Mr. Grayson quickly became infamous around the hotel. The first night made him so angry that every single day there was a new issue with his room. He nitpicked everything, and it was always when I was on duty. The concierge desk emptied at five, leaving the reception desk to answer his calls, meaning I was always the one who had to deal with him.
Lucky me.
Normally, I was pretty invisible to guests, but Mr. Grayson was dialed in to me. My experiences with him were the first time I’d wanted to punch someone. In all my twenty-five years, I had never met anyone as infuriating as Gavin Grayson.
“The tourism guide has been defaced. Bring up a new one with no scribbles,” he said on day two.
I blinked and looked down at the phone before replying. “I’ll be right up, sir.”
On day four, he called to tell me, “I have no washcloths.”
My smile was plastered on, but I knew it was no longer in my voice. “I’ll have housekeeping bring you some right away.”
It only took a few days until I was no longer delegating the responsibility of delivering whatever was missing or needed replacing, but rather I was the one knocking on his door with whatever he requested.
“There is only one sugar packet, Emma. I need two more,” he complained on day seven.
I ground my teeth. “Right away, Mr. Grayson.” More sugar wasn’t going to make him the least bit sweeter.
Every time I saw him, I was gobsmacked by his good looks, even when he was glaring at me. I hated the way it made my heart speed up. Even more, I hated the butterflies that fluttered in anticipation each time I was about to see him.
If I disliked him so much, why was I reacting that way?
“I can talk to him,” James said as we sat in the lobby Starbucks.
“Really, it’s fine,” I stressed. The last thing I wanted was for James to confront him. The man was demanding, and I could deal with him on my own.
“No, it’s not fine. His behavior is unacceptable,” James said, his forehead furrowed, and his jaw ticked. It wasn’t often he let his anger show. “For fuck’s sake, you’re not his personal assistant, at his beck and call.”
“I can handle him.” I leaned forward to try and catch his eye. It worked, and he seemed to calm down a little bit. “He’s just nitpicky and rude. Besides, he’ll be gone soon.”
“I still don’t like it,” he grumbled.
“That’s fine, but it won’t even be an issue soon. We’ll look back on it one day and laugh.”
He grimaced. “I’m not laughing now.” He blew out a breath and reached out, placing his hand on mine. “I know I have no claim over you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not protective of you.”
The warmth from his hand was comforting and sent tingles through me. They reached my chest, but something was off. The blossoming in my chest didn’t seem as full and expansive as it normally was when James touched me.
“I know,” I said, giving him a smile. “Come on. Your break is over, and I need to get home.”
We got up and headed back to the reception desk. As we walked across the expansive lobby, a familiar figure came into view. Mr. Grayson was entering from the parking garage. My heart started doing double time as I watched him head straight toward the elevators. He shot a quick glance at us, but I couldn’t stop watching as he got onto an awaiting elevator. Our eyes locked, and a wave of heat flowed through me.
“What kind of mood do you think he’s in?” James asked, pulling me away from Mr. Grayson’s intensity.
“Not a good one. Good luck tonight.”
He let out a groan. “I can’t stand him.”
“Just breathe, and remember, it’s only a few more days. Then you’ll never see him again.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
“I wonder who he works for,” I said. It was obvious he was high up on the totem pole, wherever it was.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“He’s the VP of the Cates Corporation. Next in line to be CEO. I heard he was the head of the New York offices, but since he’s moving up, it was time to come back to headquarters.”
Cates was a huge business consulting and technology company. The hotel had hosted a few of their functions over the years. Mr. Grayson seemed young to be taking over such a position, but with his attitude, I wasn’t surprised.
We stepped into the office, and I headed toward the hall the led to the break room when James reached out and pulled me so my back was against his chest. The sudden movement caught me off guard, and I froze.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You surprised me.” James hadn’t touched me like that since our last date three years ago.
“Sorry, I just . . . Can’t we just start now, in secret? Be a couple?” His breath was hot against my neck, sending tingles through me. Once again, I noticed a reduced response to him. It was still there, the urge to pull him close and kiss him as the heat flared inside me, but it wasn’t the normal blaze.
“No,” I said with a sigh.
He groaned against my skin. “Why do you have to be so levelheaded when I’m dying over here?”
He wasn’t the only one. “Because I have to finish this program, and if we start dating now, my grades will tank. I’ve worked too hard to let anything stop me.”
He nodded and released me while stepping back. “You’re right. I would definitely distract you and try to monopolize your free time. I’m sorry.”
I turned to him, and my chest began to ache. It was so hard turning him down. “This isn’t easy for me, either.”
“I know. I’m just selfish.”
“Why selfish?”
