by Katie Fox
My hand tightened into a fist. “This is unacceptable. How does a five-star hotel—”
“Owen. It’s fine.” Elle spoke louder this time and tugged harder on my jacket sleeve, forcing me to look at her. “Let’s just…we’re here, okay? If you’re okay with it, we can share the room. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
I shook my head, irritation evident in my tone. “Jesus Christ, Elle, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor because some asshole failed to do their job correctly. These rooms were booked weeks ago. This should never have happened.” Exhaling loudly and my nostrils flaring, I bowed my head and pinched the bridge of my nose, the rearing of an ugly headache beginning to pulse in my temples.
Fuck. I didn't need this right now.
Ignoring me, Elle turned to look at the hotel receptionist. “Can you provide additional pillows and blankets?”
He nodded quickly. “Yes, of course, ma’am. We also have cots available. I can make sure the extra pillows and linens and cot are sent up immediately. Anything you need—”
“We need two goddamn rooms is what we need!” My fist slammed down against the granite countertop, and my voice came out as a deafening roar, grabbing the eyes of everyone around us. My chest rose and fell sharply, and guilt stabbed through me as I watched Elle’s entire body wince in what I assumed was embarrassment.
She licked her lips and smiled apologetically, first at the hotel receptionist, who had taken a step back from my outburst, and then at everyone staring at us before once again returning to her initial conversation. “That would be great. Please send them up as soon as you can. Thank you.”
“Of course. Right away, ma'am.” The man behind the check-in desk moved back over to his computer, quickly registering us into the system and sliding us two key cards for one shared room. “Your room is on floor eight and is number eight-oh-five. If there is anything at all we can do for you during your stay, please don't hesitate to let us know.”
Despite what this meant, despite the fact that we would be sharing a room together for the entire weekend, a plan that was not in the slightest ideal, for many reasons, Elle turned to face me. “It’s fine. No big deal. I don't have to sleep on the floor. I'll sleep on the cot.” She tried to give me what looked like a reassuring smile as she handed me one of the key cards, but my hardened expression remained. “Come on, Owen. Let's make the best of it, okay? It's only for the weekend, and I promise I don't snore.”
Winking at me as I freed one of the cards from her hand, she patted me on the chest and brushed past me, heading in the direction of the elevators.
I turned my head, watching the sway of her hips and the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of her jeans, the two small indents that rested above her ass at the base of her spine, and groaned inwardly.
Snoring was the least of my worries.
Riding the elevator quietly to the eighth floor, we navigated the hallways until we found our room. Stopping in front of the door, Elle slid her key card into the lock until we heard a tiny click and the light flashed green. She pushed the door open.
The room was large, as would be expected for an upscale hotel, and I got the impression Elle had never seen anything like it. She walked in, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly parted as she drank in the soft, plush carpet and the thick burgundy drapes covering the floor-to-ceiling windows. A small round table with two fine-leather chairs sat in one corner of the room, and the large king-sized bed, with oversized pillows and high thread count linens, sat in the center. To our immediate left was a huge bathroom, featuring a walk-in shower and separate jacuzzi tub, but the true focal point of the entire room was the large balcony which provided a spectacular view of downtown L.A. It drew her attention and her feet in its direction, her breath coming on a gasp as she soaked up its beauty.
“Wow. This is…” She slid open the glass balcony door and stepped out, the smile on her face warming the coldest parts of me. “This is amazing, Owen.”
I set my suitcase at the foot of the bed and walked the same path she’d taken, joining her outside. I didn’t like flying, but heights in general didn’t bother me, and of all the rooms we could have been assigned, I was glad it was this one.
Standing beside her, I dipped my chin at the same time she tilted her head to the side. Our eyes met, hers glimmering like shiny blue jewels under the warm afternoon sunshine. “Yeah…yeah, it is.”
I wanted to tell her that she made up the most mesmerizing part of the view, but I held my tongue. I watched as she took a couple steps forward and rested her hands on the stucco wall, peering over the side. After a moment, she closed her eyes, allowing her head to fall between her shoulders and her chest to rise on a deep inhale, as if she was taking it all in. Every trip I’d ever made to L.A. had been business related, and while we were here for that sole purpose, she already made it seem far less stressful. There was an air of peace and calm that surrounded this woman, which was odd because most days she was a walking disaster, but I quickly realized that going too long without it, without her beside me, had a negative effect on my mood.
I was happier when she was with me.
Much happier.
Keeping my thoughts to myself, I stood beside her, slightly envious she was falling in love with the place for the first time, or at least I assumed she was. “I take it you’ve never been to L.A. before?”
“No.” Elle laughed like the words leaving my mouth were borderline crazy. “This is my first time ever leaving the East Coast. I’m not much of a traveler. My journeys usually include direct flights from New York to Maine with an occasional connection in Rhode Island or Massachusetts.” She turned around and pressed her back against the balcony wall, folding her arms over her stomach. “I’m pretty well acquainted with their airports, though. So, if we ever travel through them, I’ll be sure to give you the twenty-five-cent tour.”
“Twenty-five-cent tour?” I lifted a brow. “Is that better than the ten-cent tour?”
