Cherie’s words have the desired effect. Glancing from person to person, Gabby calms down. “I know.” She looks directly at my girl. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”
Cherie smiles. “We’ll work on it. When can you come home?”
“You’re going to be living at Gabriela’s, after all?” Jesse asks Cherie.
“After all?” Gabby looks at Cherie. “You didn’t want to live with me anymore?”
“I didn’t think it was appropriate given what happened.”
“But you changed your mind back?” Gabby asks with a hopeful tone.
“I have.” Cherie’s lips curve up slightly. She darts a glance at Aunt Rebecca, then back to Gabby. “I want to be your roommate, if your offer still stands, that is.”
“Yes! I love being your roommate,” Gabby says.
The girls talk about the living arrangements at the condo. My cousin will keep the master bedroom until she returns to CU-Boulder in the fall. Cherie can have it, then, perhaps find roommates for the other two rooms.
That’s not going to happen. By fall, at the latest, Cherie will be back in my master bedroom.
We visit with Gabby a bit longer. When my cousin starts yawning, we leave. From the hospital, we drive Cherie’s car back to the condo, this time with Jesse in tow.
I close the car door. We walk through the main entrance. “You can start work tomorrow, Cherie. You know, since you’re back. I thought you’d enjoy sitting in on the film festival meeting as I suggested.”
“May as well.” She shrugs.
On our landing, I turn to the right, my girl and Jesse to the left. Cherie inserts the key, opens Gabby’s door.
“Why don’t you two come over for lunch?” I open my door. “Gabby rarely has a stocked fridge.”
“Naw, man, thanks. All I need are a shower and some sleep,” Jesse says, turns to Cherie. “You go, baby.”
My temper sparks with no warning. “Stop calling her baby.”
Smirking, Jesse puts an arm around Cherie’s shoulders. “Bug you, does it?”
“It bugs her.” I glance at Cherie.
With a heavy, exaggerated sigh, she rolls her eyes at me. I raise an eyebrow in challenge.
If he gets to call you baby, I’m calling you sweetness.
Finally, she peers up at Jesse. “It does a little. Plus, you should save that endearment for Gabs. Dontcha think?”
“Whatever you say, baby.” Jesse kisses her cheek, goes inside.
Fucking punk tests my patience.
“Lunch?” I ask my girl. “We can talk more about where you want to start at The Av. Didn’t you say the desk?”
Come on, sweetness. I missed you so much. Spend more time with me.
She nods. “Yeah. On swings. What do you think?”
I push my door open wide, motion for her to go in. “Let’s discuss it.”
“Victor.” She warns.
I hold up my hands. “Totally platonic lunch.” I mean it — surely I can keep my hands to myself for an hour or two?
Inside, we make a chopped salad together. I listen to her logic for doing swings first. “Well, I’ll learn check-in and the processes thereof. Meet the bellhops, process convention arrivals, too. The later hours of the shift will allow me to learn the rest of The Av’s nightly operations — computer, room prep.”
I nod. “Sounds reasonable.”
“And I could tour empty rooms and suites, explore the property, when it’s slow.”
“How long do you want to be on swings?” I usher her to the table to eat.
“I’m not sure. Depends on how fast I pick things up, I suppose.”
“Hmmmm,” I smirk. “That’ll take mere hours, little Miss Overachiever.” I wink at her.
She grins. “Let’s say a month? Then, move to mornings to learn check out processes?”
“Done.”
We talk at length about The Av. I explain the typical room blocks for conventions, reunions, weddings and the like — pointing out rooms with the best views, wings that are most child friendly, those with easiest access to the ski lifts.
Food vendors, housekeeping processes and more, we discuss it all. I tell her how we do things. In exchange, she volunteers details from the other properties she’s worked at. I’m floored, again, at the depth of her experience at such a young age. Won’t be long and she’ll be a force to be reckoned with in the industry. I’m proud of that. I have no reason to feel like an ass for spontaneously giving her the internship.
