A violently loud ringing startled Elizabeth out of her thoughts. Derrick chuckled to himself and sighed as he answered his phone, “Page speaking.” His face darkened, and worry lines wrinkled his forehead. “Let me know if anything changes.” He ended the call and scratched the stubble on his chin.
“Is everything okay?” She lowered the water bottle from her lips and looked at him with concern thinly veiling the euphoria in her chest.
“That was the pilot. A severe storm is rolling in, so we can’t fly home right now. He’s supposed to watch the weather and update me if anything changes.” He glanced from his intern to the photographer, “Excuse me for a moment, I need to go make some arrangements.”
Elizabeth noted his shoulders were drooping slightly as he stepped away from them. They couldn’t fly home? Now what? She was never going to get her furniture delivered at this rate. Not only that, but moving had been expensive. Her first paycheck wouldn’t be in for another week at least. She didn’t have the money right now to stay in a hotel. He had just sprung all of this on her, and now they were stranded away from home. The butterflies in her stomach were joined with angry bumble bees of aggravation.
“Would you like to see?” Charlemagne swiveled towards her in a computer chair.
“Hmm?” She had zoned out again.
“The pictures. Would you like to see them?”
“Oh! Yes.”
He pulled up several images to let her see. It was amazing. She had never seen herself look so glamorous. It was hard to believe it was really her. Nervously, her eyes landed on the final image. The way Derrick looked at her could easily be mistaken for desire if you didn’t know any better. She tilted her head to the side and smile wistfully.
“You two make a handsome couple.”
Charlemagne’s words caused a small wave of panic to roll over her. “Oh, no. Pssh. No, we don’t. I mean, look he’s got that…” She struggled to find an appropriate insult.
“Obnoxiously perfect smirk and square jaw?” Char’s eyes sparkled. “How horrible.”
She groaned inwardly, “Exactly.”
“Lizzie, gather your things.” Derrick’s voice echoed across the room, breaking into their conversation. He didn’t like how closely she was standing to the photographer. He had other things to worry about right now, and he didn’t need that distraction.
“Where are we going?”
“I had our hotel in town set aside some rooms for us.” He held out his hand to give Char a polite hand shake. “Send the images over to my PR department after you finish touching them up. Thank you for fitting us in so quickly. We really need to get this rolling as soon as possible to make the best of her viral internet fan base.”
“Not a problem. I’ll have them to you tomorrow at the latest.” He turned to Elizabeth, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Adams.”
“You, too.” She smiled sincerely and followed Derrick into the elevator.
“You did well today, but don’t go letting this go to your head.”
She sensed he was upset about something. The air around him felt cold. “I won’t. Mr. Page?” She bit her lip.
“What is it, Miss Adams?”
Embarrassment colored her cheeks, and she looked down. “I can’t afford a hotel room right now. Are you sure they can’t just fly us home? Is the weather really that bad?”
“Lizzie,” he sighed, “it’s my company. You won’t be paying for your room. This is a business trip and a business expense. I wouldn’t make you pay for something like that.”
“Oh. Thank you.” She hadn’t even thought of that.
The elevator chimed as they reached the first floor. Derrick walked briskly towards the doors. The sheer amount of tall, beautiful women around them was astonishing, but he didn’t even glance at them. He was distracted by something. Did the upcoming storm make him that upset? Elizabeth fiddled with the fabric of her dress.
The wind outside bellowed around the buildings. Darkness loomed above them, menacingly. Her hair whipped around her face and caught in her lip gloss. Derrick ushered her inside the car that was waiting for them before running around and getting in himself. As soon as his door was closed, droplets of rain began to pound against the hood of the car. They left behind large splatters that the windshield wipers fought to keep at bay.
Derrick chuckled at her. Her mouth was gaping open at how quickly the weather had escalated. “Here, let me help you.” He reached up and pulled the strand of hair that had gotten stuck to her lip away from her face. The windswept look wasn’t glamourous like in magazines or movies, but somehow on her it was even more beautiful than that. Her hair was a mangled mess, but it didn’t destroy the illusion for him. The chaos seemed to suit her. He was lucky they had gotten to the photoshoot before the storm hit, or she would have needed some major touch ups.
“This is insane!” Elizabeth stared out the windows. Her head was on a swivel. Storms made her uneasy.
“It’s just a little rain.”
“Yeah, and Pompeii was just a little a little ash. Seriously, look at the streets!” Water was already streaming down the sides of the roads and pooling against the edges of the sidewalks.
“You’ll be fine.” He sounded as if he were reassuring a child that the sky wasn’t falling.
The car pulled up to a hotel made with the same crisp steel and black walls as their office back home. Derrick opened his door and darted out to open hers. A little hesitantly, she stared up at him, unwilling to go out into the storm. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist, pulling her after him. They ran into the lobby. Water dripped off of them. Elizabeth was drenched. Her eyes glanced up at him. His wet hair reminded her of the night her sprinkler system sprayed him. His shirt clung to his body, and she could just make out the dark ink on his skin through the now semi-transparent white button up he wore.
Their footsteps left behind a sodden trail with every step. Derrick walked up to the front desk. The concierge smiled brilliantly at them and handed them both a towel, “Welcome, Mr. Page. Here are your room keys.”
