Jameson Hotel: The Complete Series Box Set (Parts 1-6)

by Aven Jayce

  “I know you’re depressed.” I shut his door, get in the driver’s side, start the truck, shift it into four-wheel drive, and back down the ramp to the edge of the lake. “Stay here while I get the boat on the trailer.”

  “No, I want to help.” He jumps out and walks toward the water.

  “Wait at the edge and I’ll walk it over.”

  He nods, standing with his hands in his pockets, kicking the fluffy snow with his dress shoes. That’s why he can’t get his footing—the kid’s dressed like a gangster today. I told him to change into old clothes for the trip and he refused. He said you’re supposed to dress your best for a funeral. A funeral. This is a disposal, not an observance. Dump and go. He even wore his suit into the septic tank to grab the body parts.

  I won’t complain too much though, he did mention he had a greater understanding of why I kill certain men and not others. That’s a step in the right direction.

  What lives are worth taking and why? He said the two men would have met the same demise if they had crossed his path under similar circumstances. That’s my boy. That’s who I want him to be—not a pussy or a wimp, and not a bully or a psychopath, just a man somewhere in-between. I want him to enjoy a good life, stay away from the cops, and take care of business when necessary.

  “I do like your suit,” I say, cranking the boat onto the trailer. “I don’t think you should refer to this as a funeral, but you look good when you dress in something besides baggy jeans and a black hoodie.”

  “It’s the emergence of my alter-ego. I’ve decided to dress like the owner of a fancy hotel, except when I go snowboarding, then I need to wear something that will get me laid.”

  I smirk. “I get laid plenty when I wear my suits.”

  “God, you never catch on to anything I’m trying to say. I could hold up a sign in front of your face that says, thank you, and you’d think it said fuck you.” He hops back into the truck and I attempt to drive up the ramp. The tires slip, forcing me to put it in reverse and repeat the climb for better traction. After three attempts we’re able to make it up the incline and out of the private launch area.

  “I’m trying to say thank you.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  He inhales a deep breath and looks at his cell, replying to a text before answering my question. “For one, you didn’t get upset that I cleaned the room.”

  “You did a fine job, almost as good as Jules and I would’ve done. I only need to replace the mattress, but the rest is flawless.”

  He looks out the window at the snowcapped mountains then turns his entire body to face me. “Thanks for being better than him. I didn’t know shit like that happened to people. I mean... I saw those papers and didn’t know... I’m dressed like this because I admire you today.”

  “Today?” I raise a brow and glance over to see him grinning.

  “Yep. Today. Maybe tomorrow too, we’ll see.”

  “Now that one I get. That’s funny.”

  “What are you gonna do with that stuff?”

  “The papers? Nothing. It’s from decades ago and I have no way of explaining how I came across it if I take it to the authorities. It’s just another family secret to add to the pile.”

  His cell buzzes and he sends out another text, mentioning it’s Emma and she wants to see him. “I’m not happy that I’m grounded like an eight-year-old, and I want my suite back before my cousins’ sticky fingers ruin my things, but it was cool that you let me do this. It was like take your son to work day, only not at the boring hotel—I got to tag along with you to your exciting job.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it.” I follow the snowy road into the mountains, heading back to my unexciting hotel. “Why don’t you like the Jameson?”

  He shrugs. “I guess because it’s like a prison. Everyone’s placed in a cell and they gather in the mess hall for a meal then go back to their cells. Sometimes they come out for an hour and walk around the yard to get some exercise, but they stay in their cliques. And like prison, they could get stabbed if they get out of line.”

  “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.” I notice the boat swerving in the rear-view mirror and slow the truck so we don’t slide into the ditch. Large, wet flakes start to cover my windshield and I’m glad we made it off the lake before this next wave of snow rolled in.

  “Jack, the note you left in the laundry cart this morning was immature, but besides that, I’m proud of you.”

  “Really? Cool. Does that mean I’m not grounded anymore?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck. Well, can I at least finish unpacking the rest of my stuff tonight? I promise to come back to your suite as soon as I’m done.”

