The alarm went off, startling me awake. I was disoriented. What day was it? What time? The clock read nine, but was that morning or night?
I went through a list.
Groceries? Done. Homework? Done. Work?
I let out a sigh and pulled the blanket over my head. Oh, that was why the alarm was going off.
One day. That was all I wanted. Just one day that was free of both school and work. One day to stay curled on the couch with takeout and binge Netflix.
At least Mr. Grayson’s reservation was almost over and there would only be a few more days of dealing with him.
With a groan, I peeled myself out of bed. I hated third shift. Nothing like going to work in the middle of the night and coming home when the sun was creeping into the sky. Each step to the shower was torture. I had taken about a three-hour nap, but it just seemed to have made me more tired.
Instead of being awake, I was a zombie. A quick shower didn’t help, and my body was still sluggish as I walked to the kitchen in search of something that would help. Inside the fridge, I found a Rockstar Energy Drink and began eagerly sucking it down.
With a few ounces in me, I returned to getting ready. It took a few minutes, but I began to feel more and more human with each sip. Once dressed, I returned to the kitchen to grab another for work.
“Shit,” I hissed as I looked to find there were no more. I’d just gone to the grocery that afternoon, so how could I have forgotten?
Starbucks was closed and didn’t open until almost six. I wasn’t sure I could hold out that long without my head falling onto the desk. Nothing I could do about it, so I was stuck with the half a can I still had left. Hopefully it would do. There was a coffee maker in the break room, but I hated coffee that wasn’t watered down with steamed milk and some vanilla.
The can was completely empty by the time I pulled into the parking garage. At least I finally felt awake and energized. Being almost eleven, everything was quiet as I headed toward the office. If it’d been a Friday or Saturday, things would be different, but it was Wednesday. There were bound to be a few stragglers at the bar, but the lobby was going to be empty.
When I entered the office, James was headed toward the door I’d just come through, and his eyes popped open in surprise.
“Good evening,” I said with my arms open wide like I was presenting myself.
James chuckled and shook his head. “That’s an invitation.”
“An invitation for what?”
He stepped forward and leaned down to my ear, his hand resting on my hip. “For me to wrap my arms around you.”
“All touchy touchy.” I giggled.
He furrowed his brow at me. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. “I had a Rockstar, and I’m tired. Think I’m a bit slap happy.”
He chuckled at me and shook his head. “That’ll do it.”
“So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?”
“Reports.”
“Yay,” I said with little enthusiasm and a roll of my eyes. “That won’t put me back to sleep or anything.”
He shrugged. “I have a task for you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“And it’s more than looking beautiful.”
I couldn’t help the blush that spread on my cheeks. “James . . .”
“Okay, in seriousness . . .” he reached over to grab a small stack of papers “. . . when Valeria gets in, I need you have her double-check this inventory and product list ASAP. Miguel is going to send out the order as soon as he gets in at seven.”
“Got it.”
Caleb arrived a few minutes before James headed out the door. Once he was gone, it was just the two of us. The nights were normally pretty quiet. We used the time for tidying up the front desk, dealing with the occasional request or drunk, and watching the late night partiers crawl in.
The hotel bar closed at one, and after that, silence. It was a drag, and I found myself napping on my break only to be startled awake by my alarm.
“Slap me,” Caleb said around four.
“Can’t, I’m your boss.”
He let out a groan and then whipped his hand across his face, tousling his perfectly styled dark brown hair. The smack resonated around the silent lobby.
“Ow,” he said.
His cheek started to turn red, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did it at least help?”
The corners of his lips turned down and his bottom lip jutted out. “No.”
I slipped off my heels, my feet killing me, and let out a sigh.
“Whoa, when did you get short?” he asked, his brown eyes wide.
Normally, Caleb and I were eye to eye, but with my shoes off, I was my regular five feet, five inches.
“Ha, ha,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“I hate third shift,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
“Ditto.”
The hours that followed continued to drag on, but around five thirty, activity started to pick up in the lobby.
Just before six, I headed toward Valeria’s office. I was just passing the fitness center when something caught my eye, causing me to stop. A very familiar man was working out and looking very different than when I normally encountered him.
It was Mr. Grayson. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed as he pulled on the handles of the cable crossover frame, the weights rising and falling with his movement. It was hypnotizing. I couldn’t stop watching him, and my heartbeat increased while the blood pumped in my veins in time with his movement.