“Thank you. Could you please have someone put out a wet floor sign until the rain stops? I want someone to mop it up after every guest that comes in as a precaution. I don’t want someone to slip.”
“Right away, sir.” She picked up the reception desk phone and dialed a number.
Derrick passed Elizabeth a small envelope with a hotel keycard nestled inside. “This one will be your room.”
“Thank you.”
He led her to another elevator and up to the third floor. Abstract paintings and a large vase holding exotic reeds and orchids greeted them on the landing. Elizabeth started to walk towards her room when she noticed that he had stepped out of the elevator as well. Derrick slipped his own keycard into a room cattycorner to her own.
“You’re here, too?”
“Where else would I be?”
“I just thought, since it’s your hotel, that you would be in a suite.”
Derrick paused a moment before answering. “I would not give one of my guests a room that I would not enjoy staying in. If I stayed in a suite, that would take that room away from a guest. Besides, staying in a normal room allows me to have the opportunity to look for improvements that can be made.”
“That makes sense.” He was much more thoughtful than she gave him credit for. He really did care about his customers. She turned and placed her keycard in her own room. A loud growl gurgled forth from her stomach. Placing her hand on her tummy, she realized how hungry she was.
Derrick sighed, “Why didn’t you tell me you were hungry?” Her eyes widened. “I could hear your stomach from here. Go check out your room, and then we can go grab something to eat. Don’t worry about money. Food falls under business expenses, too.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” He had already taken care of her hotel room. This seemed like too much.
“I won’t let you starve. If you die, my social media consultant will have a fit. Go check out your room, and then let’s go. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Elizabeth nodded and slipped into her room. The interior was silver and black with a violet orchid nestled next to a flat screen television. Crisp, white linens draped over the bed. The furniture was modern and elegant in design. She laid down for a second. The bed cradled her. “This is so much better than the floor.”
“Lizzie?” Derrick called out to her through the door. “Are you ready?”
“No,” she mumbled to herself not wanting to get up.
“What was that?”
“Coming!” She slid off the bed and picked herself up.
He was leaning against the door frame when she opened it. The closeness of his face made her pull back a little. He watched as she blinked up at him, startled. If he listened hard enough, he thought he could almost hear her heart pounding in her chest. With any other woman, he would have grabbed her waist with one hand and her hair with the other, pressing her back against the wall in one swift motion. He could picture it in his head. The look on her face. The quick gasp as her body pressed against his.
Derrick cleared his throat and pushed away from the door before his fantasy got away from him. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Not that it mattered. She was too hungry to care.
“There’s a restaurant down stairs. I thought that would be better than going back out in the storm.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
The elevator carried them back to the first floor. Classical music drifted through the lobby. A waiter led them to a candle lit table near a window and handed them menus. Rain battered against the glass. “What will you be drinking tonight?”
“Could you bring us a bottle of wine, please?”
“Of course, sir.”
After the waiter left, Elizabeth leaned in, “You didn’t tell him what wine you wanted.”
Derrick leaned in to match her stance, “Chad has a sticky note with my preferences behind the bar. He likes to make me think he remembers it. I like to let him keep that illusion.”
“You are such a surprisingly nice guy.”
Derrick pulled back, “Why is that surprising?”
Elizabeth tried to back pedal, “No, I just mean, most guys in your situation would be really full of themselves. You genuinely care about people. That’s all I meant.” Outside, a streak of lightening blazed across the sky. Thunder rattled the window. Elizabeth flinched and whimpered.
“So, why don’t you like storms?” He wanted to reach across the table to comfort her, but that would be crossing the boundary. Employees were off limits. It wasn’t a company policy. It was a line he had drawn for himself long ago.
“Who said I didn’t like storms?” Thunder rumbled again, and she curled into herself more.
“Lizzie, you just said that I care about people. We are here having a nice dinner. We might as well talk. Tell me.”
She bit her lip and stared at the table as she took a deep breath. “When I was little, my parents took me camping. I was out playing in the woods when a storm came up. It was a new place, and I got lost. I tried to call out for help, but the thunder drowned out my voice. I was alone and scared and after a while, I realized that no one was coming for me. Some forest rangers found me the next day.” Her voice broke as she remembered that day. “Lightning had struck a tree near our campsite, and it had fallen on top of our tent. My parents had a few broken bones from being pinned under the tree, but they were mostly okay. It was just a really scary experience for me. I never really got over it.”
“No wonder you don’t like them.” Derrick looked up as the waiter came back with a bottle of red wine. “Would it be possible for us to move to that table? I’m getting a bit of a migraine, and the lightening is making it worse.” He pointed to a table furthest away from the windows. Elizabeth was caught off guard. He was taking the blame for the inconvenience without making her fear known. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.
“Certainly, sir.” The waiter carried their menus to the new table and helped them choose dishes to suit their tastes.
“That was really nice of you. Thank you.” She couldn’t help the butterflies flitting in her stomach. It was the first decent moment she could remember during a storm. She was still uneasy, but it was more tolerable now.
“Not a problem.” Derrick took a sip of wine. He wanted to protect her. Moving tables was the most comfort he could offer her without holding her. He could still smell her perfume and feel her hand on his chest from earlier. He was confident he could escalate things between them if he wanted to. The desire was growing inside of him, and the wine only made it harder to resist. He needed to get his mind off her. He needed a distraction. A redhead at the bar caught his eye.