Wicked Gentleman Page 13

  “Gran, it’s Stevie. Things have been insane, so I apologize for not visiting last weekend. I have a new job, not at the museum but at the hotel.” I plucked the copy of Hollywood Wives from my purse as I situated myself on the bench. “So, should we read first or do you want to hear about the dream I had and how I ran out on my . . . the guy I’m dating. Anyway, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m dating my new boss, and I thought instead of waking up next to him and having a conversation the better option would be to run away like a child.” My gaze travelled around the grounds to headstones, the trees and the flowers.

  “Jackson, that’s what everyone calls him, but me, I call him Jax. He’s charming, handsome and funny; at least I think he’s funny.” I stood, and ran my hand over the stone and the letters of her name. “He also holds a lot of similar qualities to the men in this book.” I laughed and thumbed at the pages. “None of that matters. At times I can’t tell if I’m in over my head. It’s like am I dreaming or drowning?” Sighing, I slumped down onto the bench. “I like him a lot, Gran, and I think you’d like him too. So that about sums it up, I’m dating my boss and it’s crazy scary but also amazing. And now on with the book, let’s see what Gina Germaine is up to today.”

  MY FINGERS TAPPED AGAINST THE boardroom table waiting for the rest of the executive team to filter in for the meeting. As Carol sifted through her file folders, her assistant, Beth, passed out the agenda. Stevie breezed through the door wearing a black and white dress. She looked beautiful. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves over her bare shoulders and her lips, her perfect kissable lips, were bright pink. She took a seat next to Eric, and he stared at her a little too long for my liking.

  When I cleared my throat her blue eyes met mine. I smiled and her cheeks tinged as pink as her lips.

  I called the meeting to order by welcoming everyone and then gave the floor to Eric. Halfway through the analysis of the monthly financial statement, Stevie’s eyes met mine again. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, registering my dick to life. I tried to stop the images of me bending Stevie over this table and fucking her while she cried out my name begging me for more.

  “And that is all from me,” Eric said.

  “Thank you, Eric. Okay, Carol, what do you have for us today?”

  “As you can see we need to finalize the events for the holiday season,” Carol began. “More specifically, the details regarding our Merry and Bright Christmas brunch.”

  “The Winter Wonderland tea event begins the first week of November,” Beth interjected. “As you can see, we are almost sold out of our afternoon tea event packages through December.”

  “That’s good news, but aren’t we normally sold out of this event within the first hours of the press release?” I asked, leveling my gaze towards Carol.

  “Yes, however this year,” Carol replied tapping her pen against the table. “We’ve had an unusual number of inquiries for children’s activities during the holiday season. It seems the Surfcomber is offering a variety of holiday movies, baking classes and ornament making packages for kids while their parents attend afternoon tea.”

  “So the Surfcomber has decided to up their game and take our annual afternoon tea event and put their own spin on it?” Kenzie, the director of marketing asked.

  “Hart Hotel is an upscale resort and spa, not a babysitting service,” Eric scoffed. “If they want that kind of treatment why don’t they head north and stay at Disney?”

  “Absolutely, I agree,” Carol said. “As much as I adore children, our patrons come here for the experience. We’ve never had a children’s club or anything of that nature.”

  “It’s never been a part of the Hart Hotels Inc. branding,” Kenzie reminded. “Changing our image now could jeopardize our expansion.”

  Stevie raised her hand. “You have something to offer, Miss Brockman?”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  “Fuck me.”

  Carol pinned me with a sharp look. No one else in the room seemed to have heard. While we were in this room, I needed to stop seeing Stevie as the woman I was currently sleeping with and refocus. She was an employee. At the same time we were executive associates in the same meeting.

  “I have an idea that might be able to satisfy the issue at hand and still remain true to the Hart Hotels Inc. brand.”

  “Please, by all means the floor is yours,” I said, leaning back into my chair.

  “What about offering story time with Missus Claus?”