  “Midnight,” I say.

  “Yes!” He holds a fist in the air and tightens his lips in excitement.

  “Don’t even think about inviting anyone over or you’ll be grounded for a year. And do me a favor. Change out of that suit. It smells like sewage.”

  “No problem.”

  I hit the button for my garage door and back the boat into one of the stalls, unlatch it, and park the truck. We head up the stairs and enter an empty suite. I nod that it’s okay for him to go ahead and unpack and he’s out the door in the blink of an eye.

  After a quick shower and a change into nicer clothing for our dinner, I set my blade and gun in place, fix my tie, place a dab of cologne on my wrists, and make my way downstairs to join the party. This is going to be another one of those awkward nights. Not only do I need to make a good impression with Jules’ friends, but I also have to apologize to Sam and keep my mouth shut, no matter how many times I’m poked with a stick.

  No confrontations. I’ll keep repeating that in my head.

  “Mark!”

  Oh, perfect. My woman’s showing cleavage and I can tell by her crooked walk and red face that she’s drunk. Wasted. Thank fuck. I might be able to get away with more than I originally thought.

  “You’re shit-faced,” I whisper, giving her a kiss on the cheek and taking her wine glass away before she spills it down the front of my suit jacket. I take a sip as I’m dragged over to the bar, nodding to her friend.

  “Angie, this is my fiancé, Mark.”

  She puts out her hand and we shake. “Wow. Gorgeous, like a model, just like Jules mentioned millions and zillions of times. You’re almost as handsome as my husband.”

  “You’re married? That’s a surprise. Jules never mentioned any of her friends had husbands.”

  “For three years. His name’s Marc, but he spells it with a ‘c’ not a ‘k’.” She points to my name on the bottom of the bar menu. “And he’s only twenty-five. What are you, like fifty?” Her cheeks match the color of her red hair; flush from the alcohol, and round like a chipmunk’s.

  “Sixty,” I respond.

  “Eeew.”

  “He’s only in his late thirties, don’t let his grey hair fool you.”

  “I don’t have any grey hair.” I take a quick look in the bar mirror and frown at their ribbing.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She regains composure and we clink wine glasses.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “This is it. My other friends only stopped in for a drink, they have family in town for the holidays and couldn’t stay for dinner. And Sophia and her kids are busy... don’t ask, it’s a secret.”

  “Another holiday surprise?”

  “Something like that. You ready? My parents are waiting for us in the restaurant.”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Angie stands and straightens her velvet brown dress, bringing a small gold clutch purse and her wine glass along. “What’s that about? Don’t you like the Barringers?”

  “My dad and Mark clash.” Jules speaks for me.

  “What? Your dad’s great. Remember years ago when he took us to see Lady Gaga and he wore a gas mask to the concert? It was amazing. He fit right in with our friends and the rest of
the crowd. We all thought your dad was the bomb.” Jules catches her as she tumbles in her heels.

  “Careful, girl.” She helps her friend get steady and they laugh.

  This is gonna work out beautifully. Thank fuck for alcohol. The two of them can act like fools and take the pressure off me to carry the conversation. Drunken women are always good for a laugh, unless they’re vomiting. It’s all fun and games when you’re wasted until someone starts puking up their guts.

  I hold the door open for the tall, attractive women to enter the restaurant, winking at mine as she heads inside.

  “My dad only wore that gas mask because he heard there’d be a lot of pot at the show. He wasn’t trying to be hip.”

  “Another reason not to like the guy,” I say under my breath. “You look pretty, by the way. New dress?”

  “Yes, black, your favorite. And heels.” She kicks up a foot. “New panties too.”

  “Don’t show me those just yet.” I raise a hand. “Surprise me later.”

  We walk to one of the private rooms overlooking the lake where a long table is glowing with silver and gold candles. The room has a fireplace and is complete with warm decor, hopefully soothing enough to keep us all tame.

