Chapter Nineteen
I stand in line at the check-in desk with my arms crossed and my toe tapping the marble while a family of nine hundred and forty-three people, all draped in floral-patterned shirts, crowd the reception area. It’s been fifteen minutes already, and I’m this close to hauling someone back by the collar and bulldozing my way through.
After storming away from Rafe last night, I didn’t see him again until this morning when I found him asleep on the couch. I guess our days of sharing the bed are over. Belinda finally responded to one of my many emails, claiming the room mix-up was an accident. She added that she called the hotel, and they had no other rooms to offer before assuring me we’d be just fine staying together. Thanks. So helpful.
But it’s no matter—today, I’m finding a new room for Rafe if I have to build it myself with some rusty nails and planks of desperation. I know they didn’t want me to ask again, but I’m losing my mind.
This morning, I dressed in my grey pencil skirt and a black T-shirt dotted with crystals. When I left the room, Rafe didn’t stir, and I harbor suspicions that he was pretending to be asleep. It seems like something he’d do.
Now, I’m waiting in the lobby, praying another room has opened up, but the human glacier wall in front of me isn’t moving. Nine hundred people need one million rooms, and I’m going to die waiting here.
I check my phone. This morning’s sessions are starting soon, and I’ll be late if I don’t get going, but I can’t spend another minute in that room with Rafe. It took me forever to fall asleep last night, even after I made use of my Sona 2 cranked up to level 12. But that totally backfired because it only made me think about Rafe and that kiss even more.
My thighs squeeze together with the intense recollection of Rafe’s iron-hard erection nestled between them. My hand flutters to my throat as I feel the burn of his mouth on my skin. I wonder if my Sona 2 has a power booster I can attach or something. This isn’t good. I have to think of something else.
“You coming?” I jump nearly a foot, entirely absorbed in my horny daydreams. It’s Andy, and he’s giving me an expectant look. “Class is starting soon.”
I look back towards the desk where the crowd is still six rows deep. These people probably took up every available room, anyway. I sigh. I’ll come back later and try again.
“Sure,” I say. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“Yeah. Allow me to escort you.” He gestures with a flourish, and I give him a tight smile because he’s trying to be cute. And he is cute. Maybe I need to give him a chance. It’s not his fault that Rafe appears to make him look bad every time he comes near me.
I stretch my smile wider, ignoring how forced it feels. If I’m considering breaking my personal stalemate and giving my attention to a man at WMC, then it should be this one. Or some other one. Or literally anyone who isn’t Rafe.
“I lost you last night,” he says as we walk towards the conference rooms. “You missed some good trivia.”
“I wasn’t feeling well.” I touch my forehead with the back of my hand as if to convince him of my lie.
“Are you still sick?” He frowns at my hand, and I snatch it away. I’m being ridiculous.
“No.” I shake my head. “Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t cure.”
“Oh, I’m glad to hear that.” He rubs his chin, looking a little unsure of himself. “I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner tonight? I hear there is a mean seafood spread at the Coconut Lounge.”
I don’t really want to. What I want is to survive this day, get Rafe out of my room, and spend the night with my smutty romance novel. But I already know that even if he’s physically removed from my presence, my imagination is vivid, and my obsession with Rafe is as familiar and inevitable as the sun rising over the horizon.
So, I look Andy in the eye and put on a smile that I hope is convincing.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
“Awesome,” he says, releasing a relieved puff of air.
We’ve just arrived at the conference room, where lines of tables are set up in rows. A whiteboard announces the day’s activities with bold black lettering that spells out Aptitude Test . I sigh. Another test.
“Should we say seven?” Andy asks, and I nod before he smiles and finds his seat. Lan and Gabrielle wave me over, and I slide in next to them, pulling my bag over my head and setting it on the ground.
“You missed our victory last night!” Gabrielle exclaims. “We won!”
“Amazing! What did you win?”
They exchange a pleased look. “A private yacht tour for four, including all the food and drinks you can consume,” Lan says.
“Congrats. That sounds incredible.”
“You’ll come along, right?” Lan asks. “It’s going to be so fun.”
“Sure. Of course. I’d love to. What about the fourth?”
Gabrielle’s expression turns sly. “We thought you might want to invite someone?”
Their gazes slide to Rafe, who’s settling himself across the room. His eyes find mine, and my cheeks warm as I turn back to my friends.
