I had a huge smile plastered on my face thinking about Peyton opening her package the other day.

I regretted not being able to be there, but the way I was imagining it, I almost felt like I had been there. If only I'd been able to see Peyton blush like that in person. She looked fucking adorable with some color in her cheeks. I vowed to make her blush again, be it with another prank or finally making her admit she definitely felt something for me.

There was a spark there. I wasn't making it up. I was sure Peyton felt it too, though for some reason she refused to acknowledge it and acted like a snob instead, which pissed me right the hell off. I knew I was going to get her eventually, though. At this point, it was stupid to think I wouldn't hook up with her eventually. Every time I saw her, she sent something pumping through my blood, a mix of excitement and nerves so intoxicating that it made my head spin.

My mind was filled with thoughts of her as I went for my morning swim. The hotel had told us that all employees had free rein of the gym and pools before they officially opened for the guests. I guess they wanted to keep us in great shape, but I wasn't about to argue with their logic if it meant I didn't have to forgo my morning routine. I used to swim at my parents' hotel, but I would've used any chance for more time at the Mirabella and therefore more time closer to her.

But this time, swimming didn't feel as cathartic as it usually did.

For a few brief seconds while I was in the pool, I felt like someone was watching me. It didn’t seem likely—it was early morning, and I was alone. But I couldn't shake the feeling that somebody else was nearby watching me, despite all evidence to the contrary. Maybe there was just a cleaner nearby getting the place ready for the influx of guests later, or a gardener trimming the neat hedges surrounding this particular pool. Either way, I was being paranoid for no reason. Why would anyone be spying on me? After all, I was the only spy at the Mirabella.

Besides that, there was only one thing I could make myself think about all day long, long after my swim was over and my shift had begun.

Peyton, sweet and sexy Peyton.

She was always there. Every time I looked over my shoulder, every time I tried to walk away, she found her way back. And who was I fucking kidding? I didn't even want to stay away. I was addicted to the girl.

The way her hair shone when she turned her head, the way she walked in those ridiculously high heels she always wore. Her outfits, the way she laughed, the skin her clothes revealed. I couldn't get enough of Peyton Cadwell and her intoxicating sweetness.

Speak of the devil...

I was walking through the lobby after my swim when I saw her again. Every single time she strolled by in those ridiculous trendy outfits, she made me regret wearing this damn bellboy uniform. She looked stunning once again, her beautiful strawberry blonde hair falling down her back in loosely curled waves that framed her pretty face. I couldn't get enough of her. Every time I caught a glimpse of her, she got me more addicted.

"Peyton," I called out just as she walked through and into a hallway. She raised her eyes to meet mine as I strode over to the hall to catch up. I could see the hint of a smile playing on her pouty mouth, but instead of letting it break through, she rolled her eyes and stepped languidly toward me.

“Hi,” she said. We were alone in the hallway now, away from prying eyes. “What’s up?”

I couldn’t resist the urge to pry any longer. “You haven’t said anything about my little gift the other day.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What gift?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

She frowned as if deep in thought, even though we both knew exactly what I meant. “Oh, that gift,” she said. “I loved it! All my favorite things.”

I knew she was messing with me, but I grinned and raised an eyebrow anyway. "I knew you would, dirty girl. Did you try out the clamps yet?” I said, intent on winning this little battle of wits.

"Um. I...." She didn’t seem to have another comeback. She simply looked at me with wide eyes, and I chuckled. After a moment, her slow, melodic laughter followed. I fucking lived for it, and hearing her laugh like that made my whole day.

"Cade," she said, prodding me in the chest. "I promised myself I’d take the high road. But screw it. I'm going to get back at you for that package, trust me."

"I'd like to see you try." I smiled. "Bet you can't think of something nearly as good.”

"You'll just have to wait and see." She winked at me. "I could have an ace up my sleeve you don't know about."

"We'll see," I said. "Hey, by the way… you feeling okay? With your sister and everything?"

Her expression darkened, and I immediately hated myself for bringing it up.

Of course, the news about Allegra Cadwell’s shock return was all over the hotel. Everyone in our employee team had heard of it, and they were all whispering among themselves, speculating and stirring up drama. A few had even scored media interviews with the gossip journalists who were clamoring for any scrap of information from the Mirabella, although the Cadwells were still yet to release an official statement.

I didn't want to upset Peyton. I just wanted to see if she was okay. Personally, I hadn't seen DeeDee (or Allegra, as was apparently her real name) since that day at the hospital the other week. I guess what was happening made sense with what I'd overheard in that hallway, but for some reason it still gave me a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't going to say anything, though. Not before finding out how Peyton felt about the whole thing.