  Unexpectedly, Sam rises when we reach the table, offering his hand before I have the chance.

  “Sorry about last night, Mark. No hard feelings, I hope.” He pats my arm and gives his daughter a kiss on the cheek, confiscating my role of champion. Damn him, I wanted to say that.

  “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m sure I came across as vulgar and egotistical. You’ll experience the real Mark this evening,” I declare, pulling a chair out for Jules before sitting across from her at the table. Angie’s by her side and her mother’s next to me, while I let Sam claim the head of the table next to his wife, leaving the end next to Jules and me empty.

  “I hope you’re enjoying your stay.” My fingers snap for the waiter at the door to enter. “Wine for everyone, bread, and bring me a dirty martini, wet, stirred, and on the rocks.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Sam interjects.

  “Oh, I want one,” Jules says.

  “Me too,” Angie agrees.

  “Wine is fine for me,” Karina remarks.

  “Four then,” I say. “Plus two bottles of wine, bread, and the special for everyone.” I think for a moment then call our waiter back. “Hold up. On second thought, I’ll have the special, but go ahead and tell everyone what’s on the menu tonight.” The waiter sounds off a long list of choices from the kitchen and after everyone orders, I feel a soft foot rubbing my pant leg in appreciation. Jules removed her heel. I lift my brow playfully and she nods that I did the right thing.

  “So, Mark.” Sam leans forward—he and his wife dressed attractively, like socialites wearing all black with a trace of turquoise jewelry.

  The table falls silent as everyone waits for a quarrel to begin. My head turns and I remain calm. No matter what he says, whatever it is, remember to keep your mouth shut.

  “You a gambling man?” he asks.

  “Betting isn’t my thing.”

  “You’re not a big risk taker?”

  Jules foot slides up my pants as I keep a relaxed state.

  “No.” I direct my words toward him while gazing directly into her eyes. She tilts her head friskily in awe that her touch is helping me chill out.

  “I think there’d be a significant risk to selling off all of your possessions in Vegas and starting over in this area, especially since you didn’t know anyone out in our neck of the woods. I’m not saying this didn’t work out for you, just looking around your place I can tell you’re a smart and successful businessman. It’s a splendid hotel.”

  “Is there a question coming?” I ask.

  “I’m sure there is,” Jules mumbles. She draws as close as she can to the table and reaches for my hand. “Everything is about me, just keep that in mind. It’s all about his daughter.”

  I nod.

  “That’s true,” he says. “I’m curious if you plan on doing it again.” He scans the room and property as the drinks and bread are set on the table. The table comes alive while everyone reaches for their glasses to stay occupied during our exchange. “You gonna sell and take off in the near future? And if so, is my daughter going with you or are you leaving her here?”

  “Oh, Dad,” she sighs.

  “It’s okay.” I put my hand out to let her know I can handle this, even though it’s a trick question. He wants to know if I’ll be moving his daughter away from him or if I plan on breaking her heart. Either way, I’m an ass, although with a guy like him, he’d prefer the latter—me taking off, Jules being crushed, and him getting his daughter back.

  “You’re taking an awfully long time to answer a simple question,” he says.

  “Honey, let them be tonight,” Karina insists.

  “This is a civil conversation and a simple question,” he replies.

  “He’s right,” I say. “And I have no plans on leaving the area. I’m extremely fond of my property and hotel.”

  “What if it starts to fail?” he asks.

  “Then I’ll build a casino. South Lake Tahoe could use another one.”

  “I don’t believe that’s wise.”

  “It’s only an example. What I’m saying is, I’ll make it work. There’s always a way if you’re levelheaded, intelligent, and have the correct resources. Plus, a little charm never hurt anyone.”

  “And you have all those things, correct?”

  “That’s exactly right. And a good woman by my side to tell me when I’m out of line.” Her foot’s back, this time rising higher. I catch it in my hand and smirk.

  “So you’re not going to sell and move?”

  “I haven’t even considered it.”