Elle’s mouth kicked up in one corner. “Maybe.”
A smile of my own followed, and I gazed out at the skyline before turning back to look at her. “It’s a bit different from New York, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She nodded gently, her lips pressing together the way they did whenever she was deep in thought. “You know, in New York there is always this sense of urgency. Everyone is in a hurry all the time. The only thing on their mind is getting to exactly where they need to be, and here…everyone, the atmosphere...it’s all so laid-back and relaxed. I mean, the traffic is still absolutely horrendous, but it’s almost as if failing to get to that interview on time isn’t the end of the world. Your life isn't dictated by the career title you hold or whether or not you’ll land that next contract or business deal. It’s nice. It makes you stand back and realize that maybe sometimes we need to stop and appreciate everything we have. Appreciate that we're alive and that we are here to experience it.”
Her words were loaded and, like many times before, hit me like a bullet straight to the chest, leaving me speechless. Our last unaccounted minutes of easy rapport dissipated like a quickly evaporating steam cloud, and we stood awkwardly, my hands in my pockets and her eyes on the ground. Eventually Elle laughed, breaking through the silence, but this time the beautiful sound seemed full of nervousness.
“Ha. You know what? Don’t listen to me. I’m so full of shit the toilet’s jealous.” The sun moved higher in the sky, and she squinted against its brightness, giving me a sideways glance as I attempted to hold in a laugh and failed. She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “I mean, what do I know? I’m just an outsider looking in, right?”
I didn’t reply to that, not because she wasn’t right but because her opinions about L.A. and New York didn’t matter. It was everything else that came out of her mouth that did. What she’d said was true. So true. “Maine, huh? Is that home?”
“No. New York is home. Maine is a place I grew up and tend to visit from time to time.”
&nb
sp; “I imagine it must be really different.”
She nodded before twisting around and resting her arms back on the wall. “It is. I love it there, don’t get me wrong, but even when it was home, it never felt like home. If that makes sense.”
“It does, but why New York?”
“Well, because usually it’s L.A. or New York where dreams come true, isn’t it? New York just so happened to be closer.” We both smiled. “What about you? Has New York always been your home?”
“Born and raised. Couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“Huh. That’s why you’re so good at driving around the city.” She cast me a small smirk and continued. “Your parents, they still live there?”
I blew a breath out through pursed lips and nodded, the conversation heading in a direction I wasn't sure I wanted to visit. “Yeah, they do. My father, he, uh, he’s retired and spends most of his time locked in his library and reading, and my mom, well…I'm not really sure what she’s up to these days.”
“Do you not see them often?”
“Not really, no.” A painful sadness swept in, crushing my heart as I said the words, and I swallowed the lump of emotion lodged in my throat, my gaze focused on a building in the distance. “I made a decision three months ago to cut them off. It wasn’t an easy one to make, and every day I wonder if it was the right thing to do, but then I remember why I decided to do it in the first place and know it’s for the best.”
Elle remained quiet, and I wished she hadn’t because I was beginning to think I’d said too much, shared too much. Why I had even shared this bit of information with her was beyond me, but that was the thing with Elle. I found myself wanting to share parts of my life with her that I never shared with anyone else. I was opening up to her when I should have been closing her off like I’d done with the people closest to me.
I emitted a nervous laugh. “Wow. Way to ruin the mood, Owen.”
Wrapping her fingers around my arm, Elle turned me toward her. “Owen. Don’t—”
I stopped her, figuring there had been enough unnecessary telling for the time being. “Hey, listen. I have a meeting in about an hour, and it’s probably going to last a good portion of the day, so today is yours to do with as you please. The hotel has a pool, feel free to check that out, and if you’re hungry, there is a restaurant downstairs or you can order room service. Whichever you decide, have them add it to the room charge, okay?”
She pressed her lips together, and I didn't miss the disappointment that flashed across her expression. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight, then.”
Finding it difficult to walk away from her, I stood for a few more moments. What I wouldn’t give to be able to spend the day with her and not have to think or worry about work, but therein lay the problem. Work was my life. It had always been my life.
Giving her a militant nod, I took a few steps back, drinking in every ounce of her beauty and permanently embedding it into my memory before turning and walking out of the room, my hands in my pockets and my head bowed.
Fuck my goddamn life.
DECIDING I’D TAKE Owen up on his suggestion, I slipped into my bathing suit and ventured down to the hotel pool. The smell of chlorine was thick in the air as I walked through the set of double glass doors, my flip-flops slapping against the soles of my feet and the stone tile as I made my way toward an available lounger. I set my towel down and removed my yellow sundress, folding it neatly and placing it on the small wicker table beside the chair, before grabbing my phone and sending Drew another text. We had been going back and forth for the last hour, exchanging updates about the men in our lives. He had recently started seeing someone older—much older, twenty years older to be exact—but he was happy, and besides, who was I to judge? I was secretly crushing on my boss, dreaming of all the different ways we could utilize his desk that didn’t pertain to business.
It was becoming a problem.
A real problem.