“Um, I’ll think about it.”
“Okay,” Lan says. “We’ll go sometime next week. We’re thinking the night before the training program announcements.”
I nod, fiddling with the pen in my hands. “Sure. Thank you.” They both look so hopeful that I don’t have the heart to tell them I won’t be inviting Rafe, but we’ll cross that bridge later. There’s still time. Maybe I’ll find someone else to fill this inconvenient ache in my… chest.
Several pieces of stapled paper are dropped in front of me, and I pick them up, trying to focus on the task at hand. Whistle Mouth stands at the front of the room, eyeing us with her unearned superiority. “Today, you will undergo a series of tests to determine your aptitude in specific areas such as verbal, numerical, or logical reasoning, as well as how you think, learn, communicate, and remember. There is no grade, and you cannot give a wrong answer. These tests are simply designed to determine your capacity to function in various contexts.”
I’m sure I’m not the only one thinking about how scary that sounds, as evidenced by the low murmur cycling through the room. We are definitely being graded on our answers.
Whistle Mouth calls for silence, and the room descends into the drone of concentration, the scratch of pencils, and the soft sounds of shuffling paper.
The first question is simple, and I nearly laugh at how obvious it is.
Which word describes you best? I’d rather be:
Thinking
Listening
Leading
Doing
Communicating
My pencil hovers over the empty circle next to leading , because I’m sure this is the correct answer. For a moment, I’m torn between responding the way they expect and how I really feel. I do want to lead, but maybe I’d actually rather be listening, and maybe that would make me a better leader.
Because I can’t seem to help myself, I look over at Rafe to find his head down and his dark hair falling into his eyes. I’ve done a lot of things in the past few weeks that some might call career-limiting moves. I blackmailed my boss and then made out with his son. And I can’t stop thinking about doing it again. The making out. Not the blackmail. Though I’m not ruling it out for future consideration.
Rafe said his father was pressuring him about the training program, and it occurs to me that it’s probably already been decided. I never stood a chance, and my answers don’t matter.
So, I look back at my paper and mount my own quiet rebellion by choosing to answer honestly. Maybe it really is time to give up on this and accept that while WMC was the only option I had five years ago, that isn’t true anymore. Despite everything, I’ve had the opportunity to cultivate many skills that would make me a valuable asset somewhere else.
Plus, I’m so tired of trying to win over a corporation that refuses to be won.
I darken the circle next to listening as pressure releases me from the box in which I’ve been contained. Maybe I’ll learn something important about myself instead of just being the person I think they all want me to be. I run through the rest of the questions on this test and every other one, being as honest and true to myself as I can.
Several hours later, we’re all tested out and finally allowed to go free. A low hum drones through the room as everyone discusses their answers and the questions. Rafe is watching me in a guarded way, but I turn away. I don’t know what I want to say to him, and I feel a headache coming on as pain forms behind my eyes.
My phone rings as I’m walking back to the suite. It’s Molly. I’ve been remiss in providing her with updates, so I dig out my earphones before answering and am greeted with a petulant lower lip thrust that would put most toddlers to shame.
“Hi,” I say. “I know. I know.”
“Where. Have. You. Been?”
“Busy?” My gaze darts away, knowing she’s about to call me on my bullshit.
“Trishara. Tell me what’s going on this instant. Why do you look so guilty?”
I look around. I’m alone, but I lower my voice anyway.
“We kissed.”
She leans in closer to the screen, scrunching her nose. “Who kissed?”
“Rafe. Me and Rafe—”
Molly lets out a screech so loud I almost drop the phone as she finishes off the final shreds of my eardrums that Whistle Mouth hasn’t already claimed.
“You kissed!”
“Yes. Stop freaking out!”
“Just a kiss?”
“Yes! Why?”
Her eyes grow so wide they fill the screen. “Why?! You kissed. I am so excited!” She screams again, and I flinch. “I can’t believe you stopped at a kiss and didn’t fuck each other senseless with all that pent-up angst .”
“What are you talking about? There is no angst!”
She rolls her eyes. “Tris, you can’t possibly expect me or anyone to believe that you haven’t been into Rafe for years.”
I open my mouth and close it. “What do you mean, anyone? Who else knows this?”
She laughs, covering her mouth, the screen blurring as she folds at the waist. “Him?”
“You know my rule on dating at WMC.”
