“You’re certain I have to attend this one, Mason?” I asked, looking down at his bright tablet with my color-coded calendar schedule on it.

He looked at me like I’d just asked if the sky was blue. “It’s vitally important to attend all of the events you have scheduled. But this one, especially. It is likely to be the biggest gathering of hospitality management professionals and investors this fall.”

I slumped back in my uncomfortable chair. We were in one of the conference rooms on the ground floor of the hotel, and the expensive Italian office chairs my mother had ordered for this room were much more style than substance. My ass and spine had been hurting for the entire meeting with Mason.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

Mason took off his glasses, and for once, turned off the tablet. It was the first time I’d seen him without the glasses, and he looked younger and far less intense without them. His eyes were kind, but he scratched the top of his head, seemingly hesitant about something.

“Adrian… can I have an honest word with you? A personal one.”

I sat up a little straighter in my chair. “You can tell me anything, anytime.”

He nodded, looking down at the conference table before looking back up at me. “I… just want to warn you, I suppose. I can see already that you’re not exactly thrilled to be attending these types of events, and you need to know that they are an integral part of being the face of the Terrance Hotel.”

I nodded solemnly. “I’m… not thrilled. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the importance. I’m going to try harder.”

He nodded. “I just don’t want your reputation to be at stake. That’s all. And after last week, with you missing the Winters’ gala….”

“Did something bad happen because I wasn’t there?”

Mason cocked his head to the side. “Well, no, nothing like that. But I just want to ensure that… you have your priorities in order.”

I tried to hide my surprise at his words. I had never expected to hear it from him, of all people, but I knew that Mason wouldn’t tell me anything he didn’t fully believe.

“Okay,” I said.

“I’m only saying this to help you. Really. This world can eat people alive if they don’t perform the roles they’re expected to, and… on a personal note, I do want to see you succeed.”

“Mason,” I said, actually touched by his words. “That’s very nice of you.”

“I’ll be frank—I’d love to see you transform this hotel even more than your parents did. I’ve heard so many stories about how your grandfather loved this hotel, and even more stories about how he loved you.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “You’ve heard stories about Grandpop?”

Mason nodded. “I’ve been your mother’s assistant for four years. She’s talked about you and your grandfather more than you might expect. How much he doted over you, and… ah…”

“And that he spoiled me,” I said, “I know she always says that.”

Mason smiled a little. “She has been known to say that, yes,” he said. “I just know that even if this job isn’t your ideal one, that you care deeply about your grandfather’s legacy.”

I smiled at him, reaching out to grab his shoulder. “You’ve only been working with me for a few weeks, and you already know me well,” I said.

He smiled for another moment, and then it seemed as if all at once, he remembered who he was. He put on his glasses, powered up his tablet again, and was Mr. On-Task all over again.

“So you’ll be at the Richardson party tomorrow night,” he said, tapping away at his screen.

“I will be there.”

“Perfect. You have a plus one, of course. Shall I contact Ms. Farra?”

I scrunched up my nose. “Don’t contact Maxine. I’ll… I’ll find someone else to go with.”

He paused for a moment, watching me, before turning away. “Understood,” he said.

I knew what he was thinking during that pause. He was holding himself back from telling me that the right move, the socially correct one, would be to bring Maxine.

But I just couldn’t bear it. And there was someone else I needed to invite to the party.

When I made my way back up after the meeting, I ran right into Josh as he was exiting my suite. I liked the idea that when I was away, he was in my room, existing in my space. Even if it was just his job to clean my place, it somehow made me feel less alone.

“Hi, stranger,” I said as I walked up. He jumped as he turned around and saw me.

“Jesus,” he said. “You scared me. Didn’t expect you to be back this early.” He put down the wood polish he was holding, stuffing it onto the cleaning cart that sat in the hallway.

I shrugged. “I do live here, after all.”

He kept his eyes down. “I was just finishing. Everything’s freshened up inside. Have a good day, Adrian.” He started to walk away, pushing the cart.

