4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
WYATT
I really wished I didn’t find this chick so fucking attractive. She stood in front of me, rambling about the damn wedding this weekend that I couldn’t give a shit about, and all I could think about was her breasts. The way they filled out her sweater. The deep V of cleavage that was showing.
“So, do you have any ideas?”
I blinked. What the hell were we talking about?
“Um…” Why did I sound like an idiot? “I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“No.” At least I was honest. “Sorry.”
She crossed her arms, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the groan that wanted to slip out. I was pretty sure burying my face in my employee’s boobs was on a strictly not allowed list somewhere.
When was the last time I’d gotten laid? Definitely before my grandmother passed away, and at least a week or more before that. Maybe that was my problem.
“Never mind,” she huffed and tried to brush past me.
But my hand shot out and grasped the inside of her elbow. She stopped, looking up at me, and I didn’t miss the way she shivered at my touch. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse about being this attracted to her. Her skin felt warm under my touch, and all the blood in my body shot south. Soon she was going to realize exactly why I was distracted.
I released her. “Sorry, let’s start over.” It was early and the hotel’s restaurant wasn’t even open yet. She and I stood behind the bar. Apparently, there were two issues she needed to talk to me about. “Tell me what you need me to do. Preferably in as few words as possible. I do better with short and concise information rather than long-winded details I don’t care about.”
Her eyes narrowed like that made her mad, but after a moment, she sighed. “Do you know any DJs?”
“Yes.”
“Can you ask around and see if you know any that are available tomorrow? The one who was supposed to be here got in a car accident and the bride is freaking out.”
I nodded. “Yup. I can do that. Now what was the second issue?”
She waved me off. “I can talk with Jenny when she gets in. I’ll let you know if we can’t solve the problem.”
“Perfect.” Between Angie and Jenny, my restaurant manager, I had no doubt they’d figure it out. “See? We’re making a good team.”
Her brow raised, but no snarky rebuttal came from her. I almost felt disappointed. I liked her sass. A little too much, if I was honest. She was like the girls I tried my hardest to stay away from.
Women who weren’t afraid to call me out for being a dick or for my playboy status usually wanted more than I was willing to give. I wasn’t immune to the label I’d been given. Instead, I owned it. I made it clear that I enjoyed women for a night. Not any longer. I had no interest in a serious relationship. That came with expectations I was sure I’d never be able to meet.
But I couldn’t avoid her , because she was now my employee.
“And you’re gone again.” Angie rolled her eyes.
And this was one of those expectations. Women wanted to talk, and they wanted their men to listen. Something I’d been told by many women I sucked at. Paying attention was something even my teachers and my grandmother said I struggled with growing up. It didn’t matter if I was deep in thought about what they were saying, I could still miss entire chunks of conversation.
“Sorry.”
She waved me off. “It’s fine. My sister is like that. My brother sometimes too. I’m used to it.” She smiled. “I’ll try to use smaller words.”
There it was. Her snark was probably going to be the death of me. Admittedly, I expected her to be annoyed. Instead, she was teasing me. She was so different from other women, and I didn’t know what to make of that. Twenty-four hours ago, I’d pegged her as high maintenance. Now, I was sure that didn’t fit.
“I’ll go make some calls and I’ll check back in with you later.”
She nodded, and I headed back through the lobby to my office. But maybe what I needed was to head back to my room to take a cold shower or jerk off. I hadn’t decided which yet because one would involve either having dirty thoughts about her and the other would involve trying not to have dirty thoughts. Neither seemed acceptable.
So, instead, I would work on finding her a DJ, and I’d remind myself of all the reasons I wasn’t allowed to be attracted to her.
Thankfully, the connections I had on social media and in the entertainment world allowed me to solve the problem she’d tasked me with in less than an hour. Which was fine, but why the fuck did I feel so excited about it? Like a damn dog looking for a treat for going outside and pissing in the grass. Typically, I only cared about pleasing women in the bedroom, so why did this feel different?
Jesus, maybe I really did need to get laid.
At least I’d be able to solve that problem. In order to get the names of a handful of DJs from a woman I knew who did event planning, I’d gotten roped in to being her date to some work thing tomorrow night. It was a perfect win-win situation. Natalie would get to show up with a decent date on her arm, and I’d get laid. This had been our arrangement over the last year. Neither of us wanted anything serious, but we got along well enough in and out of the bedroom for our casual meetups to work out for both of us.
I found Angie sitting at a table near the bar with the bride and groom. She smiled as I approached, and my dick jumped to attention. I gritted my teeth and glanced over at the bride, hoping that would crush my growing issue.
“Hi, Mr. Reed,” Angie said as I came closer. “Happy you could join us.”
I had told her multiple times already to call me Wyatt, but she insisted on calling me by my last name in front of guests and other staff. I should be all for being professional, but every time she used it like that, I imagined the word sir tumbling from her lips as she fell to her knees in front of me.
