Chapter 21
RHETT
What the hell, Austin?
It was fucking hot. In November.
Even at three in the afternoon, the temperature had to be pushing eighty. It wasn’t that it was overly hot, but it was so much warmer than I had been expecting. And after a bumpy flight from Miami, I was already in a shit mood.
I was looking forward to getting to the hotel, taking a shower, and reviewing tomorrow’s prep schedule in the quiet of my own room. A stiff drink and peace. That was all I wanted.
That fantasy died a quick death the moment I saw Simone’s face at the hotel reception desk.
I knew that look. Simone wasn’t panicking but she was on the verge of freaking out.
That did not bode well for me. And yes, it was all about me.
I strolled across the hotel lobby after finishing my phone call outside.
Conroy and Clem were standing close. They had those same dire expressions. Conroy looked at me and grimaced.
“What do you mean there’s only one room?” Simone said to the clerk. “We booked four separate rooms weeks ago.”
The desk clerk, a young guy who looked like he would rather be anywhere else, kept typing frantically on his computer. “I’m showing a reservation for one room with a king bed under the name Voss. The other three reservations seem to have been… canceled?”
“Canceled?” Clementine stepped forward, pulling out her phone. “That’s impossible. I confirmed all four reservations myself last week.”
I moved closer to the desk, already feeling the familiar tension that came with plans going sideways. Why plan if everything was just going to go to shit?
Simone looked at me, then back at the clerk.
“I hate to say this,” Simone said with a sigh. “But I’m really going to need to talk to your supervisor.”
The clerk sighed, picked up the phone, and muttered something about paging the manager. I leaned against the desk, rubbing my temples.
Simone shot me a look. “I made the reservations,” she said. “I have the confirmation.”
“I believe you,” I said.
Simone had been running my life for years and she never let me down. It wasn’t on her.
What followed was twenty minutes of the most frustrating customer service I had experienced in years. If I ran my restaurant the way they were running the hotel, I would be out of business.
The hotel had somehow mixed up our reservations with another group. They canceled three of our rooms to accommodate some country music concert crowd. The city was packed, every hotel booked solid, and our chances of finding alternative accommodations were somewhere between slim and nonexistent.
The manager finally appeared, a harried-looking woman in a too-tight blazer.
She glanced at us like we were just another problem in her endless parade of disasters.
“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” she began, her tone dripping with rehearsed sympathy.
“We’ve had an unprecedented influx of guests due to the concert tonight.
Unfortunately, we’ve had to prioritize—”
“Prioritize?” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “We booked these rooms weeks ago. Confirmed them twice. You’re telling me you just handed them over to someone else?”
Her smile faltered. “I assure you we’re doing everything we can to rectify the situation.”
The kid behind the desk looked genuinely sympathetic, but his hands were clearly tied. He couldn’t make a room appear out of thin air.
“I wish I could help, but with the Blake Shelton concert tonight, literally everything in the city is booked. The one room we have for you is actually pretty spacious though. King bed, pull-out sofa, and we can bring up a rollaway cot.”
Blake Shelton. Of course. Leave it to a country music superstar to completely derail our accommodations.
“We can make it work,” Clementine said. “Right? It’s just one night.”
I looked around our little group, trying to calculate the logistics. Four adults, one hotel room, and enough personal and professional tension to power a small city. What could possibly go wrong? I did not want to listen to Conroy and Simone fucking all night. We weren’t in college.
“Fine,” I said, because what choice did we have? “We’ll take the room.”
The elevator ride up to the seventh floor was silent except for the soft jazz playing over the speakers and Simone’s occasional muttered curses about incompetent reservation systems. Conroy seemed completely unbothered by the whole situation, which was typical.
The man could probably sleep comfortably on a bed of nails if necessary.
And he was going to be with Simone. I didn’t know what was going on between them, but clearly they weren’t the least bit bothered about sharing a bed or space.
The room was, as promised, spacious by hotel standards.
A large king bed dominated one wall, with a sitting area that included a decent-sized sofa that would presumably convert into a bed.
A large window offered a nice view of downtown Austin.
There was enough floor space for the promised cot without making the place feel like a sardine can.
It could have been worse. It also could have been a hell of a lot better.
“Right,” I said, dropping my bag near the door and surveying the sleeping arrangements. “I assume the two of you are vying for the bed?” I said to Simone and Conroy.
Poor Simone turned bright red. Clem scowled at me like I had said something wrong. Were we all going to pretend we didn’t see the two of them naked and fucking?
“Actually,” Conroy said. “I insist on taking the cot. Ladies should have the comfortable sleeping arrangements.”
I caught the look that passed between him and Simone. Whatever had happened between them in Miami was clearly ongoing, though from Simone’s expression, it wasn’t exactly simple. She wasn’t trying to admit to anything.
“That’s very thoughtful,” Simone said.
“I’ll take the couch,” I offered, partly out of practicality and partly because I needed to maintain some distance from Clementine. “You two can share the bed.”
