Chapter 18
Maeve
“I’d have my theoretical wedding reception here over the Guinevere any day.” I walk out into the middle of the open-air ballroom.
The Arden sits on the sixth-floor rooftop, stretching out below the upper-level suites. Raised decking forms a dance floor near the small bar and wicker seating area, and the clear glass railings offer a postcard-perfect vision of the pier, the Los Angeles skyline, and the Santa Monica mountains.
“There’s nearly a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of Southern California from here.” I keep pointing out the gorgeous scenery as if Kellin can’t see it. “The indoor ballroom is beautiful and flashy. But this… Why would anyone want an indoor reception in Los Angeles?”
Kellin grins. “Rain?”
“I’d roll the dice. And we have tents and space heaters, so the cold’s no excuse either.” I sink into a blue chair in the lounge area overlooking the Pacific and Kellin plops onto the sectional.
The tranquil ocean blue splits the blazing orange sun in half. This is my favorite time to be up here, when twilight wrestles with day and wins.
You simply can’t match this small slice of peace. The Arden is one of the few spots in the hotel where I can escape and truly be alone for a few minutes. With the exception of parties, no one uses this space, so we should be safe from interruptions.
Once we’re both comfortable, I set down the drinks I ordered from the bar downstairs. “Okay, so free your mind. This isn’t whiskey. Amaro’s traditionally served as a digestif, but we use this particular variety as an aperitif, to cleanse the palette before a meal and open up the tastebuds.”
Kellin sips as he reclines, a small, contemplative frown on his lips. “I don’t hate it.”
I laugh. Such a man answer.
He steals another sip. “It’s…spicy.”
“Chef Moreau ships it in from a small winery outside Florence. This amaro’s made from grapes, bitter herbs, aromatic bark, cardamom. Some are sweet, but not this one. We add the orange peel mostly for show.”
“No, I like it this way. I think my favorite thing about it is—”
“That it looks like rye whiskey?”
He snorts. “I was going to say that it’s not sweet at all. You think of liqueurs as those sticky, foo-foo type drinks.”
“So, what you’re saying is this drink is masculine enough for you?” I tease. “Your partners won’t harass you if they catch you drinking it?”
“My partners?”
I raise a brow at his apparent confusion. “At Zenith.”
“Oh.” He averts his attention to the amaro, as if he suddenly finds the liqueur truly fascinating.
“I think they’d approve. Does the Cypress have an extensive variety of wines from around the world too?
My partners will definitely be interested in that.
” Kellin crosses one leg over the other, shifting toward me.
I taste my own amaro to distract myself from the prickle along my neck.
I’m not even sure why I feel this way. “We do. We’ve really built up our selection since hiring Moreau.
He and I both prefer the prestige and pedigree of European vintages, so most of the Cypress’s collection comes from overseas.
Old World wine. Aged in French oak barrels.
Bordeaux, Chianti, Champagne that’s actually from the Champagne region in Northern France. No imposters inside these walls.”
“You’re beaming, you know.”
Am I? Suddenly self-conscious, I touch my cheeks. “It’s probably the alcohol. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
Kellin inches closer. “Or it’s because you’re talking about what you love.”
“Maybe.” I clear my throat. “The sommelier and our wine selection, like our chef, don’t come cheap.
But I think they help us stand out.” Kellin’s proximity floods my nerve endings with awareness.
I scoot away to clear the sudden fuzziness from my head.
“The ocean air doesn’t hurt either. Or cost a thing. ”
“I think management plays a role in the appeal.” Kellin studies me pointedly, his gaze feathering over my skin like a light breeze.
My cheeks burn, both from the compliment and his attention. “This was a nice idea.”
Kellin smiles, just a little, hiding the expression behind his drink. “Everyone needs a break, even when you love what you do. It’s important to recharge. Though it’s nice to see you light up whenever you talk about the Cypress.”
I scoff into my glass. “Did I mention we need a new boiler? And there’s a leak in one of the suites? An impending wedding? Am I lighting up like a Christmas tree now?” As much as I do appreciate a moment of respite, I can never quite escape the chaos.
While I love this hotel, battling to stay on top of everything all the time is exhausting.
Kellin shakes his head. “Stressors aside, I’m envious of your passion toward your career.”
“Aren’t you passionate about yours?” Hunting down investments isn’t exactly my idea of fun, but to each their own.
