laugh to the point we forget what we’re laughing at.
That’s if it’s even possible for him to laugh. The man is full of mystery.
“I’m going to a meeting, try not to insult any guests with that mouth of yours while I’m gone.”
I turn to Marcus once he leaves and blurt out my frustration. “Jesus, why is he always such an arsehole?”
“Never mind him. Meet me in my office in ten minutes. I need a word.” The deep tone in his voice puts me on alert. Marcus only ever uses his voice of command when in business or if he’s pissed about something, I can only assume it’s the latter.
I head up to the hotel floor that is home to the three members at the top of this establishment Marcus, Andrew and Amelia. The long corridor of light walls and new mink carpet fills my lungs with fresh paint from the contract decorators that are here.
Marcus’s door is shut once I reach it and I wait on his response before heading in. As I approach his desk, I try and find something to focus on to ease the nerves that unexpectedly fill my stomach on my arrival.
Sitting opposite me, he moves his hazel eyes to finally find mine before the smile on his face falls. “Megan, why do you look so worried?”
“Is this about earlier with Andrew, because I—”
He shakes his head. “This has nothing to do with him. This is about something far greater than that.”
I sigh in relief, but the seriousness on his face has my mind overreacting. “Oh God, is it Amelia? Has anything happened?”
“What?” He can clearly see the panic in my face. “Why would you think that?”
“Marcus, I love you dearly but sometimes you have this serious alpha male thing going on and it shit’s me up a little bit. I just worry.”
He laughs and leans forward, the sun highlighting his light brown hair. “I’m sorry, Megan, Amelia’s fine, relax. I called you here because I have got a proposition for you.”
My shoulders lower and I instantly become intrigued. “Proposition? Sounds interesting.”
“How do you fancy a promotion?” The look in his eye is enough for me to sit up straighter and put every ounce of my attention to his words.
“Go on.”
“Ideally, I would have done this via interviews, but I feel you’re the right candidate and I’ve made my mind up anyway.”
“About?”
“I’m wanting to bring something new to The Grand and link Rubies in with it. The functions we have here are mostly organised by the staff that work on that specific day. Amelia was only headhunted for the Lenton wedding last summer because of the fact Nadia was well known in the celebrity population.”
“Not to mention high-maintenance,” I add.
“I want something more permanent. An organisation that will get great results and more functions for both here and Rubies. Rubies is great for a few beers on a weekend but there is so much potential for making it better, and with an extension it would be just as vast.”
“Is this because of the new club that’s being built down town?” A new club is in the process of opening and it has not yet been disclosed what sort of club it is. I need to do some digging.
“Not essentially, but it will have an added impact. Amelia mentioned last summer about an entertainments package that would work for both this place and Rubies. After numerous discussions and a lot of thought, I’ve decided to try it out.”
Marcus is very diverse when it comes to business. Being a property and development Director provided him nearly every opportunity to get his foot through the door in most areas, but I don’t understand how I can offer my services when I’m just a reception girl that direct guests to their rooms. “So where do I come in?”
“I want you to manage it.”
“What?” My eyes go wide as excitement takes over.
“I want you as my new entertainments manager.”
“Don’t shit with me.”
“I’m not.” He laughs. “You’re good with people, know how to create and have fun, and because of this, I know you’ll put good use of that in your work.”
Oh. My. God!
I’m speechless. “You’re promoting me from a reception girl to a manager? Just like that? No crash courses or work trials?”
“You’ll have some guide lines to follow in what I’m after in the programme, but you’re very knowledgeable and working alongside the higher end of the team, I know you’ll bring what’s required to the table. You’re a hard worker, Megan, I like that in people,” he says mirroring my grin. “So, what do you say?”
My instant enthusiasm quickly dampens when I think of who I’ll be working alongside. “What does Andrew think about this?”
“He thinks it’s a great idea,” he grins.
He’s totally talking out of his ass.
“You haven’t told him, have you?”
“No. But I’ve got your back. Besides it’s good for the business. What do you say?”
“Would I have to leave this place?”
“Of course not, you can keep this place as your main work base, but you’ll be down at Rubies from time to time too.”
“Do I get my own office?” I can feel my grin getting wider.
“Eventually, yes.”