“Is the film festival meeting at the Telluride Town Office?” Cherie stands, takes our dishes to the sink to wash.
“No. Too many participants for that. We’ll be in the main conference room at The Av, nine o’clock with a Continental breakfast spread.”
I take a washed plate from her, dry it and put it away.
“I’ve got my name tags, but not my uniforms yet,” Cherie says. “Will it be okay to be out of uniform at the meeting? I just have the one suit unpacked. I can wear it.”
Aw, fuck. My cock thickens. She’s so damn sexy in that tight little suit. Stockings? Aw, fuck.
“Sure,” I answer.
The dishes finished, my girl dries her hands. “I should go, unpack my luggage. Maria wanted a write-up on The Graces, too.”
But she stays where she is, staring at me, her blue eyes bright and dilated. Her eyes say everything she won’t allow her mouth to verbalize. Yeah, this pretend ex bullshit isn’t going to last long.
I fight the urge to touch her. “Okay.” I hang the drying towel on the rod mounted under the sink, close the cupboard. “Listen. If you have trouble sleeping, just knock on the wall behind your headboard.”
She crinkles her eyes in question.
“It’s a shared wall,” I say.
“With your bedroom.” A raised eyebrow, she gets it. She shakes her head.
“Doesn’t have to be any hanky-panky. Just knock if you have trouble sleeping. I’m assuming that I will.”
“Victor.”
I hold up a hand. “I got used to warm body in my bed.”
Yours. Draped all over me.
“If we both have insomnia, we can hang out and watch late night TV together.”
She tilts her head. “Leno or Letterman?”
“Trevor Noah,” I answer.
Nodding in approval, she grins. “Okay.”
“Knock three times on the wall if you need me.” I sing it slightly to the melody of the Tony Orlando song.
“Twice on the pipe, if the answer is nooooo,” she sings back.
Giggling, she dances her beautiful ass out the door to the music in her head.
Fuck, peaches. You’re putting me through my paces.
chapter forty-four
VICTOR WAS RIGHT. I hardly slept at all. Pride wouldn’t let me knock on the wall, though. My psyche will just have to relearn sleeping alone. Seven thousand nights solo in a bed versus only five with Victor, I can’t imagine it would take long or be that difficult to readjust.
Up early, Jesse is showered and dressed when I pad into the kitchen.
“Are you going to the hospital?” I say.
“Yeah. For a few hours.” He shovels oatmeal into his mouth. While he chews, he hands me a mug freshly filled by Gabs’ Keurig.
“Thank you.” I sip.
“Made you some oatmeal, too.” He motions to the pot on the stove.
“Awesome. You’re welcomed as a roommate anytime.” I smile at him.
“As much as I’d love living with my personal Betty and Veronica hot duo, I gotta get on the road today. My official vacation time ends tomorrow. Since I’m going to live in Boulder after all this summer, I gotta keep my job — keep the bossman happy.”
I nod my understanding.
The spoon pauses on the way to his mouth. Jesse searches my eyes. “You’ll look after Gabriela?”
“Of course, she’ll be a priority. I think her family will be more attentive, too, considering —.” I sip more coffee, swallow. “D
id she say anything more? Tell you why perhaps?” I close my eyes on the guilt. “Was it me? Our fight?”
“No, baby, no.” Setting down his bowl, Jesse hugs me. “Gabriela still insists it wasn’t a suicide attempt. We did have a chat about what she did to you. Her biggest fear right now is that you’ll never forgive her.”
I move away and open cupboards looking for the bowls. “You know I will, eventually.”
“That’s what I told her.” He grins. “And I teased her for cock blocking me.”
“Oh?” I grin back, ladling out some oatmeal for me. “So you two finally confessed your feelings for one another?”
The smile turns upside down. He shakes his head. “I didn’t push it and she didn’t either. She needs time to get over Baldwin, get her head straight.”
“I wouldn’t wait too long.” I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. “Promise you’ll stay in touch.”
He kisses the top of my head. “You sound like you’re actually going to miss me.”