“Wait,” I said, and he turned his head back, looking to me expectantly. “Do… do you want to come in for a few minutes? It’s been a while since we’ve really talked. I haven’t seen you in days, actually.”

“I really should get back to work—” he said, avoiding my gaze.

“Trust me, you’re okay to come talk to me for a few minutes. If anyone has any issues with your work schedule, they can take it up with me.”

Josh hesitated, but finally, he turned around, leaving the cart in the hall and coming back to my suite.

When he was inside, it felt like any of the connection we’d made last week had vanished. Josh looked tired, out of place, and uncomfortable, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t want to be in here with me.

Jesus, I must have really put him off when I was drunk the other day.

“So… what’s up?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“God, it has been quite a week,” I said, throwing myself onto my couch. I hoped he would follow suit and sit on the couch opposite from me, but instead he just stayed standing, looking at me like he was waiting for permission to leave.

“Alright, fine, I’ll cut to the chase,” I said. “I have to go to this dumb event. The Richardson party. Will you come with me? I’ve been avoiding my social duties but this time I think I actually have to go. It’s some ritzy, big gathering of hospitality executives.”

Josh raised an eyebrow at me. “Right. I know what the Richardson party is. A couple of the other housekeepers used to work at their hotels. Said the Richardsons were even stricter than the Terrances.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” I said. “So will you come with me? Make a shitty evening less shitty?”

“God, no. I can’t go with you to that, it’s way too big, and posh, and... not my world. Why would you invite me?”

I shrugged. “Want someone to go with. I have a plus one, and I need a partner in crime.”

He cocked his head to the side. “So you should bring Maxine.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not bringing Maxine.”

“Why not?”

I pulled in a deep breath, sitting up straighter on the couch. If Josh wasn’t going to sit down, I at least wasn’t going to be lying around like an idiot alone.

“It didn’t work out with Maxine. We can leave it at that.”

“Really? It seemed like things were going well the other night. Casablanca, the wine….”

I let out a long breath. “It was awful, Josh.”

“Did something happen?”

“Too much happened. We went out for drinks before coming back to my suite, and then after chugging two glasses of my best wine, she puked. Got it all over the front of my shirt, and all over her own clothes. I felt horrible. I let her shower, use my robe, anything to make her feel better, but she was a mess.”

Josh looked like a deer in the headlights. “Jesus. What about… the movie? And making her coffee in the morning?”

“Well,” I said, “I asked her what her favorite movie was, something to calm her down. She was losing her mind, crying and talking about what a fuck-up she was. Apparently she had taken a handful of diet pills before coming on the date, and that’s why she puked everything up. She really was glad to watch Casablanca, though. Thank you, again, for that.”

“Wow,” Josh said. Finally, he walked the few steps over to the couch and sat down, furrowing his brow at me. “So it wasn’t some grand, romantic evening.”

I shook my head. “It was awful. Sad, more than anything.”

“You aren’t going to see her again?”

“No. Not because of that night, but just because… Maxine and I aren’t compatible to begin with. She wants the hotel heiress life, and I’m not in the business of trying to provide that for someone.”

“She wants to be Paris Hilton?” he said, smiling.

“Pretty much. When I tried to talk to her about the winery, she just asked why I bothered working in Oregon at all when I could just inherit my money.”

“Yikes,” Josh said.

I nodded. “I don’t hate her. I feel for her. But… I’m not going to be seeing her again.”

Josh watched me, his look much softer than it had been earlier.

“So,” I said, “I’ve got a plus-one to the Richardson party with your name on it. Please go with me?”

He looked down at the floor, then back up to me. “I can’t believe you don’t have some old high school friend you’d rather go with. Where are all your lacrosse buddies?”

“Forget about them,” I said. I honestly hadn’t thought about them since I’d come back to Mistview. “I don’t know what they’re up to these days. Probably made a ton of money on Wall Street, I’d guess. But, no, I haven’t talked to anyone from the lacrosse team in many, many years.”

Josh was quiet, seemingly deep in thought.

“And I also… owe you an apology. After last week. I know I was annoyingly drunk.”

