Chapter Twenty
Chloe
The hotel room curtains aren’t shut, letting in the brilliant desert sun as I open my eyes. I blink several times, trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes and come back to reality. I’ve been dreaming... dreaming of the past. Why in the world have I been thinking of Cynthia?
She isn’t the world’s most horrific mother-in-law-to-be, but I bet she’s in the top ten. The thought makes me smile as I stretch. My hand hits something on my pillow, and I turn to see what it is.
I come fully awake when I see a purple lily and a note. I pick up the flower and inhale its sweet scent, a sigh escaping me. My fingers tremble as I lift the note.
I don’t like to say I told you so, but I’ll bet the house that you feel one hundred percent this morning. Okay, I actually don’t mind at all being right and telling you. By the way, you were breathtaking when you let out a little sigh and snuggled against my chest as I carried you to your bed. It took much more restraint than I realized I possessed to lay you down and walk away. You’re the most stunning, intriguing, fascinating woman I’ve ever met. I want to know so much more about you. See you in a few hours. — Mason
My heart skips a few beats as I reread Mason’s words. He carried me to bed, found a flower, and wrote me a note. How long did he stay while I slept? Would I have beckoned him if I’d woken?
Even in my sleep I turned to him. He’s, of course, right. I don’t feel any effect whatsoever from my drinking the night before. As a matter of fact, I haven’t woken up feeling this good in a very long time. I’m glad he ordered the food and made sure I drank water and coffee.
I want to lie in bed, enjoy the flower he left me, and read the note a few more times, but my bladder won’t allow it. I grab the flower and take it in the bathroom with me before I get in the shower. I peer through the glass door at the perfect lavender color as I wash myself.
My body tingles with unfulfilled awareness. I ache all over. Now that I’m sober again, I realize that nothing can happen between us on this trip, not until things are officially over with Paul. The scary truth is that I’m not sure I can convince myself to keep this promise. Mason may be right. We may end up together.
This means I really do need to tell Paul it’s over. I need to leave my boyfriend first. He certainly can’t fault me for it. We aren’t happy together. But there’s another part of me that says we aren’t miserable either. And we’ve been together for ten years. Do I really want to throw all of that away for a fling?
And yes, I know it will be nothing more than a fling. Mason has made this more than clear. He doesn’t do relationships. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t be propositioning me when I’m actually available to be his.
I look at the flower again.
His actions confuse me. This is such a romantic gesture. But how am I to know what someone does when they want to sleep with another person? I’ve been with exactly one man my entire life.
Paul was the one to take my virginity, and I’ve never even considered sleeping with another man since being with him . . . not before Mason came along. Even those times Paul and I were on breaks, I couldn’t do it. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me now. Maybe I’m missing something.
I’m not the type of person to want something just because I haven’t had it before. I grew up in a simple life. I’ve earned everything since. I don’t covet what others have.
This is just a matter of me not knowing myself, not knowing what I want, what’s important to me. It has to be that. I don’t want to think of myself as a bad person. I want to believe in myself and my values.
I get dressed in my favorite work skirt and top, slip on my jacket, and do my hair and makeup. I’m stronger. I’m more confident in my work clothes, more stable. It reminds me that I love this job; I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. My coworkers are good people. A short fling with Mason isn’t worth losing all of this.
I have some coffee and a muffin that were left on my counter before I make my way downstairs. I’m meeting the team in a conference room on the basement floor of the hotel.
It’s a very nice area. Even though it’s below ground, the lighting is so perfect it doesn’t feel closed in. There’s nothing about this hotel I don’t like, not yet, at least.
I’m the last to arrive besides Mason, who I don’t think is coming. As the most junior employee I feel a little guilty about this. I look at the clock showing I’m fifteen minutes early, but I still feel guilty. Maybe I need to be thirty minutes early tomorrow.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Dell says, seeming far too perky for a man who was drinking and gambling last night.
“Morning,” I reply. He must notice the confusion on my face.
“I won a thousand dollars last night. Mason was wrong in saying that the house always wins.” He smiles smugly. “I’m definitely a winner.”
“Good for you,” I say. His enthusiasm is contagious.
“How did you sleep? As much as you were wobbling last night, I thought for sure you’d be walking in here wearing dark sunglasses and complaining about every little sound,” Dell says. He passes a cup full of cash to Jenny. She grins at me.
“I had total confidence you were a class act and would be just as perky as you normally are,” Jenny says as she pulls out the money and begins counting. “And I won.”
“Won what?” I ask.
“Oh, we were betting on the new girl. I thought you’d look like hell,” Dell says with a shrug of his shoulders before sweeping his hand across the table. “The rest of the team agreed with me. We were betting on degrees of illness. Jenny said you’d be fine. I was on such a roll last night I thought there was no way I could lose. But this bet’s okay to lose. Although I hope it’s not the beginning of a bad streak.” He loses his grin at the thought.
“Glad to see how much confidence you have in me.” I chuckle as I sit and pull out my computer and notes.
“We’re a team,” Dell says as if it’s no big deal. “Now let’s kick some ass so we win this account.”
The morning goes by quickly, and we have a working lunch. Slowly, my tension eases, and I quit looking at the door every time I hear the slightest noise. Mason is off with the bigwigs like I expected. I don’t have to face him in front of everyone after practically throwing myself at him last night. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wish I could be one of those people who forgets everything they do when they’re drunk. Unfortunately, I’m not. I remember it all no matter how much I’d love to have a few blackout moments so I don’t have to relive my humiliation over and over again.
Nothing has changed between us and nothing can. Hopefully I’ll grow to appreciate that he makes me feel good about myself without blowing it into something it isn’t.
This situation makes me confront my life and realize I need to make changes. If I can figure out what those changes are I’ll be in a much healthier position than the one I’m currently in.
It’s interesting to tour the area where the conference center will be built, and the hotel staff are wonderful. As much as we’re trying to impress them, they’re trying to impress us, too. I’ve never experienced anything like this. I know it’s going to work out; we’ll get the job.
Will that mean more trips to Vegas — with Mason? I can’t think about that right now. I can’t constantly think about him.
Even if I don’t admit it to anyone else, I can’t deny I’m disappointed when the end of the day comes without seeing him. I go to my room and let it go. I assure myself that’s what needs to happen. I change and get ready for bed.
Then someone knocks on my door . . .