  He picks up his drink and gestures for the rest of us to follow. “Well then, cheers.”

  “Cheers.” We shadow him and drink.

  This could get interesting... and I’m not referring to Sam. I can tell he’s opting out of another head-on collision. Undoubtedly, he got a lecture from Karina and Jules about his behavior last night. There’s no way I’m the only one who was reprimanded.

  But what’s going on under the table... this sneaky foot of hers that keeps tiptoeing up my leg. That’s what I mean by interesting. It stops over my cock and wants inside my pants. I shake my head, but she refuses to abandon the idea of a little sexual play during dinner.

  “I wouldn’t want to leave either.” Karina distracts me with a warm smile. “Your hotel is reminiscent of the castles I used to read about as a child. I feel safe and perky inside these rooms.”

  “Mom, perky is a good word for breasts, not—”

  “Okay, then vibrant.” She stops Jules from finishing. “I feel sprightly and vibrant.”

  “Aren’t sprites like goblins or leprechauns?” Angie asks, making us all laugh. “Are you saying you’ve found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?”

  “Can I speak without my two favorite, but intoxicated women, correcting my choice of descriptors? And yes, in a way, that’s true. That is what I’m saying. The massive stone fireplaces, crackling and full of glowing embers, the pretty lights and soft holiday music in the background, the magnificent food and breathtaking views...” She turns to the landscape. “I’m waiting for a white horse to prance through the snow outside this window.”

  “And a blonde-haired prince to sweep you off your feet?” Sam laughs, but stops when the three women turn and gawk at me.

  I raise my glass and smile warmly. “Cheers, Sam.”

  “Shit, I set myself up for that one,” he mutters. His wife takes his hand as two of my waiters arrive with our food. They set the steaming plates of winter beef stew, pork loin with sweet potato, and tortellini stuffed eggplant before us, leaving a cranberry and goat cheese dinner salad beside each of our plates. I was only partly wrong—three of us did want the special.


  “And the most significant thing I’ve noticed,” Karina continues, “is my daughter’s radiant face. She’s in love. Julia’s never looked so joyful, and that makes the two of us incredibly happy. Isn’t that right, honey?” She turns to her husband.

  “I suppose.” He gives in, blowing on a spoon full of stew to cool his first taste. He nods in delight after taking a bite and wipes his mouth with a napkin before pulling his wife nearer for a private discussion. I take the opportunity to lean in and tell Jules to knock it off. The last thing I need is to walk out of here with an erection. I’m not wearing the same jacket I had on last night and this shorter length isn’t going to cover a bulge.

  “You’re behaving,” she says quietly. “You deserve a treat.” She pulls back and whispers something to Angie, who nods like she’s agreeing to a mischievous plan. The two speak to Jules’ parents—the classic; remember when conversation that people can never get enough of—a walk down memory lane that keeps everyone occupied and in good spirits, and a ploy to distract them from what’s up-and-coming under the opposite end of the table.

  The sensation of her toes wandering around my shaft makes me blush. She’s frisky, rubbing her instep over my dick until it swells.

  “That’s good,” I declare, and she joins me in a celebratory drink.

  I pull the tablecloth over my lap, lean forward, and pray to God no one hears the sound of my zipper. I can’t believe I’m doing this... but that’s just it... I’ve never done this. I’ve never experienced any type of foot play over an evening meal.

  I’m fucking game. Bring it.

  The toes walk up my leg and ecstatically discover my bare skin, wiggling in delight.

  Freakin’ A, it feels better than... no... oh fuck, she wouldn’t. She can’t. She is!

  My eyes are the size of her tits as she discreetly, with a guiltless snicker, smears butter over her fingers. Her hand disappears under the table and I inhale a deep breath when the feeling of slick toes slide over my cock. Oh, dear fuck. She wins. Damn, she really wins this time. The outcome of this is going to drive everyone screaming from the table. Hell, I can just imagine my cum shooting out and landing on her friend’s leg.