Simone tossed her bag onto the king bed like she was claiming territory. “Perfect.”
And then there was an awkward silence. Because whatever was going on with Conroy and Simone was unsettled. And the idea of me and Clem sharing a room after the incident was just awkward.
We all felt it.
“You know what? Clem and I need some girl time, don’t we, Clem?” Simone said.
Clementine looked confused. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“We’ll catch up with you boys later tonight,” Simone said, already heading for the bathroom with her toiletry bag. “Maybe we can find some live music or something authentically Austin.”
Conroy opened his mouth like he was about to suggest joining them, but something in Simone’s expression made him think better of it.
“Actually, why don’t we meet downstairs at eight?” Simone said in that way that said it wasn’t really a question. She did that to me all the time. Gentle bossing. “I saw they have a spa in the lobby. Clem and I could use some pampering after Miami.”
Conroy and I couldn’t exactly say no. Ten minutes later, both women disappeared.
That left me alone with Conroy for the first time since Miami. And I had some questions.
“So, want to tell me what the hell happened with you and Simone?”
Conroy’s entire face lit up like Christmas morning. “Rhett, I have discovered the secret to life.”
“Please tell me you’re not about to give me details about your sex life. With Simone. My assistant. And my friend.”
“No details. Just… man, I had her all wrong. Completely wrong.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe it. “I thought she was this uptight, professional woman who barely tolerated having me around.”
“She is uptight and professional. And she does barely tolerate having you around.”
“That’s what makes it so incredible!” He was practically bouncing now. “Turns out all that professionalism was just… I don’t know, armor or something. Underneath, she’s passionate and funny and completely unpredictable.”
I tried to process this information while maintaining my mental image of Simone as the hyper-organized assistant who color-coded our itineraries and sent follow-up emails about follow-up emails.
“How did you even…” I stopped, holding up a hand. “Actually, I don’t want to know.”
“I found her on the beach that night in Miami. We just talked. For a long time we talked about everything. Her family, her dreams, why she’s so focused on doing everything perfectly.
” His expression grew more serious. “Did you know she grew up poor? Like, really poor? This tour is really important to her.”
I hadn’t known that. I’d never really thought about Simone’s background beyond her impressive organizational skills and ability to handle logistics nightmares.
“And then?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew where this was going.
“And then she kissed me,” Conroy said, grinning like an idiot. “Right there on the beach. Said she’d been wanting to do it for a long time but didn’t think I was interested in someone like her.”
“Someone like her?”
“Smart. Serious. Not the kind of woman who usually goes for guys like me.” He shrugged. “I mean, she’s right. I usually date party girls who think discussing wine pairings counts as intellectual conversation.”
This was the most self-aware I ever heard Conroy sound. Maybe Simone was having a good influence on him.
“So what’s the situation now?” I asked. “Are you two a thing?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. She’s been sending mixed signals since Miami. Hot and cold, you know? Yesterday on the plane.” He paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “Let’s just say the mile-high club gained two new members.”
I grimaced. “Fuck, Conroy. In the bathroom?”
“She dragged me in there! What was I supposed to do, say no?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. We’re on a professional tour, not spring break in Cancun.”
But even as I said it, I could hear the hypocrisy in my own voice. Hadn’t I been the one making out with Clementine in a hot tub just a few nights ago? At least Conroy and Simone were both adults without any family complications or power dynamics to worry about.
“Look who’s talking,” Conroy said, apparently reading my mind. “Speaking of mixed signals, what’s going on with you and Clementine?”
“Nothing’s going on with me and Clementine.”
“Bullshit. That woman looks at you like she simultaneously wants to murder you and jump your bones. It’s fascinating to watch.”
I turned away from him, ostensibly to unpack my bag but really to avoid having to maintain eye contact during this conversation. “It’s complicated.”
“How complicated can it be? You’re both adults, you’re both single, and the sexual tension between you two is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I think that’s what finally pushed me and Simone over the edge. All that sexual tension is contagious.”
“She’s Desman’s daughter.”
“So?”
“So that makes it complicated in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“Or it makes it simple. Rich girl, famous chef, mutual attraction. Sounds like a perfect match to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “What does Simone see in you?”
“Beats the shit out of me,” Conroy replied cheerfully. “You know, Simone and I had a whole plan to get you and Clem together tonight. Fate did it for us.”
I shot him a glare. “There’s no fate, Conroy. There’s just a hotel clerk who screwed up.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “But come on, Rhett. How often do you get a setup like this? One room, four people, and two undeniable sparks flying around?”
“Sparks?” I snorted, tossing my shirt onto the chair by the window. “The only sparks I see are the ones flying when she glares at me.”
“Exactly! She wouldn’t glare at you if she didn’t care. Women don’t waste energy on men they’re indifferent to. Trust me, I’ve been ignored by enough women to know the difference.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe, but I’m the idiot who’s currently sleeping with Simone. So maybe you should listen to me. I got the girl.”
“I don’t want the girl,” I said.
And we both knew it was a damn lie.