“I do, and I understand why you think you need to cling to it. But what happened was years ago, and rules are made to be broken. Rafe isn’t Leo. If you’d pull your head out of your ass, you would have realized that a long time ago.”
I press my lips together. “I don’t know if I can break this rule.”
“Yes, you can. Especially when the reason is six-plus feet of gorgeous.”
“Shut up,” I say. “He’s not that good-looking. He’s a seven at best.”
Molly snorts so hard I worry she’s blown a nostril. “Yeah, sure. You basically melt every time he walks into the room.”
I sag against the wall. “Molly. It was the most amazing kiss I’ve ever had. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Her smile stretches so wide I can see every one of her teeth.
“And now?” she asks.
“Now, we yelled at each other and are pretending like it never happened.”
She blows out a breath, fluffing the bangs that have fallen over her eyes. “Typical.”
“I’m going on a date with Andy tonight,” I add.
“Excuse me? Why?”
“’Cause I can’t stop thinking about Rafe.”
“I’m sure that must make sense in your mind.”
I rub my temple as my head starts to pound. “Molly. I gotta go lie down.”
“Okay. Tris—I want details immediately when you both finally cave.”
“We’re not having sex,” I declare just as an elderly couple shuffles by where I’m standing in front of the elevator. They regard me with judgment, and I hunt for a rock to climb under.
“You are definitely having sex,” Molly says. “You’ve finally cracked the pull tab, and it’s only a matter of time before the pressure blows off the lid.”
“Well, that’s very poetic,” I say, and she snickers.
Is she right? Do I want her to be?
Just then, Rafe appears around the corner and stops to wait for the elevator beside me. Molly screams again, shouting Rafe’s name so loud my ears nearly bleed.
“Rafe! Hi, Rafe!”
I pull out my earbud, but that’s a rookie mistake, because the tinny sound of her voice fills the air. I make out the words kissed , fuck , and Trishara before I slam the disconnect button in mortification. When I get home, I’m going to tie her up, throw her in the back of my trunk, and dump her in the Chicago River.
The elevator chimes, and Rafe and I step inside. I refuse to look at him, but I can see his reflection in the shiny metal door as he watches me from the corner of his eye. Did he hear that? If I pretend it never happened, then it didn’t. Sure, that works.
When we arrive on our floor, I practice my hundred-meter dash and bolt for our room.
Slamming the bedroom door behind me, I pop some painkillers and fire off a text to my parents to let them know I’m alive.
Then I decide to take a nap. I set an alarm for my date with Andy and flop on the bed, thinking of bottomless brown eyes and messy dark hair as I drift off to sleep.
The alarm goes off sooner than I’d like. I jolt awake, blinking through the fogginess of sleeping in the afternoon. I flop onto my back and stare at the ceiling for several minutes before I will myself up. Still dressed in my skirt from earlier, I pull down the zip, let it drop to the floor, and step out before heading for the closet.
I pick a halter sundress that falls past my knees. Something very different from the outfit I wore last night, lest I give Andy any unintentional ideas.
I put on some light makeup and brush my hair, deciding not to fuss with it too much. While my headache has somewhat subsided, a throb persists behind my left eye. I consider texting Andy and canceling about a thousand times, but then I think about Rafe and our kiss and the montage of filthy dreams I just had.
I need to try something to get him out of my head.
Eventually, I convince myself to leave. When I enter the living room, I spy Rafe on the balcony talking on his phone. The door is slightly cracked open, and I can just make out the sound of his voice. I turn away to leave, hoping he won’t notice me, when I hear him say Hannah’s name.
I shouldn’t have done that.
That sick feeling and Rafe’s words come back from last night. I can’t help but think of Leo in that moment. He was always taking private phone calls, too. Checking in on his other girlfriend while I sat in the dark like a fool. I know it’s not the same situation, but it still feels a bit too close to home.
Rafe kissed me last night, and now he’s talking to Hannah again.
Resolving to move past Rafe, I head for the Coconut Lounge, where I agreed to meet Andy. Is there an irony that coconut was my safe word last night?
He’s already waiting for me in shorts and a T-shirt at the entrance. Rafe wore something similar last night, but the effect is completely different, and I scold myself for comparing them. The point of this date is to stop thinking about him.
Andy. I am focused on Andy. Or anyone besides Rafe. I’d have dinner with a cactus right now.