“Well in that case, when do I start?” I squeal before leaning over the desk to smack a kiss on his forehead as a thank you. I’m so excited. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas. Has anyone ever told you you’re the best guy in the world?”
“Amelia tells me every night.” He winks.
“Oh, I bet she does.”
Chapter Four
Andrew
“Absolutely. No. Fucking. Way,” I bark, pacing the floor of Marcus’s office. “It’s bad enough you gave her the damn job to begin with, let alone get her to take root in my office.”
I’m losing my patience at a fast rate. It’s not often I lose it with Marcus, but right now I’ll happily smack him in the fucking jaw. The last thing I expected to see when I walked into my office this morning was a Megan Simmons name plate in the centre of my spare desk.
“Give the woman a break, she’s not that bad,” he says showing no signs of changing his mind.
“Why is she in my office anyway?”
“Because her new one is being cleared out and decorated and she is eager to start.”
I turn away from him to look out the window, tightness glazing across my chest. I can’t have her in my office. She’s too distracting. Too irritating. Too goddamn beautiful.
“It’s only short term, Andrew.”
“Then get her to share with Amelia!”
“That's not practical,” Marcus states.
I turn back towards him, dissatisfied he hasn’t thought this idea through—thought it through enough to see that it will be in everyone’s best interest if she’s not in my office. “They're best friends why the hell not?”
“Because I have a habit of walking into my fiancées office and stripping her free from her underwear.”
I grip my hands on the back of his vacant seat and lower my head between my shoulders in disbelief, trying to control the urge to throw something at the smug git. I know exactly what he’s doing, but it’s not going to work. It’s not the fact I’m not willing to share my work space for the period in which it’s required, it’s whom I must share it with. Being a reception girl means she is out of my way and I only encountered her when entering or leaving the building. At least on the outside of the hotel I can control when I see her, now I’m going to have no fucking choice. And no matter how hard I try to prevent it, the woman gets under my skin for all the wrong reason, and Marcus loves that.
“I can’t believe you’ve gone behind my back and done this,” I growl.
The sound of files hitting the desk causes me to look up. “What is your problem, Andrew? She’s our friend for Christ sake.”
“No, she’s your and Amelia’s friend.” I jab my finger at him. “She’s nothing to me.”
“Not so long go you were kissing the shit out of her and forgot that everyone else was in the room watching. You
telling me she meant nothing then?”
“It was one of her ludicrous drinking games and a serious lack of judgment on my part.”
“Bullshit!” he snaps. “I’m not an idiot, I know what I saw and I know exactly what this is all about—”
“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. This has nothing to do with my past.” I shot back.
“Hasn’t it?”
“No.”
“Then where’s the issue?”
The issue is me. I can't even look at her without wanting to touch her and he’s only gone and made it worse, only I’m unsure who I’m most mad at: him, myself or her.
The tightness in my chest is still strong, but I relax my shoulders as best I can, knowing that no matter how much we argue I’ve lost the battle. Megan seems to have this way of wrapping everyone around her finger and Marcus is just another one of her victims.
Exhaling, I lower my voice in defeat. “Last time I looked, I was the manager of this place and the person that made the final decisions.” I imply.
“You do. But on this occasion, you've been overruled, and given the fact I own this building and the business that pays your fucking wage, I’ve got every right.”
I can do nothing but hold his stare. Marcus is as stubborn as I am at times, but I look to him as a brother as he knows more about my shitty life than anyone, and even though I hate him right now for overruling me, I have to respect his decision.
“She's got the job, Andrew. She’s part of our team, which means you work with her not against her. So, I suggest you get your head out of your ass and deal with it.”
***
She hasn’t even been in my office a day and she’s already messing with my head. I never leave the hotel when I’m there. I enter at six in the morning and often don’t leave until midnight, so why the fuck I’m currently sat on the beach at noon with a beer in my hand is beyond me. I don’t like the feeling she creates when she’s around me—a feeling I can only assume girls call butterflies, and a feeling that never seems to subside when she is near.
I can’t take my eyes off of her when she’s around. The way her slim body moulds into those short clothes leaves little to the imagination. She is consumed by every eye of the male sex that walks the hotel or the club floor and the way she gets everyone up on their feet on the dance floor is intriguing. She’s full of fire and spirit, and all I want to do is stamp it out and bring her down in the hope it’ll wipe out the feeling that’s slowly kindling inside me.