At least watching him I understood how he’d handled the creep from two nights prior. He was very fit, but I saw how strong he was as well. Not bulky like some of the meatheads I’d seen, but lean with broad shoulders.
I was lost in a trance when he looked up and our eyes met through the glass. The force of his stare startled me, and I made an embarrassing little jump before continuing on my way down the hall.
What was wrong with me? The man was infuriating and maddening and drove me crazy, but one look at him and for a few seconds I forgot all that.
Looks shouldn’t trump attitude, but somehow, his did. Which left me a weird mess of confused and turned on. Again, him coming to my aid all shirtless and manly and peeling that creep off me . . .
My hormones were a mess. Maybe my period was near or I was ovulating. Something had to explain my irrational responses to him, because I’d never had such a strong reaction to any man before, even James.
I shouldn’t get caught up in strange hormonal reactions to asshole guests that were going to be gone soon.
But that was when the doubt started to creep in. What if my desire to be with James was only a product of what-ifs? I liked him, there was no doubt there, but was there more than like?
Valeria sighed as I entered her office. “What now? Haven’t I bent over backwards enough for that man?”
I held up my hands and pursed my lips. “He’s very particular.”
“He’s a diva, Emma.”
“I’m not arguing. I’m the one that deals with most of his complaints.”
“What is it now?” she grumbled.
I knew that Mr. Grayson had made a reputation for himself, but his high standards seemed to hit Valeria hardest.
“It’s not him.”
“No? Then why are you down here?”
I held up the papers. “Inventory and reorder of Cameo logo material. I need you to double-check the numbers.”
She blew out a breath and took the sheets from me. “Why can’t we all do this on our own?”
I shrugged. “Company policy.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just a colossal pain.”
She checked her computer against the list and made a few corrections and notations.
Valeria’s black hair fell out of her loose ponytail, her glasses slipping off the end of her nose. Normally, she was very put together, but I’d heard that her youngest was sick, which probably accounted for the less-than-pristine look. At only around five feet tall, new employees assumed she was harmless. Small but stern, she fired faster than any manager, which was why I was surprised by the pass she’d given to whomever released the floor of doom a few weeks back.
She’d been with the hotel for a decade, starting when she had taken classes for a hospitality degree. Her end goal was to take Phillip, the hotel manager’s, job. I was certain she’d be better at it than he was.
“Is Miguel sending it in?” she asked after a few minutes.
“As soon as he gets in.”
“Good. That means we should have everything by the end of the week.” She handed the order form back to me. “Thanks, Emma.”
“No problem. Word of warning, don’t go near the fitness center for a little while.”
That piqued her interest. “Oh?”
“Mr. Demanding is in there.”
“Well, now I have to go just to see.” She slipped off her glasses and stood as she attempted to wrangle her hair into something presentable. She pretended to need to walk back to the front with me. “Ay, papi,” she whispered as we slowly passed by the large glass windows. “That’s him?”
I nodded, engrossed in watching the new angle he was working. “So nice to look at, but that mouth.”
“Isn’t that what duct tape is for?” she said as we continued down the hall.
“Oh, my God, now I’m having thoughts of him scowling while . . . you are so bad!” I laughed. I glanced over, an electric shock running through me as I found him staring at me. My lips parted as I drew in a sharp breath, my cheeks warming.
“Ooh, Mr. Santos is getting some tonight.”
I understood where she was coming from. Watching Mr. Grayson was an aphrodisiac, and it was turning me on. The way he looked at me didn’t help.
After making up a fake excuse, Valeria headed back to her office, fanning herself with each step.
Less than two hours later, I kicked my apartment door closed, pulled my clothes off, and fell into bed to get some sleep before my afternoon class.
The next day I went in for my normal second shift, happy to have gotten a full night’s sleep, even if it was three in the morning by the time I got to sleep. Sleeping after third shift always made it difficult to get back to normal. At least I’d gotten a good chunk done on my final project.
There were only three days left on Mr. Grayson’s reservation, and I was going to be so happy when things returned to normal.
Normally the phone ringing wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but when Shannon backed up and shook her head, I knew who it was.
“I can’t talk to people like him,” Shannon said, her back against the wall as she stared down at the phone in horror. Angry customers left her flustered, and after the first night, she was scared of even the possibility of a confrontation with him.
“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” I took a steadying breath, plastered on a smile, and answered the phone. “Good evening, Mr. Grayson,” I said into the receiver.
“I want a cheeseburger.” No pleasantries, straight to the point.