  “Additional cost, we’d need to hire an actress to play Missus Claus,” I pointed out.

  “Right, okay, what about just having a member of the staff? The Revel Club Lounge would provide the perfect space. Pair it with a giftwrapping event. Instead of the parents having to schlep out to separate events so that Tommy can get daddy a gift and Suzy can get mommy a gift. Have the kids purchase items from our gift shop.”

  “So you’re suggesting that little Suzy and little Tommy take their parents credit card and buy some Waterford Crystal for holiday gifts?” Carol challenged.

  Carol brought up an excellent question. Outwardly, I displayed zero emotion. Inwardly I was cheering for Stevie to solve it.

  “Actually, I was thinking one gift, the same gift—a silver picture frame,” Stevie said, holding up her phone. “An elegant frame that will display their holiday memories.”

  “Oh, yes, I love those silver frames in the gift shop,” Beth mused. “I have at least five in my house.”

  “Think of it like a gift with purchase. It saves the parent’s the time and the hassle of driving the kids to the mall to find the perfect gift at the same time filters money back into the hotel.”

  “It’s not a bad idea, not at all,” Kenzie said. “I like it.”

  “Do you have any more suggestions?” I asked.

  Stevie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What about having a hot chocolate bar for the kids?”

  I watched as she answered the follow up questions with ease. She barely blinked or faltered with any of her answers. The more she spoke the more it confirmed that I was right to trust my gut in offering her a position on the executive team.

  IT TOOK EVERYTHING INSIDE ME not to slam my notepad onto my desk. Cursing Jax under my breath, I slumped into my chair. Was he trying to teach me something by putting me on the spot and challenging me? He was different in the meeting. Of course he was different—it’s his company. You asked for this, Stevie. No preferential treatment.

  “Miss Brockman, may I have a word with you?” Carol’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.

  “Sure, what can I do for you?”

  She stepped further into my office and Beth appeared by her side. “Miss Brockman, you are in violation of the employee dress code.”

  My eyes popped wide and I froze. “What?”

  “I’ll speak slower this time,” she answered, taking a ruler from Beth’s hands. “You are in violation of the employee dress code.”

  Beth stared at the floor as Carol approached me. I was officially confused as hell.

  She dropped to her knees in front of me, steadying the ruler from the hem of my dress to my knee. “Exactly as I suspected a quarter of an inch.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The hemline of your dress is two and a quarter inches above your knee. Company policy states ‘hemlines may not be shorter than two inches.’ Not only that, but your shoulders are bare.” Her gaze never left me as she traded Beth the ruler for a booklet. “Miss Brockman, can you tell me what floor we are on?”

  “The twenty-first floor.”

  “Very good, one of two executive floors,” she replied, handing me the booklet. “The next time I see you here, perhaps you’ll be dressed more like a professional and less like you’re going to a casual backyard barbeque. Pages ten and eleven will provide you with the appropriate information. I suggest you drop by one of our four boutiques and use your executive employee discount. Do you have any questions?”

  “
No, I do not.” I kept my tone even.

  She looked at her watch. “Well, now I can finally go to lunch.” They walked away without another word. Fighting back tears, I smoothed my palms down my dress. I shuffled back to my desk and dropped onto my chair wishing I had a pillow that I could scream into.

  After lunch, I walked through the windowed hallway towards the boutique on the mezzanine level. Stopping for a moment, I admired the artwork and paintings that decorated the wall, taking note of the special sunlight reflective frames. Nice touch.

  My phone pinged alerting me to the auction that was ending in two hours. I had my eye on a collection of tintype photos for the Park City property renovation. A vintage collector had some beautiful casual photos of celebrities at the Sundance film festival. At present, I was the highest bidder. As I shoved my phone into my handbag I felt someone grab my arm from behind, spinning me around.

  “Hey, how’s your day going?” Jax’s blue eyes stared into mine.

  Jerking from the hold he had on me I stumbled backwards and my ass connected with a wooden door.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m touched by your concern, Mister Hart.”