"I'll be fine," she replied in a strained tone.

I felt awkward as fuck, and I scratched my head and averted my gaze. "I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” I said.

"Well, I'm sure you have your questions," she replied in a cool tone. "So why don't you just go ahead and ask me what we both know you want to know?"

"Huh?" My eyebrows furrowed. "Look, Peyton, I just wanted to make sure you're okay. That’s all."

We stared at each other, her challenging look softening a little as I went on to explain what I meant. "I know this is a lot to take in. All the stuff with your sister… it’s pretty crazy. And your parents must be really overwhelmed as well. I just wanted to see how you were doing. You owe me nothing; you don't have to explain anything. That's not why I asked,” I said.

She looked away, blinking a little too fast for comfort as I tried to defuse the situation. "I'll be okay," she said in a shaky little voice that made me want to physically hurt anyone who ever made her this upset again. She seemed weak and on the verge of tears, and I never wanted to see her like this again.

But you will, my guilty conscience told me. Stay away from her, or you'll make her cry too, as soon as she finds out who you really are.

I did my best to shut the annoying voice up, and I offered Peyton a smile. "Look, I mean it," I said. "I know this doesn't mean much right now, Peyton, but you can get through this."

"She's already moved in," she said in a small voice. "DeeDee. The same day the DNA results came back."

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows. "Seems a bit fast to me."

She didn't reply to that, so I did my best to cheer her up a little, saying, "You'll be just fine once it all blows over, and you can take what's going on now too. You're a strong woman."

She bit her bottom lip and gave me a grateful smile, although she didn't say anything. I could tell she was overwhelmed by the whole thing, and I didn't want to push the issue any further. I just wanted her to be okay.

"No one's ever called me a woman before," she finally said.

"Well, you are one, aren't you?" I asked her with raised eyebrows. "What would you rather have me call you?"

I hadn't even realized I'd taken a step toward her until her sexy little body tensed with my presence.

"I don't know," she whispered, just as my hand stretched out. I gently stroked her forearm with my fingers, and she let out a little gasp.

"Peyton," I said softly, and her eyes fluttered to mine. She looked so fucking fragile like that, so sweet and so easy to hurt. I could never let anyone touch her, not in a way that was meant to hurt her.

"Yes?" she said, her eyes fearfully looking up at mine.

She was so nervous. So sweet. She made me crave the taste of her mouth, made me remember that near-kiss before we got interrupted by Bianca. I wanted those lips on mine. Needed them.

"Sweetheart," I said on a whim. “That’s what I can call you.”

"Sweetheart?" she asked softly, her lips so fucking close to mine.

"Yeah," I replied. "'Cause you're so fucking sweet. I bet you taste sweet, too."

My fingers trailed over her forearm and she breathed out a little sigh when they dug lightly into her skin. I could feel my cock tightening in my pants. She was too... just too fucking much. Too sweet, too sexy, too everything. "I want to know something," I said.

She raised her eyes to meet mine again. "Yes?"

"Did you..." I grinned before continuing. "Did you watch any of the movies from the box?"

Her eyes widened, and in a second, she'd smacked my hand away and taken a step back. "You're such a jackass!" she said, rolling her eyes. Then she laughed again, as if she couldn’t stop herself.

I was glad she was taking it well. She needed a good laugh right now, considering the recent major upheaval in her life.

"What?" I said in a nonchalant tone. "Some of those are classics!"

"Oh, yeah." She rolled her eyes, prodding me playfully again. "I'm sure many people love Four Weddings and a Fisting. It's probably more famous than the original."

"Probably," I said solemnly. "That really is a classic, by the way. You should give it a watch."

"Oh, shut up," she said, a twinkle of amusement still flashing in her eyes. "You're incorrigible."

She turned around, ready to walk away, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Her eyes found mine, but I didn't pull her all the way into my arms. "Hey," I said gently. "All jokes aside, I just wanted to say, if you need anything... you know where to find me. I know this is probably difficult for you.”

She swallowed hard, then nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Cade.”

“No problem… sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that!" She was turning pink, and it was fucking adorable.

"Nah, I don't think so." I grinned, letting her go. "I like you blushing. Makes me think of dirty things."

She shot me a look before walking away from me, not turning as she spoke. "Bye, Cade!"

"Bye, sweetheart!" I said to her retreating back. Even though her back was to me, I knew there was a smile playing on those sexy lips, mirroring my own.

* * *

I was definitely not looking forward to tonight.