“So… that’s why you’re asking me. You want to apologize, and there’s no one better to go with,” he said, as if it were a fact rather than a question.

“If you’re asking if you’re some kind of last resort, I have two words for you: hell no. You’re far from that.”

He looked shy for a moment. “I’m just... surprised, that’s all. I’m just the guy who cleans your room.”

“Honestly,” I said, leaning forward. “You’re the last person I remember caring about or thinking about at all from my days in Mistview. You… can’t even imagine how happy I was when I saw that you were working here. It was like catching fucking lightning in a bottle.”

He watched me closely, as if he didn’t even know whether to believe me.

“Josh, I truly thought I would never see you again. You being in my life again is the best part of coming back to this stupid city.”

I couldn’t read the look on his face, but I hoped to God I was getting through to him.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll go with you to the damn thing.”

I clapped my hands together, smiling wide. “Bingo,” I said. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“But,” he said, holding up a finger, “...there is one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“What the fuck am I supposed to wear to a party like that?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem at all.”

The next night, Josh and I walked into a hotel that was about five times larger and more grandiose than the Terrance Hotel. The Richardsons owned countless hotels across the globe, and this was their crown jewel—an eighty-story behemoth that towered over Central Park.

It was the kind of party that my mother would be equally livid and overjoyed to attend. She would surely make catty remarks about the food and the decor and the favors, but in secret, she’d be taking notes, planning which details to steal for her own next event.

I took a deep breath, trying to forget every horrible party like this that I was dragged to as a kid. Josh was at my side, looking every bit as wary as I was.

“Hey,” I said to him. “You’re going to be fine.” I was saying it as much for myself as I was for him, but the smile it put on his face melted away any bit of anxiety I still had lingering inside me.

I realized then that there was no one in the world I’d have rather gone to a party with than Josh. If everything tonight sucked, I at least had him here—someone who wasn’t wrapped up in all the bullshit of the industry.

A few moments later, we entered into the gauntlet. The hotel looked lit from within—everything gilded and gleaming. Fresh white roses were on practically every surface, and live piano music filled the space.

And once we entered, it was like jumping into the deep end. Over the course of the next hour, a barrage of people approached me from every angle, all of them saying variations of the same thing.

“Adrian, I heard you’re the man in charge, now!”

“Where are your parents this evening?”

“We all knew you’d be back in town eventually. Glad you’ve wisened up.”

I never could have expected how many people would approach me. They mostly ignored Josh, even when I introduced him, which was exactly the way these rude, wealthy people had treated me as a child. I hated that everyone acted as though it were my destiny to move back to Mistview Heights and take over the hotel—as if they knew my life better than I did, like I never had any choice in the matter to begin with.

It felt like being in a pressure cooker. Trying to remember everyone’s name, role, and connections. There were other hotel owners, investors, socialites, and people who seemed to be there for no reason other than the fact that they were wealthy.

Finally, after plastering on a fake smile for far too long, Josh and I were able to make our way over the bar. I ordered us each a glass of wine, and that first sip was like a gift from heaven. Josh had looked just as lost and out of place as I felt for the entire night.

I leaned against a column, shaking my head at Josh. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

He took a small sip of wine, nodding at me. “I know you are,” he said, smiling a little. “I’m okay, though. Trust me.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I shouldn’t have made you endure this.”

“It’s really okay,” he said. “I’m used to it, kind of. I work for your parents, after all. I’m used to drifting off into my own imagination when I’m being ignored.”

I grinned at him. “Oh really?” I asked. “What were you thinking of while Bob Patterson was name-dropping all the politicians that stay at his hotel?”

Josh smiled. “Hmm… I think at that point I was imagining what everyone in here would look like naked.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And how did I look?”

Josh snorted and took another sip of wine. I swore I could see a light blush to his face.

“Well, look who it is,” a voice came from behind us that sounded like the sum of a lifetime’s worth of brandy and cigarettes. I turned around to see one of my mother’s good friends, Helen Holloway, approaching.

“Mrs. Holloway,” I said, reaching out to give her a loose hug. Her perfume smelled like stale potpourri and I felt her long, red nails dig into my back.