Kellin sets his drink down, his fingerprints disrupting the condensation on the glass. “Some projects are more enjoyable than others.”
He stares out over the railing, arms on his thighs, hands loose. At first glance, he appears relaxed, but I notice the way his eyes flicker, the downward twitch of his lips…
He’s frustrated.
My stomach flutters around my drink. Does he consider this project one of the more enjoyable ones? Or less? Does he regret our growing involvement over these past few days?
I down the rest of my amaro. Lingering on Kellin’s thoughts will be as fruitful as trying to drown a fish.
Seeking a temporary distraction, I scan the ballroom’s greenery. The potted plants set at carefully chosen intervals create the illusion of nature creeping back into the space. In the summer, we favor more tropical plant life, but for now, soft green palms and ferns populate the open-air ballroom.
They become magical at night, with the twinkling lights reflecting on the fronds…
Ah.
I rise as the sun melts into the horizon. “One second.”
A hidden panel in the bar opens to reveal a small system of knobs and buttons. With one click, a crisscrossing web of string lights flickers on over the Arden.
A canopy of a thousand stars blink overhead, dusting Kellin’s face in a soft, warm glow.
I reclaim my seat, inexplicably nervous about his reaction. Because I value his opinion. Not just as a potential investor, but on a personal level. I want him to like this.
Beneath the fairy lights, Kellin’s brown eyes shimmer as they trace the strings. “I understand why you direct all the couples toward this reception area. It’s very romantic.”
As he marvels over our artificial sparkling sky and the radiant horizon below, I steal the opportunity to study him.
The earlier hint of a frown has faded from his lips. The sharp line of his jaw has smoothed over. Relaxed.
I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed a minute to rest.
My fingers itch to loosen his paisley tie and unclasp the top few buttons of his pale cream shirt. To trace the edge of his collarbones and the sculpted muscle below them.
I clench my fingers on the arm of my chair. That’s couple behavior, and we’re not a couple.
My mind has gone completely off the rails. I blame Kellin. His interest in the Cypress, his energy, our electric chemistry… He’s responsible for my runaway fantasies.
But I have to admit that his being here has been a good thing.
I pick at the wicker on my chair. “You know, Kellin, I’d like to thank you for allowing me to see my hotel with fresh eyes.
As much as I love it, part of me was starting to…
I don’t know. I guess I was getting a little bitter about the weight of it all.
But then you just showed up and reminded me of all the best parts of the Cypress, and the timing was so perfect.
” Oh, crap. Why are my eyes burning? I duck my chin, fanning my fingers over my face to dry the tears. “Ignore me. This is so embarrassing.”
Kellin cups my cheek with a hand, angling my head to face him properly.
“I haven’t done anything worth thanking me for.
Everything great about this hotel was already here because of you.
” He hesitates before continuing. “I think it’s wonderful you found your calling, Maeve.
” His thumb strokes my lower lip, triggering the tingling that races through my body.
Am I wrong, or does he really see through me? Does he understand me beyond the manager persona I’ve cultivated for years?
Kellin drops his hand from my face and sits back. “Though I’m surprised you don’t have more support.”
I blink, a little cold from the loss of his touch. “I’ve got support. Lenora is amazing. I’d never last without her. And my managers—”
“I don’t mean employees. Your father’s a partner. Where is he? Or your brothers?”
The cold front blooms into a blizzard. Why would Kellin bring them up? Way to kill a mood.
As if I’m worried his statement summoned them, I sneak a peek in the direction of the penthouse. I can’t tell Kellin that if my father or brothers ventured out onto their balcony and walked to the glass railing, they’d immediately spot us and the light show below.
Kellin cranes his neck to investigate whatever snagged my attention.
“I don’t want my dad running the Cypress.
” When I touch his arm, his focus thankfully shifts back to me.
“We’ve always had very different…visions.
Besides, he thinks the place is beneath him.
My older brother Connor is too busy being a perfectionist with more important parts of the family businesses, and Brody’s too interested in keeping our dad happy.
I couldn’t even consider asking either of my brothers for help.
” I sigh and slouch a little. “That’s not a deal breaker, is it?
Surely you don’t need to work with them directly? ”
Kellin’s mouth tightens in a grimace. “No. It’s clear what you’ve accomplished here without them. I was thinking more about your stress levels.”