He gave me a shy smile. “After three years, you’re still the only woman I think about. We didn’t get a fair chance back then, and I’ve been waiting so long to try again.”
“Just hold on a few more months.”
He nodded. “I can do that.”
My lips turned up into a smile, and his did the same. “Have a good night.”
“You, too,” he said with a wave.
After getting my things from my locker, I headed toward the parking garage. It was hard having those conversations with James, because each one broke me down more and more. I wasn’t going to think about the strange lack of response I felt, chalking it up to PMS.
At the same time, just one look from Mr. Grayson held more fire than James’s touch.
There was nothing wrong with that. Mr. Grayson was just a hot guy. Why wouldn’t my pulse speed up when he was around? It was normal. Healthy, even. And not a hiccup in my path. No, Mr. Grayson was just a guest, nothing more.
When I got to my car, I pulled out my phone and noticed the date. Crap. I hadn’t talked to my parents since February, and March was closing up.
Not wanting to forget, I pulled up my contacts and hit send. It rang a few times before the click of someone answering.
“Hello?”
“Hi Dad,” I said into the receiver.
“Emmybear! How are you doing?” His voice was instantly happier than it had been when he answered.
Calling my parents had become a couple-times-a-month thing, and like always, hearing my dad’s voice was soothing.
“Busy as usual.”
“How are your classes going?” he asked.
“Almost over.” That alone was a huge bright spot. Years of hard work and sacrifice were coming to a close.
“And then that’s it? MBA?”
“MBA.”
“I’m so proud of you, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help you.”
“Daddy, don’t worry. I worked hard, just like you taught me, and I did it and only missed a meal or two,” I said, trying to cheer him up. It was the truth. It was hard, but I always had a place to lay my head and a meal to fill my belly. I sacrificed in other ways—friends and other relationships. Most of my college friends moved away after graduation, and those who were still in Boston were just as busy as I was.
“Still, when we moved out here I had every intention of helping you out financially. I’ve barely seen you because you’ve been forced to work so much.”
They moved hundreds of miles away for my dad to get a higher-paying job, only for the company to fold a year later. The recession had improved, but he still had trouble finding a job there or back home. I hadn’t even seen my parents in over two years, having been forced to work most holidays.
“Hopefully that will change and I can come visit you soon.”
“I would love that.” I really would. I missed my parents so much.
I missed his hugs. Then again, I missed any hugs. The lack of physical contact of any kind was depressing. I craved that connection desperately. When James had wrapped his arms around me, it was the first type of hug I’d gotten in a year or more.
“How’s everything else there? Any job prospects after graduation? Men in your life?”
“No prospects yet, but the school is helping me. As for men . . .” James weighed heavy in my chest. I just wasn’t sure if it was feelings built up over years of thinking about it or something real. “There is someone, but we’ll see what happens with that.”
“Well, hopefully I’ll get to hear more on that next time,” he said with a chuckle.
“Is Mom there?” I asked.
“She’s at work. Can she call you when she gets home? Or are you going to be working?”
“I’ll be in class, but I’ll catch up with her on the weekend.”
“Sounds good. Love you, Emmybear.”
“Love you, too, Daddy.” I hit the end button and let out a sigh at the same time. Another night ahead of me. I couldn’t wait to be done with school, because I was tired down to my bones.
The saying about burning the candle at both ends? Well, all the wax was gone, and my flames were about to meet.
Every night there seemed to be some complaint from Mr. Grayson, but on the ninth night all was quiet. The clock neared eleven, which signaled one hour left until the end of my shift when I would be handing the reins off to Rob, the overnight manager. There was only a small amount of time before I would have my first night free of Mr. Grayson’s complaints.
“Nothing?” Shannon asked as she crossed the lobby with one last cup of coffee from the lobby Starbucks. They were closed, but Shannon was friends with one of the girls that worked there and was able to get her hands on another cup while they cleaned up.
“Not yet.” I was about to say something else when the phone beside me rang. I glanced down, a familiar number flashing on the screen, then glared up at Shannon. “You did this.”
She held up her hands, eyes wide. “I’m sorry!”
I blew out a breath, then picked up the receiver. “Good evening, Mr. Grayson.”
“There is a fucking party going on in the room next to me. Shut them the fuck up!”
I had to pull the phone away from my ear as he yelled, clearly more agitated than normal.
“Right away, Mr. Grayson.” I hung up the phone and looked at Shannon. “Does he do this when I’m not here, or am I just lucky?”
She nodded. “I heard he cracked James’s perfect smile yesterday.”
“Insufferable,” I mumbled as I stepped around the desk. “I’ll be right back.”
“Good luck!” she called as the elevator doors closed.