My parents had told me they needed to talk to me about 'the job'. The way they talked about it like we were part of some damn mob usually amused me, but today I really didn't want to deal with their speculations about the Mirabella and the Cadwells. I had other shit to worry about, although even I could admit I was starting to obsess about Peyton like a love-struck teenager. But I couldn't help myself. She was addictive.

I headed home to get changed. Normally when I was there, I was rarely interrupted by my parents. They owned an enormous house, but I lived in our hotel, and sometimes days would pass without me seeing them. Since they'd developed their obsession with beating the Mirabella in every way possible, it was a relief to get away from them from time to time. I hated how competitive they were, but it wasn't just that. It felt like they were almost paranoid, so fucking scared that someone—anyone—could be doing better than them. 

For me, it wasn't like that. The Mirabella was in a different league. My parents' hotel wasn't doing badly by any stretch of the imagination. We were booked solid for months. But the Mirabella was a landmark. It was the place the city was known for, the hotel that put my hometown on the map. But no matter how hard I tried to convince my parents, they didn't believe me when I said we couldn't reach for the stars. The only thing that could give the Pierce Resort that kind of status was time. And my parents were as impatient as they come.

So I wasn't looking forward to our dinner, and as soon as I stepped through the front door of their hills mansion at seven, I regretted it.

My parents were all over me in seconds, with Mom taking my jacket and Dad barking questions at me.

"Would you calm down?" I said. "I worked a full shift today. I'm tired."

"Remember why you're there, Kaden," Mom said softly as Dad glared at me. "Remember you have a job to do."

"How could I forget?" I said bitterly. "You two keep reminding me every second of the day."

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" Dad asked.

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I'm just tired," I lied. "I'm sorry. Let's have some dinner. I didn't come here to pick a fight."

We sat down at the table, and Mom brought over some food I was sure one of their maids had prepared. Mom was a hopeless cook, not that she'd tried to make anything recently. It seemed as if she'd pretty much accepted her role as a hotel manager and stopped giving a shit about any domestic activities. Good for her, though. If she didn't want to clean and cook, she definitely didn't have to. We had enough staff to take care of all that.

"So, tell us," Mom began once we dug into the green bean casserole and loaded our plates with Shepherd's pie. "What's been going on at the Mirabella? Is it true what everyone’s saying? Is it really her?"

I knew the question would come up. The tabloids had started reporting on the DeeDee/Allegra situation in an almost frenzied state, but I'd kept silent on the issue, telling my parents I'd explain everything when we saw each other. I guess that time had finally come.

"They found Allegra, yes," I replied. My mom gasped, and I looked at my plate uncomfortably. Suddenly, dinner didn't look so appetizing.

"The lost little girl? It was really her?" Dad asked.

"Yes," I replied. "She was on my team when I started. She had this weird panic attack which they're now saying was a sort of flashback."

“What’s happening with that, then?”

"Looks like they’ve moved her into the Mirabella already," I said. "She's already got her stuff there, according to... erm, the people I work with."

Almost got caught there. I couldn't risk my parents knowing I was getting along well with Peyton. They'd definitely try to use our connection to get information out of her, and it was the last thing I wanted.

"Well, that’s not actually why we invited you to dinner," Dad said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

I perked up. Maybe they were finally going to offer me a better job, something different than spying for their competitor.

I'd let my parents down in a lot of ways since I was old enough to care. I knew they'd expected me to be a stand-up representative of their hotel, but when I was well into my teenage years, I went through a wild streak. Partying, drinking, going out every night of the week, the full shebang. I'd done it all and lived the life Peyton was struggling with now, although I was never famous like she was. It was different for guys, I guess.

Every time I was with a different girl it felt like a new trophy, until it got to the point where all of it felt fucking fake, and I didn't know whether they dated me for money or the person I was.

So I took a break from it. For almost two years, I'd stayed away from the party life, and six months ago, I even cut off my friends who were always encouraging me to do bad shit, including George, and unfortunately, also Tristan.

Tristan had been my best friend leading up to that point, and I really couldn't blame him for being bitter about the way we'd left things. I'd never explained it to him—I pushed it to the side and told myself I'd do it someday. But that day never came, and now we were both angry and disappointed with our friendship shattered. I knew I had some fences to mend, but I wasn't ready for it just yet.

"We called you because we wanted to discuss something else," Dad went on, and I snapped out of it.

"Yes?" I asked expectantly. Finally. This was it. They'd say my fake life was over, I'd come out to Peyton before it was too late, and we could all move on with our lives.

"It's about the Cadwells," Dad said. "We’ve heard some rumors that might help us.”

“Rumors?”

“Yes. From an ex-employee of the Mirabella.”

“Right. And what are these rumors about?”