  He narrowed his gaze at me. “Is something on your mind, Miss Brockman?”

  “Yes, it seems that I have violated the company dress code and I need to purchase something with a longer hemline.”

  “This dress?”

  I nodded.

  “Says who?” he asked, slipping his hand under my skirt.

  “The company manual, specifically pages ten and eleven. Since this is your company, I’m only to assume that you made the rules.”

  His fingers traced the lace edge of my panties. “I do make the rules, but I can also change the rules.”

  “Don’t do me any favors.”

  “Is there a reason for your hostile attitude towards me this afternoon?”

  “You put me on the spot in that meeting earlier. Were you trying to embarrass me?” Anger vibrated in my voice.

  Footsteps echoed in the hallway accompanied by voices. His hand slipped from beneath my dress and landed on the handle of the door. “Let’s chat.” Jax grasped my elbow with his other hand, propelling me backwards into a dark a room.

  The lights flicked followed by the door catching in the latch. “You think that I put you on the spot in the meeting?”

  Nodding, I crossed my arms.

  Jax fixed his gaze on me. “Honestly, Stevie, all I was trying to do was challenge your line of thinking. I was really proud of you in the meeting.”

  “Really?”

  He stepped forward rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “Really,” he repeated. “You came up with some excellent ideas and it was very sexy to watch you hold your own in that room.”

  Embarrassment flowed through me, evidenced by the heat rising in my cheeks. In this moment, I was acting like a brat and showing my age. If I was being honest, I was ticked about how Carol had treated me and I was taking it out on Jax. A small part of me wanted to tell him everything, but that would be tattling. I’ll be damned if I was going to be that woman running to her boyfriend and getting him involved with petty inter-office squabbles. I violated the dress code, I needed to own up to that mistake.

  His mouth curled into a smile, and he stole a kiss, tugging my bottom lip. “I should write you up for mouthing off to the CEO.”

  Uncurling my arms, I smiled against his lips. “I’m sorry for my attitude, Mister Hart.”

  Smirking, he waved me off and then his lips landed on mine. His palm connected with my backside. “If I didn’t have a meeting in ten minutes, I’d teach that mouth of yours a lesson.” He slid his hand between my legs rubbing my clit through my panties. My heart hammered in my chest, my eyes dropped to his lips. “Say my name again.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Mister Hart, you’re in danger of violating our no sex at the office rule.”

  “Yeah,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. “Are you coming home with me tonight?”

  I laid my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating a slow steady rhythm. “I suppose I could sleepover.”

  He waggled his brows. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  Four weeks later

  “HEY, MOM,” I SAID, CRADLING the phone between my chin and shoulder.

  “Stevie, when will you be coming home for Thanksgiving?”

  Scrambling around my bathroom, I pushed the speaker button and then proceeded to grab my toothbrush from the holder.

  Thanksgiving? Is that coming up already? My current project was keeping me busy. The Thanksgiving installation at the hotel was coming down early Friday morning and I would need to be there to oversee the Christmas installation. I had a twenty-five foot Christmas tree that would be set up in the lobby. Twenty-two birch trees, more than sixty thousand twinkling lights and three hundred feet of pine needle garland all waiting to transform Hart Hotel into a winter wonderland.

  “Stevie, did you hear me?”

  My fingers squeezed the tube of whitening paste. “Uh, yeah, I guess I hadn’t given it much thought. I figured that you’d being going over to Aunt Darlene and Uncle Roger’s place.”

  Darlene was my mom’s younger sister and Uncle Roger wasn’t my uncle, not really. He was Darlene’s second husband, now divorced, but after I graduated they decided to start dating again—too complicated for me.

  Relationships should be easy. Most people will tell you that relationships are hard work. I think that a relationship with the wrong person is hard work.

  “Well, your father, he decided that we should host this year. Darlene and Roger will be there, the older kids won’t be around. Your father, he wants to deep fry a turkey.”