Oh, good. Somebody else’s problem. “Let me connect you with room service.”
“No. I want you to handle it.”
The vein in my forehead began to throb. “Sir?”
“They fucked it up last night,” he grumbled. “I want it right, and I want you to make sure it’s right and delivered as soon as it’s done.”
His demands were going above and beyond my duties, but I’d do anything to keep him happy and not yelling.
I held my hand over the receiver and closed my eyes as I took a deep breath. “Of course. What would you like?”
After taking down his order, I left Shannon to man the front while I headed over to the kitchen.
“Hey, Emma,” Omar, the head chef, called as I entered.
“Hi, Omar,” I said with a smile.
He was expertly cutting up some vegetables at a speed I would never attempt unless I wanted a trip to the emergency room. “What brings you down here?”
“I have a special request from a guest, and I need it made precisely as he wants it.”
With a quick swipe, the vegetable joined a large stainless steel bowl with some waiting ingredients. “Is this the guest I’ve been hearing about?”
“His infamous status has reached even back here?”
He grinned as he wiped his hands off. “This isn’t his first room service order.”
“Ah, yes, he did mention something about an order.” I used to think I was the only one that took the brunt of his demands, but it became obvious I wasn’t the only one—just the only one face to face.
“What can I get for you?” he asked.
“I need a cheeseburger and fries,” I said before diving into the list of specifications. “Cooked medium, not under, not over. One slice of sharp cheddar cheese, three strips of bacon, mayo, ketchup, pickles, white onions not red, and tomato on a toasted cornmeal bun.”
“Because that’s not specific enough,” he said with a shake of his head as he headed to the walk-in to pull out ingredients.
“Tell me about it. There’s more.” I glanced down at my paper. “Fries need to be hot and crisp when I take it up. No funny business, please. For my sanity, make it exactly as he requests.”
“Got it. I’ll let you know when it goes up.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” I said, halting him as I shook my head. “I have to wait and take it up myself.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, because if it’s not right, I’ll be coming right back down.” I plastered a fake smile on my face while Omar shook his head.
Omar didn’t pass the order off, and instead, made the entire thing himself.
“Hopefully that satisfies the king,” he said as he laid the plate down on the cart.
“Thank you, Omar.”
“Don’t take no shit from him.”
The corner of my lip slid up. “From him? Never.”
“Good girl. Now go on before his fries cool down.”
With one last wave, I headed to the service elevator and up to his floor. The ride was short without evening activity creating stops. As I pushed the tray down the hall, I prayed that it was exactly as he wanted it. The last thing I needed was more of his mouth.
After a swift knock the door swung open and, as always, I was stunned by how overwhelming he was. Still in his slacks, vest, and dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the tie and jacket were gone. The sight, along with his presence, sent the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. It was all overpowering when I was near him.
Why did the first man to make me feel this way have to have the worst personality?
“Emma.” He stepped aside and held the door open for me, which seemed a little odd.
I picked up the tray with some difficulty as I attempted to not spill the drinks, and headed in. “Where would you like it?”
“The desk is fine.”
I set the tray down and straightened up, eager to leave. “Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?”
“Wait,” he said, stopping me from pushing past him and getting the hell away.
I clasped my hands in front of me and stood watching as he lifted the covers, a low hum of appreciation rumbling as he looked it over. First, he tried out a fry, seemingly pleased with its state, then he picked up the burger.
The second he bit in, he began to moan. The sound was bordering on erotic and sent a tingle down my spine and heat pooling between my legs.
What the hell?
“Perfect,” he said, his voice low and, for the first time, appreciative. “Now this is a good burger.” Another bite, and another moan left me weak. “Good job, Emma. I knew you would get it right.”
A compliment? After so long, I hadn’t been sure he was capable of such a thing.
I had to focus on that because I wasn’t sure why I was having such an extreme reaction to him. That moan . . . that moan would do me in if he continued.
“Thank you, sir. Will that be all?” I needed to get away from him and the magnetism that surrounded him.
He shook his head as he took yet another bite. “Who made this? Because I need him to make me one every night.”
“Every night?”
His eyes went wide for a fraction of a second before he cleared his throat. “I may have a bacon cheeseburger obsession.”
“If this is your reaction to a cheeseburger, please let me know what else gives you pleasure and I will do everything I can to get it for you.”
He stared at me, his eyes somehow darker, heavier as he sucked some of the juice from the pad of his thumb. I froze, almost as if I was trapped within the intoxicating vibes he was giving off.