“Little Adrian Terrance, all grown up,” she said. “And is this your assistant?” she asked, looking to Josh.

“No, no. This is my good friend Josh. He’s my plus one for the party.”

“Why do you look so familiar, boy?” she said, inspecting Josh. “Have I seen you at the Terrance?”

“I work there, ma’am,” he said. I could tell that he was trying to be as polite as he could, but that it was a struggle. I couldn’t blame him.

“Oh you do?” she asked.

“Yes. In housekeeping.”

“Ah!” she exclaimed, waving a hand in the air. “I do remember, now. You cleaned my suite, when I stayed for the charity event last year. Visible tattoos. I remember being very surprised that the Terrance would allow visible tattoos. You do have them, yes? On your arm? My memory is sharp.”

Josh nodded. “I do have a few, yes.”

“I see,” she said. She looked back at me, and I could see where her thick mascara had clumped on her lashes. “Adrian, how nice of you to bring him along. Truly an altruistic one, like your grandfather, aren’t you? He always liked to pick up strays.”

“There is no altruism here, Mrs. Holloway,” I said firmly. “Josh is a friend from high school, and there is no one better to have by my side.”

She puckered her lips. “Hah!” she exclaimed. “Well. I do hope your mother is teaching you what’s necessary to run a successful hotel.” She leaned in close to my ear, whispering, so that Josh couldn’t hear her. “And it doesn’t involve bringing blue-collar boys as your dates to important parties.”

I pulled back, aghast. It was one thing to deal with her surface-level rudeness, but she had just stepped way far out of line.

“Your mother and I have been friends for a long time, Adrian,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “She does tell me everything. But you’re a grown man, now, and attending events like these isn’t fun and games.”

A cold flood rushed through me. Her words rang in my mind: She tells me everything. Mrs. Holloway couldn’t possibly have been referring to the night ten years ago in the garden. I thought for sure my mother wouldn’t have told anyone about that.

I tried my best to hide the panic that was moving through my veins like poison.

“You have gone and introduced yourself to Craig and Sally, haven’t you—”

“Mrs. Holloway,” I said, interrupting her, “I’m afraid Josh and I have somewhere we need to be. We have to leave, now.”

“Hah! Well, alright. Make sure you try the cucumber sandwiches, they are divine….”

I took Josh’s arm and pulled him away. His brow was furrowed.

“Let’s get the fuck away from here,” I said.

“Adrian, what is going on?” Josh asked.

I pulled him far away, across the entire ballroom full of people. My eyes darted around, searching for anywhere to go. The outside area was full of more people I didn’t want to see, and anywhere inside was a minefield, too.

I glimpsed a set of marble stairs at the corner of the room that had been cordoned off with a velvet rope.

“Here,” I said, moving the rope aside and ascending the stairs quickly.

“Adrian, we can’t be up here—” Josh said.

“We’re fine. Just walk fast, and act like you’re supposed to be back here.”

We walked up the first flight of stairs without being questioned, and then zig-zagged up another five flights. Finally, we made it to an upper balcony that looked out over the ballroom that was thankfully empty. From up here, we could look out over the whole party, but no one was looking up at us.

I sat down at the top of the set of stairs, scrubbing my palms over my face as Josh sat down next to me.

“Adrian… what happened?” Josh asked, his voice quiet.

I pulled in a breath, looking to him at my side. “Mrs. Holloway is a nasty old woman, that’s what happened,” I said.

“Did she insult you?”

“In her own horrible way, yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” Josh said. “Want me to go dump a glass of wine over her head? Maybe smush a deviled egg on the back of her dress?”

I puffed out a laugh that turned into a sigh. “That dress probably cost ten thousand dollars,” I said. “So, yeah. Please smush ten eggs onto it.”

“I’d do it for you,” Josh said, grinning at me.

I let out another sigh, biting my bottom lip. “I just can’t help but think that she’s the only one rude enough to say… horrible things to my face, but that everyone must be thinking them behind my back. Thinking only about what I used to be like as a teenager, not trusting that I can do this job right at all.”