And here come the tears. “Hell yes, I will. You’re my bestest friend, Jesse. Don’t tell the La Mousquetaires I said that.”
The alarm goes off in my bedroom. I ignore it, and look up at his face. “At least one text a day, okay?”
Lips clenched against his emotions, he nods. “Go shut that annoying buzzer off.” He tells me to go, but hugs me close for a few more seconds. “Go.” He shoves me away and shrugs into his jacket.
I follow him to the front door. Tears in his eyes, he kisses my forehead and is gone.
I’m not going to see him every day anymore. That chest heaving thought opens the spigot wide on my tear ducts. Lauralynn would be proud, because I just let them fall now.
Back in the kitchen, I drizzle some honey on the oatmeal Jesse made and take the bowl with me to my bedroom. I shut off the alarm and get ready for my first day at The Avalon.
Later, as I approach the main conference room at The Av, I’m grateful for the anti-gawking training at The Broadmoor. There, mingling with Victor in the conference wing lobby, are big time movie producers, directors and movie stars.
Plastering on my customer service smile, I approach.
Victor smiles at me. “Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Cherie Valentine, The Av’s new ace intern.” My boss introduces me to each person.
One famous Hollywood golden boy holds onto my hand too long and smiles too big. “What an unexpected pleasure.” He sweeps a flirty gaze up and down my body.
I blush and insist on my hand back. Eyes hard, Victor purses his lips, glances from Golden Boy to me. Here we go — our first pop quiz on exes and jealousy at work. I raise an eyebrow in challenge. A slow grin spreads across Victor’s face as he reins in his initial reaction.
“Let’s get this meeting started.” Victor indicates that we should go into the conference room.
Coffee, juice and water are set up on one table in the rear of the room. A larger table next to that is piled high with yogurt, granola, fruit, bagels, cheese and pastries of all kinds.
Since I already had a bowl of Jesse’s oatmeal, I go light — strawberries and a dollop of yogurt to dip them in. I pour myself a coffee, and choose a seat in a back corner to observe. That’s what I’m here for.
The room is called to order and the first business addressed is a chart matching films to viewing venues. The organizers keep the actual names of the films secret until opening day, so they’ve used coded colors on the daily schedules.
Practically every sizable space in town, from the middle school gym to the Opera House, will be utilized. Two outdoor screens will be erected, too. I make note that the Mountain Village Conference Center is a venue — a busy one.
I grimace, knowing that I’ll have to force myself to ride the gondola, again — and soon.
Thinking of the gondola reminds me of Victor. I am acutely indebted to him for coaxing me onto it. Although, I’m fairly certain that our erotic ride down will be cognitively linked to every gondola, no matter when or where I ride one.
Fairly certain, too, that strawberries will always remind me of our romantic dinner at Mister A’s. I dip a strawberry in the yogurt and slurp it. Images and sensations of Victor intentionally smearing whipped cream on my lips and kissing it off come unbidden.
My eyes scan the room for a current visual of sexy creases to go with the memory. When I find Victor, he’s watching me, watching my mouth around the strawberry to be precise. He licks his full bottom lip before lifting his gaze to mine. The heat in his dark chocolate eyes jolts through my nervous system and lodges in that spot between my legs.
Breakup? Hah. Disgusted with myself, I break eye contact with Victor only to see an open mouthed Golden Boy staring at me.
Damn it.
Feeling my face get warm, I drop the half-eaten strawberry back into the bowl and push the fruit away from me.
In my peripheral vision, I see Victor’s raised eyebrows. Apparently, he witnessed Golden Boy’s stare, too. Instead of being angry, Victor smirks, shakes his head and covertly wags a finger at me.
I bite my lip and force myself to focus on the logistics person. She’s talking about venue preps for media Q&As and photo ops, and points to a map of proposed hospitality tents.
Next, an artist presents this year’s collectors T-shirts and other souvenirs of the event, and where said items will be sold. After that, there’s a brief accounting of current ticket sales and paid sponsors.