I flash the brightest smile I can summon before we’re led to a table on a balcony overlooking the water.
The waiter runs over the menu options, and we place our orders. I’m quiet because I’m not feeling well and don’t really want to be here. Thankfully, Andy doesn’t seem to notice as he keeps up a stream of chatter. At least he’s got that going for him.
We’re interrupted by other WMCers passing by and saying hello a few times.
The date is fine. There’s nothing specifically wrong with Andy. He’s attractive and clearly smart, but I can’t keep pretending I’m ever going to be into this. I already promised myself that he would have to be worth it if I took the chance and broke my rule about dating someone at the office. And I know Andy isn’t.
Once dinner is over, he suggests a walk. I’m about to say no when I think of that suite with its closed walls and Rafe filling every corner. I’m torn between wanting to run back to him and staying as far away as possible.
I agree to the walk and immediately regret it because what could be more romantic than walking on a beach in Hawaii with the wind tossing our hair backdropped by the soft, harmonious sounds of the hotel bars and restaurants? Eventually, we stop and admire the clear star-strewn sky.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he says.
“It was just a long day,” I reply, giving him a small smile. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” He falls quiet for a moment, and the tension creeps between us. This would be the perfect moment to kiss if we were in a movie. It’s a romance setting come to vivid life.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he ventures, and I consider making a joke about how I know that, but I’ve done that before, and it always seems to catch men off guard. What I’m supposed to do is pretend I don’t think I’m beautiful and act like he’s the one handing this knowledge to me.
“Thanks,” I say instead, and he steps closer. I don’t move back because if he wants to kiss me, I’ll let him. I haven’t stopped thinking about Rafe at all tonight, and maybe a kiss from someone else will force him out.
Andy’s head lowers, and he brushes his lips against mine, and… it’s nice. He presses a little more firmly, and… it’s fine. This is all fine.
Wow , this is nothing like Rafe. This is a kiss I’m used to. This is a kiss I’ve experienced plenty of times.
But I’ve looked into the sun and cant ever go back. Rafe has ruined me forever.
I break away and step back. This isn’t working. The only thing I’m thinking about is Rafe. This was a dumb idea.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say. “It was nice.”
“You’re going?” Andy asks with a question in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I say again, putting my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, I guess I still haven’t recovered from last night. Thanks again. Dinner was great. I’ll see you later?”
“I’ll walk you back to your room,” he says, his tone taking on a shred of aggression that I don’t care for.
“That’s okay,” I reply, yanking my arm from his grip. “Stay here and enjoy the beach. It’s a gorgeous night. I heard the others are meeting at the Rainbow Bar. You should join them.”
I keep my tone light.
Andy clenches his jaw.
“Sure,” he replies after a moment.
Maybe a former Trishara would feel bad about how I’ve acted tonight. I should never have agreed to this. I used him to get someone else out of my system, which was a dick move, but it turns out he’s also kind of a dick himself, and I’m already moving away.
“Good night,” I say, trying to sound brighter than I feel, relieved when he doesn’t try to follow.
Before I go upstairs, I detour to the front desk, intending to ask about another room. Thankfully, the reception area is now blessedly free of Hawaiian-shirt-clad families.
However, my old friend Kalena is there, and her smile falters as I approach.
“Hi, me again.” I give her a little wave. “Just wondering if any rooms have opened up yet?”
“I’m sorry, but the room we had is gone now.”
“What room?”
A furrow creases her brow. “I called up and spoke with Mr. Gallagher earlier. He said you’d no longer be needing a second room, so I gave it away. I apologize if I misunderstood. I can certainly let you know if anything else comes free, but we’ve just filled right back up again.”
My mouth opens as I freeze.
“We’re hosting a lot of conferences and weddings,” she adds, clearly prepared for me to make another scene.
“He did what?” I ask.
Kalena blinks. “He said you were fine and wouldn’t need a second room. Again, I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “No… that’s okay…” Now I’m completely puzzled. “This afternoon? Today?”
“Yes,” she says, looking around as if she thinks she’s about to get in trouble. “He seemed quite certain.”
This afternoon. After he told me that we shouldn’t have kissed. After we’d just spent the day avoiding each other. After he moved back to the cramped couch. After he was on the phone with Hannah.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
I turn away and head for the elevators, more confused than ever.