CHAPTER SEVEN
The sex diet—back to day one.
Opening the door to my office, I’m hit with a flurry of papers. Annie is moving, lifting, and shuffling everything in and on her desk. The paper storm is so bright I almost didn’t notice the strapless little dress she has on. Almost! I wonder if there’s a new man in her life. Her clothes have gone from comfortable casual to jaw dropping in a week flat. Her eyes catch mine, and a tear rolls down her cheek.
“Please don’t fire me,” she says quietly.
“What are you talking about?” I say and take her hand. “Annie, you know I’d never fire you.”
She leans her head on my chest, and I wrap one arm around her. “I lost some of your money.”
I lean back on her desk and tilt her chin up. She’s in a state already, and I don’t need to make her feel worse. I’m sure whatever happened was an accident. Annie would never steal from me or hurt me intentionally. “How much?”
“The check for Daphne,” she whispers. “I know I locked it in the office safe, but it’s not here. I was going to deliver it to her today.”
The check for Daphne isn’t that much money. It certainly isn’t going to break me. Annie knows that. “I gave it to Daphne last night,” I say. “You didn’t lose anything.”
Her head lifts, and she takes a step back. “Daphne was here last night? With you? In here? Alone?”
“She stopped by for the check.” And goodbye sex, but Annie doesn’t need to know that.
She looks down at her dress, running her hands along the fabric. “Well, that’s a relief. At least I didn’t lose it. Please tell me next time if you take something big like that out of the safe. I was worried sick.”
“Sorry, I should’ve told you.” She gives me a little nod and starts to clean up the mess on her desk. Damn, she looks disappointed or sad or pissed or relieved. I really can’t tell. Maybe it’s all of them. From the array of emotions to the outfit, she is obviously going through something. “So, we still on for tonight?” I ask. “Checking out The Brittany?”
She looks up briefly and motions to her outfit. “Why else would I be dressed like this?”
The sarcasm is my cue to get the hell out of dodge. I escape to the safety of my office and keep myself busy for the rest of the day. By six, I’m ready to head out.
It’s a nice evening and the other hotel is only a few blocks away, so Annie and I decide to walk. My romp with Daphne having worn off hours ago, I can feel the sexual tension mounting in my body. I hope the walk and fresh air will cool me down a bit.
“So how do you want to play this?” Annie asks.
“I just want to see the state of the place. Look around a little.”
“And I’m supposed to act like your girlfriend?”
I raise an eyebrow at her as we stop in front of the four-story building, a small boutique hotel like mine, nestled on the outskirts of the French Quarter. The location is prime. Close enough to the action, but far enough that you don’t get any of the noise. Or smells, for that matter. The outside is in good shape, doesn’t need much to restore it completely.
Annie slips her hand into mine. I look down at our intertwined fingers then up into her smile. “Ready to play?” I ask.
She gives me a nod, and I open the door for her. As we head inside, I immediately see a ton of work that needs to be done in the lobby alone. The floors are cracked and in need of polishing, if not replacement. The carpet is torn in certain places. The decor is from the eighties, I think, or maybe the seventies, or a combination of both.
How can someone market this place? My hotel is impeccable. The only modern things about this place are the front desk employees’ uniforms—steel blue and just tight enough to be sexy without being totally inappropriate. It’s an interesting choice, and whoever made it is pushing the envelope and ignoring standard industry practices.
We make our way through the lobby, toward a small bar leading into a restaurant. It isn’t in much better shape. The number of people hanging around doesn’t at all match the ailing atmosphere of the place. “Are they giving the rooms away for free?” Annie whispers, taking a seat on a torn leather barstool.
I stand beside her, and Annie taps my hand. “Stop eyeing everything. You look so obvious,” she says. “There’s a woman behind the concierge desk staring.” I glance that way, and sure enough, a smoking hot female is focused right on us.
Annie turns around in her chair and plays with my necktie. “We should play the part.”
I shift my attention to Annie, and she leans up and nuzzles my neck. She doesn’t kiss me, but her warm breath is enough to cause my body to heat. I run my hand around her neck and pull her mouth within an inch of mine. Her legs spread just slightly, but enough for me to notice. Enough for me to know that her body is into this. My dick certainly is, now pressing against my pants. I take her by the hips and pull her a little tighter, and sweet Jesus, she actually purrs.
“Excuse me,” the smoking hot female says, tapping my shoulder. “Are you guests of the hotel?”
Shit! We’ve blown our cover! Annie’s eyes are wide, and I’m not sure if it’s because we were caught or because of what almost happened between us. The last thing I need is for my competitors to get wind that I’m interested in the place. Better to keep a low profile. “Yes, we are guests. Is there a problem?”
She smiles politely at us. “No problem,” she says. “It’s nice to see a couple so enamored with each other, but that’s what the rooms are for.”
“Oh, we are so sorry,” Annie says, her skin bright red. “My boyfriend gets carried away.”