Then, Victor provides the lodging stats. The Labor Day weekend event is a little over two months away. All of Telluride and the Mountain Village have been sold out since Spring with waiting lists long enough to refill every accommodation three times over.
He provides a printed list of last minute lodging options, including camp grounds, hotels in nearby and not so nearby towns, as well as local families willing to rent their backyards, spare rooms, basements and attics.
Golden Boy is the final presenter. He details the banquet and videos he’s preparing for two distinguished honorees at this year’s festival — a long-time director and a classic, older actress.
With over forty successful festivals behind them in Telluride, the organizers run the gathering like a well oiled machine, attending to every detail swiftly and efficiently.
In just over an hour, the information packed meeting concludes. I notice Golden Boy making his way toward me. No, no and no. I pretend I don’t see him and slip quickly out a side door — with the rest of my strawberries, of course.
A minute later later, I’m safely ensconced in the employee cafeteria eating my fruit and studying the Film Festival handouts from the meeting.
“Hiding?” Cup of coffee in hand, Victor sits down at my table.
“Yes.”
“You should know that a certain actor demanded your personal phone number.” He sips coffee.
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “You didn’t.”
“Oh fuck no. I have enough competition for your affections.”
“You do not.” The words are out before I realize what I’m saying.
He smirks. “That notwithstanding, it’s against the company privacy policy.”
“Thank you.”
Confusion crosses Victor’s face. “Most women swoon when a celebrity like that glances at them. He was practically panting after your ass, Cherie.”
“I’m flattered, don’t get me wrong, but I am not interested.”
I tell Victor about the small band of sports paparazzi that constantly waited on the public sidewalk outside Mom’s B&B, how they stalked the more famous Olympic athletes, even peppered me with questions when I came and went. I hated it and figured out then that fame wasn’t for me.
I finish the last gulp of coffee and stand. “Anyway, speaking of my ass. I better get back to work before the boss chews it up.” I smile, proud of my cheesy pun.
Victor smiles. “Don’t you worry. He agreed that your delicious ass is off the table for now.”
Oh, his audacity.
&n
bsp; Grinning, he calls after me as I walk away. “Find Phoebe at the front desk. She’s your trainer this morning.”
The rest of the day flies by. I’m on the desk until noon. Then, Victor has me shadow the head concierge assisting guests with everything from babysitting arrangements to finding bikes to rent. This is my element. This is what I love.
On my way out at the end of my shift, I stop by HR to drop off my enrollment forms, and to pick up my official schedule and uniforms. Tomorrow, I start swings.
I push the employee exit door open and run squarely into Baldwin.
“What are you doing here?” I snarl.
“It’s a free country, babe.” He reaches over my head, in an attempt to catch the steel door before it closes and locks.
Blocking him with my body, I use my elbow to shove it closed. “Employees only.”
“What the fuck ever.” He shrugs and turns to the sidewalk leading to the main portico.
I watch the corner he disappeared around to make sure he doesn’t come back. A redheaded girl, an employee, pushes through the door behind me and I recognize her. Baldwin’s blow job bimbo. The girl, Kaitlyn her name tag says, has the good manners to lower her eyes and blush. She hurries away in the direction Baldwin went.
The hubris of some people.
The three sets of summer uniforms are extremely heavy. Thank goodness the condo is close. I push what I just saw out of my mind and hurry the two blocks to Gabs’, slowing to switch hands every so often. I’m doing just that at the foot of the stairs at the condo entrance, when Victor appears behind me.
“Give me.” He takes them out of my hand as though they weigh nothing.
Show off.
“Not going to argue this time.” Vowing to start lifting weights to get stronger, I flex my fingers and rub the red dots the hangers left on my palms.
“Good.” He walks behind me up the stairs.
Feeling his eyes on my behind, I keep my hips tight — try not to sway too much. I unlock the door, push it open.
“Want these in your bedroom closet?” He asks.
“Yes, please.”
“Lead the way.” He motions for me to go first.
Accidental Lover (Wolven Moon Book 3) Page 33