I felt an unexpected lump rising in my throat, and I willed it to go back down. “Okay, well, um, we can go over the details now, if you like, why don’t we go back to—”
“Oh no, Ms. Morgan. I think we may have just agreed on something, don’t you think?” he said, reaching out and looping a finger through my belt buckle, pulling me forward.
I swallowed hard, harder than normal because that damn lump was still there.
“We shouldn’t,” I said, as I 100 percent let him pull me even closer. “Really, this is a terrible idea.”
Should I?
You’re alone with him in a hotel room. Kiss him.
Hmm, we were safe in here, no one could see. Plus, I’d just won an argument, so I should treat myself a little, right?
Maybe just a peck?
Just the one. I leaned in and quickly brushed my lips lightly over his, instantly feeling that spark of flame beginning to fan something that was getting harder and harder to ignore. I kissed him just the one time, and then looked down as his hands slipped from my buckle to my waist. I caught a flash of metal and realized, again, that this man was still wearing his wedding ring.
Dear God, he was still wearing his wedding ring. His wife was dead, several years now, and he was still wearing her ring. It was sweet, really. When you think about it in the abstract. And kind. And good. But as the person he was currently holding, it was also unnerving. And a little strange. And exactly what I needed to see to remind me of yet another reason why this just couldn’t happen.
He nuzzled my neck and with a strength I didn’t know I had, I pushed him away. “I’ll send you that email, put all those ideas together. Then how about we meet in the conference room this afternoon? Start making some real plans?” I scooped up his hands and gave them a squeeze, but moved them safely away from me. It was harder to think clearly when there was actual touching involved.
He looked puzzled. “You’re leaving . . . now?”
I didn’t want to. Jesus Christ, I didn’t want to, which is why I knew I should. I also didn’t trust myself to actually answer, so I nodded instead. He looked like he wanted to argue with me, to try to get me to stay . . . but in the end nodded back. This wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.
“Why don’t you go out first, I’ll wait here a bit,” he suggested, straightening his tie.
“Sneaky,” I chided. “But a good idea. Don’t forget about switching my room, though.”
“Your room?” he asked, confused.
“My new suite, remember? I expect a TV in there, by the way.”
“No TV.”
“Goddammit,” I muttered.
I heard him laugh as I peeked into the hallway and made sure it was all clear. By the time I made it to the staircase, the lump in my throat was long gone. I was an expert at squashing it all down. I’d been doing it my entire life.
“You never call, you never write, it’s like you’ve forgotten all about me.”
“When have I ever written you?”
“An actual letter? Never. But an email every now and again might be nice, just so I know you haven’t fallen off the mountaintop.”
“I haven’t fallen off the mountaintop.”
“Well, that’s a start,” Barbara said, and we both laughed. “I know when you first dig in at a new property you tend to go radio silent.”
“You know me, you know me very well,” I replied, feeling my grin spread across my face. No one on the planet, not even Roxie and Natalie sometimes, knew me like my boss did. Friends got some of you, most of you, but when you spend forty hours a week with someone, they see everything. And she could read me like a book. I don’t rely on much in this world, but knowing I had someone like Barbara in my corner was a constant that I needed in my life.
And knowing me like she did, she knew I could handle things on my own and gave me a very long leash. I just had to check in from time to time which, when buried in my work, I had a tendency to forget to do.
“Sorry I’ve been MIA, I meant to throw up a flare so you knew I was still breathing.”
“No big, but now that I’ve got you, how are things going, kiddo?”
“I should have an actual status report ready to email to you tomorrow, but so far, so good. Really good, actually. Full swing, all systems firing, green across the board.”
“What’s wrong.” A statement, not a question, from my boss was never a good thing.
“What do you mean?”
“When you start in with your mission control lingo I know something’s up. Spill.”
I bit my lip. Whatever could be up? I’m only making out with the man who hired me whenever we can steal a few minutes away, the man who will ultimately decide whether I’d done a good job or not, the man who holds the fate of my partnership in his hands while I’m dying to hold something else in my hands, whatever could be up?
“It’s all good, Barbara, I just get carried away sometimes. They were showing SpaceCamp in the TV room the other night.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, not buying it for a second. “How’s the Bryant family doing?”
“Pretty good, I think. Some resistance at first, especially from the son, but he’s on board now.”
I heard her shuffling some papers. “Archibald, right?”
I stifled a laugh. I’d have to ask him about that later. “He goes by Archie, but yes. He’s playing ball now.”
“That’s good. How fast do you think you can wrap this up?”
I frowned. “Um, we’re just at the very beginning stages, but I’m on track. Why, what’s up?”
“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. Just some stuff going on here at the home office. I’d love to have this locked down sooner rather than later, that’s all.”
Now I wondered what was up. “Is there something I need to know?”
“Oh goodness, no, nothing like that.” She laughed, and I instantly felt better. If Barbara said everything was good, then everything was good. “Just thinking ahead to the fall, trying to line things up. You know me, always planning ahead.”
“Did you ever find out if the Waterside Hotel in Virginia was bringing someone in to consult?”
“I did, and let me tell you that story, it’s a doozy,” she said, and launched into the tale. We chatted for a while and I brought her up to speed on everything going on at the hotel. She made some notes, made some suggestions that were astute as always, and by the end of the conversation I thought she’d forgotten about the beginning of the conversation.
“You take care of yourself up there, and if you ever need to talk, you know you can always talk to me. You know that, right, kiddo?”
“Of course I do,” I assured her, crossing my fingers behind my back. I could, just not about this.