“You can, though,” Josh said, putting a hand on my thigh. “You can do this job better than your parents ever did. I believe that.”

“You really do?” I asked. “I’m not so sure. I’ve been at this event for, what, an hour, and it’s already ruining me.”

“You’ll build up a tolerance to it, I think. Or, maybe, once people realize that you’re not someone who will accept being fucked with, they’ll start to back down. You’re going to be the owner of the Terrance Hotel, Adrian. You will have the power to change the tone of things yourself, you know.”

“I sure hope so,” I said. We sat for a while like that, unwinding as the sounds of the party drifted up toward us. “Y’know,” I finally said, “I have had thoughts like that before. About… changing the tone of things at the hotel.”

“Really?” Josh asked.

I nodded. “Did you know that back in the day, Grandpop used to host tons of events at the hotel? Not just parties for wealthy people, I mean—he’d do charity auctions, community gatherings, potlucks, art shows….”

“At the Terrance Hotel?” Josh asked, incredulous.

“Yep,” I replied. “Hard to believe, I know. My parents have tried to make everyone forget it. It was part of their plan to make the hotel ‘classier.’ But I still remember the stories Grandpop used to tell. The Terrance Hotel used to be so much more fun, in the sixties and seventies.”

“Well, damn, I had no clue,” Josh said, smiling.

“I’d love to bring that back,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “Of course, my parents will fight tooth and nail for that not to happen, but as of November, I’ll be the one fully in charge.”

“You will,” he said with a nod. “You really will have the power to shape the hotel. And quite frankly, I think your idea sounds amazing.”

I pulled in a long breath. “Maybe, I don’t know. It sure doesn’t feel like it yet. Right now I kind of feel like an ant trying to swim in an ocean of bile.”

“Well, I can sure fucking relate to that,” Josh said, leaning back a little. I turned to look at him.

“I know. I’m so sorry about what Mrs. Holloway said about the tattoos.”

Josh shrugged. “Oh, that’s nothing,” he said. “I get it almost every day from Terrance guests. People have actually refused to tip me before, just because of my tattoos.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Not in the slightest,” he said, shaking his head. “I really should just keep my sleeves rolled down, per policy. But I get hot when I work, and I roll them up, and… people don’t like that.”

I shook my head. “That policy is going to change the second I’m in charge. It’s antiquated.”

“Lotta guests of the hotel are going to disagree with that,” Josh said, smiling a little. “But I’m glad to hear it.”

“What tattoos do you have, anyway?” I asked.

Josh paused for a minute, before taking off the jacket he was wearing. It was an expensive one that I had rush ordered for him last night. He removed the cufflinks at the bottom of his shirt sleeve and rolled it up to expose the tattoos on his forearm.

“Usually these are the only ones that customers ever see,” he said, running his hand along them. He pointed to one that was a bird on a branch. “This is the European Starling, which is my mom’s favorite. Every Saturday morning, she’d bird watch, and she always pointed out this one to me when I was growing up. It became kind of a ritual, so this tattoo is for Mom,” he said.

“That’s incredibly beautiful,” I said. The detailing was intricate and finely done.

“Thank you. I drew it, and the tattoo artist did a great job with it. And then this one—” he said, pointing to the other large one that snaked down his inner forearm, “—is the first tattoo I ever got. The first week of college. It’s just a stylized paintbrush… because I was so involved in painting. Kind of stupid, I know.”

“It isn’t stupid at all,” I said. The paintbrush was rendered in bold black lines, and looked abstract and artistic in its own right, almost as if it were in motion on his arm.

It felt intimate seeing Josh’s tattoos. I knew they were just on his forearm, but I liked seeing his skin, knowing the meaning that each tattoo had to him. Josh could have told me anything and I’d have been interested in it.

“I’ve got more, but they’re in places hotel guests wouldn’t see,” he said, grinning as he pushed his sleeve back down and slipped his jacket on again.

I just watched him, dumbstruck for a moment. My mind was racing with curiosity. Where were his other tattoos? What did they look like?