“Tax evasion. We’ve heard that they're concealing profits at the Mirabella—falsifying records so it makes it look like they’re making less, and keeping the extras in secret offshore accounts. Nothing solid, of course, but that’s what a few people are whispering about after hearing what this guy had to say.”

They both looked at me expectantly. The worst part about it was, I knew they might be right. I’d handed over some paperwork to them a few days ago, copies of records I’d gotten while I was snooping at the Mirabella. I was snooping around in the accounting offices, and I found a folder with some of the most recent financial year’s statements on a desk next to a shredder. Of course, I made copies and left the originals there. I wasn’t that bad of a spy.

I’d noticed discrepancies myself when I went through those numbers and compared them to other official quarterly finance reports that I’d managed to copy and sneak out of the accounting offices on an earlier occasion, so I knew exactly what my parents were talking about. But I didn’t want to believe it. Sure, Peyton's dad seemed like a dick, but her mom was lovely, and I sincerely doubted either of them had been doing anything illegal. They simply didn’t need to. Things at the Mirabella were going so well.

"I'm not sure that's true," I said coolly, feeling disappointed but trying not to show it. "Is there actually solid evidence in any of the files I brought over that it’s her parents doing it? You can't just go around accusing people of shit, you know."

"Kaden," Mom said in a warning tone. "Don't curse at the table."

"And remember whose side you're on in this,” Dad added. “If you can find solid evidence of this tax evasion while you work there, we’ll win this whole thing. That’s exactly why we sent you there in the first place—to find something like this and prove they did it.”

I rolled my eyes. "There are no sides and no proof. And there’s nothing to win. You're making this a competition when it really doesn't have to be. Just accept that you're running two different hotels. Stop obsessing about the Mirabella! Honestly, I’m this fucking close to quitting."

"Language!" Mom cut in, shaking her head in disappointment.

"We do have proof that something is going on, thanks to all these documents you’ve given us," Dad said gleefully. "We've been comparing the files and going through the numbers for a few days now. There are more than a few glaring discrepancies, to the tune of eight million missing dollars in the last financial year. And who knows how much every other year previously? Someone’s pocketing that extra money….”

He got up and brought over the folders, slamming them down on the table in front of me. "And frankly, Kaden," he went on. "I don't appreciate your attitude. You work for us. Or have you forgotten about everything we've done for you?"

I returned his stare, even though it was making me uncomfortable. I wasn't going to back down, though. I stood by my words, even if they were the ones paying me for this. I honestly believed they were creating a stupid competition which didn't even matter in the end. Both the Pierce Resort and the Mirabella were doing well, and I didn't understand why they had to make trouble when there was no need for it.

Sure, maybe there was money missing from the Mirabella, but that didn’t mean it was the Cadwells making it ‘disappear’ into a secret offshore account for purposes of evading taxes, or whatever other reason someone might steal money from their own business. There were other possibilities. Perhaps there were simply a few pages missing from the official financial records I’d copied compared with the seemingly dodgy file I found near the shredder. Or maybe the papers near the shredder were simply incorrect, hence they were going to be shredded and tossed out. That was an easy enough explanation, and no one had to be a criminal.

As for the guy spouting off rumors… well, it was common for disgruntled ex-employees to try and start shit out of bitterness over being fired. That meant nothing.

But if I quit entirely and stopped looking into this, then Mom and Dad would simply keep perpetuating these rumors about their rival, possibly leading to their downfall. I didn’t want to let that happen when they could very well be wrong. So for now, I had to stay at the Mirabella.

"I'll look things over again," I replied with a sigh, taking the folders and pushing my chair back.

"Your dinner will go cold," Mom said.

"I’ve lost my appetite. I might just call it a night," I said, tucking the folders under my arm. The vibe of the dining room was cutting and cold, and I just wanted to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible.

As I headed back home, I thought about what my parents had said.

If what they claimed was true, and one of the Cadwells really was skimming money off the top to avoid taxes—a theory I’d been trying not to think about for days now—I would put my money on Peyton not knowing about it. She'd be so upset if she knew of these allegations. And I couldn't imagine Francine, who seemed to care so much about her employees, doing something like that either.

If anything was really going on, it must've been her dad—the grumpy Vincent Cadwell.

I decided to go back into the accounting offices during my next Mirabella shift and search for more financial records to further confirm or deny any sordid goings-on within the books. I just hoped what I found wouldn't damage my relationship with Peyton.

I simply couldn’t let that happen.

In that moment, I knew exactly how I felt about her. There was no point deluding myself and pretending like she was just a girl I liked and wanted to seduce. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Peyton wasn’t just any random hot girl. She was something else entirely… and I was already falling for her.

Hard.