Fuck.
I blinked and reluctantly tipped my head in her direction. “Ms. Mitchell.”
A smirk pulled at her lips and mine twitched, but fire ran through my veins as I caught the groom eyeing the tits that seemed even closer to spilling out of her sweater than they had earlier in the morning. I understood far too well that Angie’s curves were the stuff of every man’s fantasy, but his soon-to-be wife was sitting right next to him. Shouldn’t he be eyeing her tits?
Wrenching the fourth chair out—startling him and forcing his gaze to meet mine—I joined them at the table. “I solved your DJ issue.”
“That’s great,” Angie chirped.
Both she and the bride conversed excitedly about another problem being solved. I needed to remember to ask her what the other issue was and what they’d ended up figuring out.
But currently I was still silently telling the douchebag across the table to keep his eyes on his wife and off my staff. He had the balls to lean back and cross his arms like I was barking up the wrong tree.
Look, I wasn’t an angel when it came to the opposite sex, but I was always transparent. And if I even had an inkling a woman was in a serious relationship, I stayed far away. Furthermore, if I was out with someone, I wasn’t checking out other women. Just because I had no interest in a serious relationship didn’t mean I thought women should be disrespected.
I couldn’t be happier when the couple excused themselves not ten minutes later.
“Dickhead,” I muttered once they were out of earshot.
“Who?” Angie tilted her head and lines pulled between her brows.
Was she serious? No way she didn’t notice him ogling her.
“The soon to-be-husband who was more interested in you than his fiancée.”
She waved me off. “He was only being friendly.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “I didn’t realize being friendly meant checking out a woman’s tits. But good to know. I’ll have to remember that next time I’m at the grocery store or something.”
I didn’t care that I was being an ass. She couldn’t possibly be that na?ve.
“He wasn’t—” She stopped mid–head shake before glancing down at her chest. “I mean, I didn’t notice, but I doubt he was looking at my boobs.”
I sat back in my chair, debating how far to take this conversation. She was technically my employee. This had sexual harassment written all over it. But my curiosity got the best of me.
“What if I told you he was the second man today who’d done it?”
She scoffed. “I’d say you’re delusional.”
I leaned forward and folded my arms, placing them on the table. “So you can’t think of any other man you talked to this morning who seemed so distracted by something he couldn’t remember anything you said in the whole ten-minute conversation you had?”
She started to shake her head but froze as her eyes widened and heat flooded into her cheeks.
I relaxed back into my chair, fighting a smirk. I was dying to ask her if she knew how fucking irresistible her curves were. But I couldn’t. I needed to get us back on safe ground.
“Tell me about the other problem you had.”
“I…um…” She blinked once, twice, then schooled her features and sat up straight. “The champagne delivery got delayed and won’t be here by tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’m assuming Jenny suggested we offer prosecco instead? I know we have plenty of that on hand.”
“She did.”
Angie’s smirk sent unease down my spine. Why did her words seem to have a but hanging on the end of them?
“Out with it.”
“Well, Bridezilla wasn’t thrilled about that solution.”
“Of course she wasn’t.” I shrugged. “But not much we can really do. Not like we’re going to offer our top-of-the-line champagne for her hundred and fifty guests.”
“Right. We couldn’t possibly do that. We don’t even carry enough at any given time for that many people.”
“Okay.” I raised a brow. “What aren’t you saying?”
“I offered a compromise. Jenny said you’re going to be pissed, so I had to be the one to tell you.”
I gritted my teeth and waited.
“I offered the champagne for the parents and the wedding party and prosecco for the rest of the guests.”
I closed my eyes and counted. One, two, three…
They would need at least four bottles, maybe five. At almost five hundred a bottle. Add in the cost of the prosecco, and that would be more than triple the cost factored into the original price. But honestly, I could also understand that the mistake was on our end, and at the end of the day, we had to make it right.
“Wow, Jenny wasn’t kidding. You do have a vein on your forehead that looks as if it might explode any minute.”
I opened my eyes and glared at her.
“You know I made the right call. As much as it sucks, it wasn’t their fault our order didn’t come in time.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I probably would have only offered the champagne for the bride and groom, not the whole wedding party and parents.”
“That seems shitty, given the parents of the bride are the ones paying for it.”
True. But it was done. Nothing I could do about it now.
“Hey, Wyatt?” Steven said, stepping into the bar area. “We have guests asking for a manager.”
I tipped my head in Angie’s direction. “Want to try your hand at a disgruntled hotel guest?”
She pushed her chair back and stood. “Sure. Can’t be any worse than Bridezilla.”
“Try not to give away three thousand dollars this time.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll try.”
As she turned and followed Steven out of the restaurant, ass swaying, my gaze zeroed in on her and I held back the groan that rose up. Off-limits, I reminded myself.
Again.