Despite everything, I started imagining the planes of Josh’s body, how beautiful he might look under his clothes. Where I might find tattoos on him, if I were to take off everything he was wearing, slowly and methodically. And of course, moments later, I felt my traitorous cock perking up under my pants.

Christ, it had been too long since I’d let off any steam. I hadn’t fucked anyone since I moved back to the city. I’d been too distracted, really, caught up with my work so much that I hadn’t even thought about finding a hookup.

But now… something about Josh’s skin and how close he was sitting to me was stirring dangerous feelings in me. I wasn’t even drunk tonight—I’d barely had any of my wine, and there was no excuse for me to be feeling this way.

“You got any tattoos hiding under there?” Josh asked me, leaning back and fixing his eyes on me. Now that we were alone, he seemed about a million times more relaxed, and his gaze was almost serene.

He looked good. Too good.

I shook my head. “No tattoos for me. Guess I’m not adventurous enough.”

He laughed softly. “Well, then, maybe it’s time to get a little more adventurous,” he said. “Never too late for that.”

“Does sneaking up to empty balconies where I’m not supposed to be—with employees of mine that I’m not supposed to have as my date—count as adventurous?”

Josh lifted an eyebrow, a smile still on his lips. “I didn’t know you were taking me on a date, Terrance,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “You should know, I’m not a cheap date.”

A fire started burning inside my chest.

“No? You’re not?” I asked, turning toward him.

He shook his head. “Not at all. A guy’s gotta woo me before he ever takes me home.”

“And how exactly does a guy woo Josh Crane?” I said.

“I don’t actually know, really,” he replied, but his eyes were still playful, teasing, not at all shying away. “I guess there’s a lot of ways.”

“How about if I start by telling you that you look amazing tonight?” I asked. I felt like I was operating on autopilot, like words I couldn’t control were spilling out of me. Where was this coming from?

“Aw, shucks,” Josh said, rolling his eyes. “I look like every other guy in a suit.”

“No,” I said, growing more serious. “You look like yourself, confident and attractive and strong, even in the face of all the fucking assholes at this party.”

Josh paused for a moment, watching me, as if he was trying to figure out how truthful I was being.

“You don’t have to flatter me, Adrian,” he said quietly. “The way people acted down there was rough, but I really am used to it. I’ve got a thick skin at this point.”

I puffed out a small laugh. “I’m not flattering you,” I said. “I... like you a lot, Josh. I hope you know that.”

He watched me closely for a while, his eyes dancing over my face. “God, it’s so fucking weird,” he said, leaning back a little.

“What is?”

He just shook his head. “For so long, I… thought about what it might be like if we met up again. I’d think about it all the time—how I’d tell you off, how I’d say you were a coward, all of that stuff.”

“And you would have been right to do that,” I said softly.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I never thought it would… be like this, if I saw you again. That you would still want to talk to me at all. That you’d actually understand me.”

“Of course I still want to talk to you,” I said. “I hated myself for how I acted. I still kind of do, to be honest.”

“There’s no need for that,” Josh said. “I’m… really glad to have you back, too. Most of my friends around here aren’t exactly friends to me anymore. Maybe they never were.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

A million emotions poured out of Josh’s eyes at that moment. And for the first time ever, I felt that he may actually need more than he let on. His air of jaded independence had momentarily dropped, and I realized how lonely he must be, in a city where he’d outgrown his old friends and social circles.

Maybe he wasn’t just doing me a favor by hanging out with me tonight. Maybe he needed someone, just as much as I did.

More than any of my misplaced desire for him—the way I couldn’t stop looking at his lips, his tattoos, his body—this felt the scariest. This raw vulnerability, this connection. Because I wasn’t just seeing Josh as an attractive person, or a set of muscles and a hot body to fuck.

Actually, it felt more like I was falling for him. The sum total of him, which was so much greater than all of the lovely things about him. And as I realized this, I felt almost dizzy, and completely out of control.

Because that was territory that I had never known with any other man. And it made my heart feel like it was going to beat out of my chest.