“Hard not to with you, honey,” I say, throwing up a little in my mouth. Do couples really talk this way? “We’ll take it upstairs.”
“Thank you,” she says.
Annie’s finger walks up my abs. “Damn, that was close,” she whispers.
I’m not sure if she’s talking about getting caught or us getting it on. Either way, I can’t have her touching me anymore. This is Annie, and Annie is off limits. Sure, she’s great and has a nice body, but she is also my right hand. I can’t lose her over a roll in the sheets. I take her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“We said we were going upstairs,” Annie says. “It will look odd if we leave now.”
“Let’s take the elevator up and look around. Maybe we can get a glimpse inside a room or two.”
Waiting at the elevator bank, Annie looks up at me and asks, “You ready to do this again? Practically rebuild a hotel from the ground up?”
I cock a sideways smile. A new challenge sounds good right about now. My place runs like a well-oiled machine at this point, thanks to an incredible staff, and unlike this clunky old elevator, which seems to be taking forever. The doors finally open, but the ride up is so slow, I could’ve run up and down the stairs twice at least. We get off on two of the three floors, but we can’t look in any rooms. Most have the “do not disturb” sign out. It’s too late in the day to even catch a maid cleaning. The remaining floor is under construction, and you need a special room key to access it anyway. We get back in the elevator and head back down.
“Do you think we were up here long enough?” Annie asks. “It’s only been like ten minutes.”
“Can have sex in less than that,” I say.
“I know that, Pierce.” She turns to me and reaches for my necktie, loosening it. She undoes my top few buttons and reaches up, running her hands through my hair. “There, now you look like you just fucked me.”
“But you don’t look like you’ve been fucked by me.”
Her eyebrows raise. “How would I look if I’d been fucked by you?”
“Like a woman with a sexual harassment complaint,” I say and take a huge step away from her.
The elevator dings, and I hold the door for her without making eye contact. She intertwines our fingers, and we walk out of the hotel, the smoking hot concierge nowhere to be found. It looks like an easy getaway. As soon as my shoes hit the pavement, I release her hand, but she grabs it back, giving it a little tug.
“Pierce?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t start acting weird. You asked me to come, to be your fake girlfriend.”
“Desire is a hard emotion to fake and an even harder one to hide,” I say. “You weren’t pretending in there. You were into it.”
“So were you.”
“You’re my best friend. We can’t let that happen.”
She busts out laughing. “You know, you really are full of yourself. Not every woman wants to sleep with you.”
“I know that,” I say.
“I’m a woman. You’re a man. If I stroke your cock, it’s going to get hard. If you push against me, my body is going to react. That’s it. It’s biology.”
We aren’t talking about what just happened anymore. We’re talking about something we swore to never discuss again.
Her voice grows quiet, and she steps a little closer. “It doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you or you want to sleep with me. That decision is made in our hearts and with our heads, not between our legs.”
“I wish that was true,” I say softly.
“It is,” she says, holding my eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I wish that was true, too.”
“Annie? Pierce?”
I turn around, seeing Sutton, brow furrowed, staring at us. “Were you just inside?” Annie looks up at me, uncertain what to say. “My concierge just told me there was a couple practically having sex in the restaurant. Was that you?”
“We aren’t a couple,” I say.
“We heard about the owner,” Annie says, “and just wanted to . . .”
“My grandfather,” Sutton says.
“I didn’t realize that,” I say. “I was very sorry to hear about his death, and wanted to extend my condolences to the staff.”
She actually laughs. “More likely you were spying?”
“We weren’t spying,” Annie says.
“You think you’re the first to show up here? I get it. You smell blood in the water. Let me save you some time. I’ll be taking over the hotel. My grandfather had been grooming me.” Her bright blue eyes stay focused, not a shutter. “You know, I heard what a great businessman you are, Pierce. Have to say I’m disappointed.”
For some reason, that really bothers me. “I can assure you nothing I do is disappointing.”
“Not from what I’ve heard.”
Annie rushes to my defense. “Pierce is one of the leading entrepreneurs in this city. His ideas on city planning and revitalization have been . . .”
“I know how legendary he is,” she spits out, eyeing me up and down, and I know we aren’t just talking business anymore. She’s jealous. Jealous I was in there with Annie after I came on to her the other night. “Trust me, his reputation is not a selling point.”
“I’m a businessman. I’m always looking for opportunity, but if you’re taking over, then . . .” I hold up my hands in peace. “There are so few of us small hotel owners. We have to support each other against the chains.”
“I think so, too,” she says with caution.
“If there’s anything I can do to help you out, just let me know.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“Because not so long ago, I was you. Trying to get an aging property back to glory. I’ve been there.” She just stares at me, hand on her hip, biting her lip. I hand her my business card. She eyes it then reaches into her pocket and hands me hers. “I’ve helped a lot of young entrepreneurs. You can ask around. Let me know if you want to talk.”