“There are many things that give me pleasure, Emma.” The gravel tone of his words had my brain short circuiting, especially since our eyes were locked.
I couldn’t look away, couldn’t think of any response, but instead was stuck in place, hypnotized, feeling my face heat up. “What would those be, sir?” I asked, my voice barely a breathy whisper.
Another low moan, but this time not from the cheeseburger. “Get out of here.”
I blinked at him, confused as he sat at the desk, his attention focused on the tray. My dismissal was obvious, but I was still stunned at the sudden shift in his mood. It took a second for that to wear off, and my feet began to move, carrying me away from him.
When I got back to the lobby, I ran to the restroom to try and cool down. In the mirror, my whole face was pink. He hadn’t touched me, but I was burning for him to. That look, the way he’d licked the juice off his thumb, was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
The horror lay in realizing I’d never felt that to such a degree with James or anyone else.
I almost asked myself what I was going to do, but stopped. Mr. Grayson would soon be gone, and things would go back to normal. I would forget all about this feeling and chalk it up to his good looks and the fact he was probably teasing me just because he could.
“I heard you made him happy last night,” James said from behind me, his mouth close to my ear.
I turned and glanced around, making sure nobody was around. Not that we were doing anything wrong. Everyone was used to seeing us close, but even so, we were only inches apart.
It was odd—James was close, but my normal reactions to him were missing. Or maybe they were just dulled. There was little warmth or longing, the butterflies barely flapping their wings. I had thought the other night was a fluke. That I just wasn’t feeling well or something, but again, the lack of reaction was strange, especially considering how I felt ten feet from Mr. Grayson.
The finish line was in sight, and once I found another job, we wouldn’t be trapped. He knew it and I knew it, but for some reason the idea of being with him didn’t fill me with the same excitement it used to.
No, I knew now, though it was very hard to admit: the even more unavailable Gavin Grayson had somehow taken over James’s place.
Still, I smiled up at him. “About time I did something right.”
He let out a chuckle. “That asshole just doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Being a pain just to be one. I’m sorry you seem to take the brunt of it.”
“He seems to have taken a liking to beating me down. I wonder if he’s betting with himself when he’ll break me.”
“Never. Emma Addison is unbreakable.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“No problem.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. “Go out to dinner with me tomorrow.”
“James . . .”
“As friends.”
I shook my head. “You know that’s a lie.”
He let out a sigh and stepped back. “Yeah. I guess a guy can dream. I just . . . I feel like you’re somehow slipping away from me and I don’t know what to do.”
I wasn’t sure how to react or what to say. I’d felt the same way for about two weeks, slowly, ever since Gavin Grayson walked into the hotel.
“There’s a lot of pressure right now,” I finally said, not even sure I believed it.
He nodded. “That could be. I know you’ve got a lot of stress with school and then your bitch of a landlord raised your rent.”
“Yeah, I didn’t need that headache of trying to scrounge up an extra two hundred a month, especially since nothing else changed.” The whole rent thing was frustrating and infuriating. “It’s not like she upgraded anything.”
He shook his head. “Rent is ridiculous.”
“One entire paycheck now goes just to rent,” I grumbled. “If I didn’t have this job, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Move in with me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
His lip twitched up into a smirk. “With you? No. Plus, if you didn’t have this job, nobody would care if you lived with me.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I continued on my way out. “Good night.”
“Same to you.”
I shook my head and stepped out into the lobby to where Caleb and Jaqueline were, and away from the awkward way I felt after what James had said.
“How’s today?” I asked.
Jaqueline smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Pretty easy. There was a big luncheon in the Midas ballroom. Some fiiiine men came through. Mmm!”
It was pretty slow, but there were people coming in every few minutes to check in, and occasionally there would be a short line of a few guests.
An hour later, I let Jaqueline take her break.
“So, what’s with you and James?” Caleb asked once Jaqueline was gone.
I blinked at him. “What?”
“He’s super friendly with you. Touchy-feely, nice. Real looker with those blue eyes.”
“Fine. He likes me.” That wasn’t hard. But if he asked me more . . . my heart seemed to be turning on me, and it scared me.
“Are you two together?” he asked.
My mouth dropped open. “Caleb!”
He threw his hands up. “I’m just asking.”
“No,” I stressed. “That’s against company policy.”
“But you want to.”
My lips formed a thin line. “Maybe one day. For now, it’s flirting.”
I hoped that put Caleb off the subject, especially since I was having doubts. Why were things changing?