Due to the ire I’d heard in his voice, I figured the party must be really loud. The hotel was built with great sound barriers between rooms to make sure guests slept their best.
The music was loud enough that I heard it almost to the elevators. I was surprised Mr. Grayson was the only one who complained. The realization dawned on me that he didn’t tell me which room it was, but by the volume of the music, it wasn’t hard to figure out.
I rapped swiftly with my knuckles on the door and waited. There was a cascade of laughter on the other side, but no response. The second time I knocked much harder, making sure they took notice. When the laughter died down, I knew I’d been heard.
The door swung open, and I was greeted by a guy that looked to be around my age, maybe a little older. There was a beer bottle in his hand and a big smile on his face.
“Hey, sweet thing,” he said, somehow sounding smooth though I could tell he was drunk.
“Good evening. We’ve received a few noise complaints and need you to turn the music down.”
“It’s a party, baby. There’s got to be music,” he said before holding his arms out and gyrating his hips at me.
“Party or not, you’re being too loud and we have guests that are trying to sleep.”
“Just listen to her and shut up,” a gruff male voice called from down the hall. The sound lit up every nerve ending as it traveled down my spine.
Fifteen feet away in front of his door was Mr. Grayson, standing in nothing but a set of plaid sleep shorts. My mouth dropped open as an unfamiliar, warm feeling spread through me at the view of his bare chest and just how fit he was. His hair was not in its usual impeccable style, but sticking up in every direction. The frown he wore was something I was very familiar with, but it gave him a gruff sexiness.
“Shut the fucking music off. Some people are trying to sleep,” Mr. Grayson growled, clearly aggravated.
“Whatever, man,” the drunk guy said.
I looked back to the occupant, noticing that his four friends were snickering. “Turn it down, and keep it down, or I will be forced to remove you.”
“Bitch, we paid. You can’t do shit!” one of the occupants yelled out.
The guy at the door wore a smug smile. “Maybe you can come in and help us quiet down.”
In my periphery, Mr. Grayson took a step forward. “Don’t talk to her that way.”
“Dude, go back to bed. We just want to have some fun,” the creep said as he wrapped his arm around my waist.
It stunned me, and took me a second before I realized what was happening, and then I was pushing against his chest. He was laughing, but I didn’t have time to react further before Mr. Grayson ripped the creep’s hand from me and pinned it behind the guy’s back as he pressed him against the wall. His bottle of beer fell to the floor, spilling some of the leftover contents onto the carpet.
“Don’t touch her,” Mr. Grayson spat. “She isn’t some street whore.”
My heart slammed in my chest as I watched him manhandle the guy. I had to admit, it was a turn-on. Especially knowing it was in my defense.
The creep struggled to get out of his grip, but Mr. Grayson only held him tighter. “Get off me, man!”
“All she is asking is for you to quiet down so that I am not up her ass about the noise. It is not an invitation for you to hit on her or touch her in any way. Do you understand?”
All of his friends stayed in their place in the room, watching the events unfold.
“Let me go,” was the guy’s only response.
Mr. Grayson moved his arm, tightening his grip as he pulled more, making the creep wince in pain.
“I said, do you understand?”
“Yeah . . . y-yes!”
Mr. Grayson released his hand as he shoved him back into the room. They closed the door, and the music immediately died down. He came over, stopping in front of me.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he looked me over before his eyes locked onto mine.
It was the first time I’d been close enough to notice his eyes. While there wasn’t much noticeable difference from a few feet away, with barely a foot separating us, the color difference between his eyes was obvious. He had heterochromia—his right eye was a crystal-clear sea blue, while his left eye was green.
“What?” he asked, noticing my pause.
“Your eyes . . .” My gaze flashed between the two, bouncing between them to compare. “Your eyes are beautiful. I hadn’t noticed before.”
The tightness in his features relaxed. It was only a brief moment before they hardened again and he stepped back. “Yes, this entire hotel staff seems not to notice a lot of things.” With that, he headed toward his door.
“Thank you very much for your help, but I could have managed without it,” I said to his back.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Perhaps, but sometimes it takes a strong hand to handle those who are out of control.”
“Do you use force often?”
That stopped him, and he turned back to me. “Physically? No. There are other ways to get people to do what I want.”
“Like yelling at them.”
He didn’t respond as he stepped back into his room. “Goodnight, Emma.” Then the door slammed.
“Goodnight, Mr. Moody,” I said before heading down the hall toward the elevator. I needed to find Miguel and file a report about the room next to him.
Still, even though he was cold as per the usual, there was something about the way he came to my defense that had warmed me up to the man. At least a little, anyway. Especially my body.