Telling Drew I’d catch him later, I set my phone down and gathered my hair from my shoulders, tying it back in a high ponytail on the top of my head. My eyes flashed to the pool—to the crystal-clear water and the few people wading without care, causing a ripple of soft waves to form on its surface—and a sudden onset of insecurity bubbled in my stomach.
Dressed in designer swimsuits and their skin perfectly bronzed, the gorgeous women reminded me how well the other half lived. I allowed my eyes to linger, wondering what it must be like to be them, money not being any concern. The wage I earned at Caldwell Publishing paid my bills, and it allowed me to send extra money to my parents, who were still months behind in everything, but I’d have been lying if I’d said I didn’t want for more.
I was a dreamer—always had been—I was just afraid of losing what that dream might cost to achieve.
Swallowing what was turning into a mini anxiety attack, I adjusted the strings on my department store bikini, making sure there were no parts of my body showing that shouldn’t be.
“The water looks inviting, doesn’t it?”
My head shot up at the deep, unfamiliar voice, and I nearly jumped right out of my skin, my eyes widening at his unexpected closeness.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.” The stranger held his hand out, a charming smile on his face, revealing a dimple at the corner of his mouth. “Liam Nickelson.”
I placed my hand in his, noticing the way mine looked so dainty in the center of his huge palm. “Elle—” I cleared my throat, pulling myself together so I didn't look like a total lunatic. “Elle Callihan.”
“Nice to meet you, Elle.” He set his towel on the lounger beside mine before reaching behind his head and grabbing at the collar of his shirt, dragging it over his strong shoulders and freeing it completely from his upper body.
My eyes immediately went there, the toned muscle and ripped abs that resembled the guys on the surfer magazines I’d spent far too long ogling in the refreshment shop near the lobby, and I mentally adjusted myself, snapping my jaw shut and my eyes back to his.
Blue.
His eyes were blue. And his hair was brown with dusted tips of blond. He had to be a California native; I was sure of it.
“Seeing as you're here at the hotel, I think it's safe to assume you're not from around here. What brings you to L.A.?”
I licked my lips, wondering how much information I wanted to share with this man. “I'm here on business. There is a publishing convention this weekend and—”
“Really? You're here for the convention? Which firm are you with?”
“Caldwell.”
“Caldwell?” His brows narrowed. “No shit.” He placed his hands on his hips, studying me. “Wait a minute.” His mouth twitched into a smile as realization, or what appeared to be realization, dawned. “Elle Callihan. You’re Owen’s Elle.”
Owen’s Elle.
My heart skipped a beat at those two words, my mind not even processing the fact that he suddenly knew who I was and who I was here with. I forced myself out of dreamland. “You know Owen?”
He laughed, not in a condescending way but in a way that said he was surprised I didn't know who he was. “Yeah. I guess you can say that. He’s my boss. I’m the lead marketing director for the L.A. office. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Elle. Owen’s told us all so much about you.”
Lead marketing direc—
Holy. Shit.
If my skin wasn't a walking advertisement for sunscreen, I was sure every inch of my flesh would've turned pale white. I lifted my chin, shock dancing across my face in every possible form. “You are? He…he has?”
Jesus, Elle. Now you sound like a bumbling idiot. This is one of the men you are supposed to be presenting to tomorrow evening, and you can’t even manage to string full sentences together.
Combing a hand through his hair, the muscles in his biceps flexing with the movement, he nodded. “Yeah. We’re looking forward to your presentation and hearing your thoughts. Owen spoke pretty highly of you. He always do
es.”
Oh God.
I was going to be sick. He needed to stop. I didn’t want to know what kind of expectations any of them had, especially not Owen. Definitely not Owen. “I, um…” I reached down, grabbing my sundress from where it sat neatly folded on the table and slipped it over my head. I needed to leave before I said something wrong or made myself look like an incompetent ass. “I’ve just remembered I have something I need to do.” I picked up my phone, holding it tightly between my fingers as I held out my free hand for him to shake for a second time. “It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Nickelson.”
“Liam. Please.”
“Liam.” Smiling politely and lifting my hand in a small wave, I started past his half-naked frame, my head turning over my shoulder to catch one last glance. “Guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”
“Absolutely. Looking forward to it.”
Flashing him another smile, I turned around and quickly hurried in the direction of the double doors, pushing through them and navigating myself around the hallways until I reached the elevators that took me to the eighth floor.
When I made it back to our room, I changed out of my bathing suit and into a pair of jeans and a tank top before grabbing the menu for room service. My food arrived a short time later, and as I sat at the table eating, my notebook and pen beside me, my thoughts drifted to Owen and the words Millie had said to me nearly seven weeks ago. Owen’s and my conversation on the balcony that morning had only reinforced the fact that maybe she was right: maybe he was in need of a friend.
Picking up my phone, I typed a quick message, my thumb hovering over the send button and my bottom lip caught between my teeth. I rolled my eyes, convincing myself to press the damn button. He was in a meeting. Chances were, he wasn’t going to respond anyway.
I hope your meeting is going okay.
Much to my surprise, the three little dots appeared before I even re-locked my screen, and I waited with an anxiousness in my stomach.