  I rolled my eyes, and shoved the toothbrush into my mouth to keep me from saying something offensive. My father was notorious for leaving every family gathering and holiday. Sometimes it was to go hunting, so he claimed. One Easter, I followed him. All he did was go around town to the car washes, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

  “I’m ordering some pies, from Handel’s bakery, but I will be making your favorite sweet potato casserole.”

  At twenty-four, could I finally tell my mom that I hated sweet potato anything? I really did. I’d lied my entire life about loving sweet potatoes and when someone added brown sugar or marshmallows, just no. No, I would take it to my grave. There was no reason to give her anymore grief, I’d done that plenty where my father was concerned.

  “Anyway, we’d love to see you, sugar.”

  And by we—she means her, which is totally fine by me. “I’d love to see you too, Mom,” I said, smoothing my dress over my hips. “I don’t know about Thanksgiving because I am overseeing the Christmas installation at the hotel.”

  “I understand,” she said. “With a new job comes major responsibility. You definitely need to keep up your exemplary work ethic.”

  “Maybe you could visit before Christmas,” I suggested before muting the phone to gargle some mouthwash.

  “I’ll take a look at the calendar. I have a meeting with the principal at your elementary school. There’s an administrative position open after the winter break. And I’m overseeing the Christmas bazaar and holiday bake sale at the church.”

  “Busy lady. That’s really awesome about the school job, Mom. I wish you good luck.”

  “Thanks, sugar. That’s the other line, I better take the call.”

  “Okay, talk soon.”

  I ended the call and stuffed my phone into my purse. Looking at the clock on the wall, I had fifteen minutes to make it to work. After grabbing my keys, I pulled open the screen door to find my father standing on the porch.

  What the hell? Shock is all I felt, but I don’t want him to know that or hear any kind of tone in my voice, so I faked a smile as wide as the delta and put a sing song pitch into my voice.

  “Hey, Dad, what brings you down to Florida?” I asked, locking the door.

  His fingers rubbed the greyin
g black stubble of his jawline. His hands were ashen, and held more spots than I remembered. Hard to believe they were the same hands that used to hit me when I made too much noise playing with my toys.

  As he stepped towards me, the scent of menthols and too much Brut cologne invaded my senses. “I need a couple thousand dollars.” He jutted his chin. “Can you help your old man out?”

  I kept my tone even. “What makes you think I have that kind of money?”

  His brows drew together, as he nodded. “Little girl, I know that old bitty that you call Gran, left you this place and I think she left you a hefty sum of cash.”

  “No, she really didn’t and if she had I would have paid off my student loans by now and my car,” I replied, gesturing towards the Focus.

  His expression went dark as his green bloodshot eyes met mine. “Right, and by the looks of your fancy dress, you’re telling me you don’t have any money?”

  “Does Mom know that you’re here?” I bit out.

  “What I do is none of your mother’s concern.”

  I sidestepped him, and headed towards the stairs. “I need to be going. I have a meeting at work. Thanks for stopping by, Dad.”

  He took a step backwards wrapping his hand around the railing keeping me from moving down the stairs. “If you’re hiding money, I’ll find out, and you’ll wish you hadn’t lied to me.” His words were menacing. Disgust lurched in my stomach and the tone sent shivers racing up my spine.

  Lighting up a cigarette, my dad descended the wooden stairs and walked to his orange Chevy pickup. Thank goodness Megyn was staying at a friend’s house. I didn’t need her hearing my dad’s threats. As I climbed into my car, I watched as the truck drove down the alley.

  When I got to work, I logged into my bank account from my personal laptop. I had a few thousand dollars in my account. It wasn’t much, but there’s enough to pay bills and some extra to put towards renovating Gran’s place.

  I stared at the framed picture of mom and me and sadness swirled inside me. Earlier on the phone, she was so happy asking me to come home for the holiday weekend. After the visit from my father, it reminded me of all the reasons I wanted to avoid Kennesaw.