12. CHAPTER TWELVE
I glance at the top right-hand corner of the computer screen, I’ve not moved from behind for the past four hours.
It’s ten past eleven, and guest number fifty-seven has finally decided to grace us with her presence. Clip-clopping her way towards the desk in a pair of giant heels with a fur coat draped over her shoulders, it is one of the most ghastly examples of mutton dressed up as lamb I’ve ever seen. Choosing me, she dumps her designer handbag on the black marble countertop, and I half expect a rat dog to pop its head out. But instead, she huffs indignantly and starts digging around inside it like it’s the bottomless bag from Mary Poppins.
Snickering at my potential misfortune, Kai takes a few steps closer. Standing behind me and just off to one side, he looks over my shoulder at the screen. Or pretends to, anyway. The weight of his presence is so immense it takes me several seconds to realize the guest is waving her room key in my face.
Forcing a smile, I take it from her, scan it, and try my best not to let my reaction at the size of her bill show on my face.
“How was your stay with us, Mrs Starwoski?” I ask politely and print the bill.
“Adequate, I suppose.” Her pearl earrings swing as she sharply spins her head to the side, making me privy to the mass of wrinkles she’s trying to hide with her oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses.
“Well, I’m sorry we couldn’t have made it more to your liking,” I force out with sickly sweet insincerity. And I suddenly feel much more comfortable that Kai is so close.
Taking the bill from me, the guest taps her own pen on the marble. Her eyes keenly scrutinizing every charge.
“Here we go,” Kai whispers, creeping closer. And with a quick glance down, I can see one of his feet is between mine. My right hand grips onto the mouse for dear life and I have to ball my left into a fist to keep from reaching behind and feeling his thigh.
“Absolutely terrible. I never made this charge.”
Shaken, I remember my place. “I’m sorry. Did you give your card—”
“And here again! Every day, in fact. This makes me look like an alcoholic.”
“My apologies, Mrs Starwoski,” Kai speaks up. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
The thigh I wanted to so desperately touch just seconds ago is now pushing against the back of my leg as he reaches for the bill. But he doesn’t ease back. He places the paper beside the keyboard, rests his weight on the ball of one hand, and pivots his hips to press himself against my side.
Can she see?
Honestly, I don’t think so. This guest is too self-consumed to notice anything beyond the end of her own nose, but I wouldn’t have cared if she could because this feeling is everything. It has to be what girls feel like when—after making eyes at me all night—I corner them, back them against the wall, and cage them with my arm. They play coy, sometimes pretending to be scared at what I could do to them, but they’re silently counting down with bated breath the seconds until I show them who’s in charge…
“It’s Jean’s first day, so it is possible a mistake was made.”
No, there isn’t. Kai knows just as well as I do the system would never be wrong this many times.
“Was there any chance you loaned your key card to another guest?”
“No,” she snaps at him with an air of offense in her voice.
“Then perhaps, did you leave it unattended?”
“What do you take me for, young man? I’m not an idiot. I was educated at Barnard.”
Well, la-di-fucking-da, lady!
I’m about as triggered as I can get.
I’d bet my entire year’s wages that I’m set to inherit more wealth than this bitch has managed to fuck her way underneath of. Though, unlike her, I know money doesn’t buy respect or manners. But to dare throw around being educated at a half-rate university like it means she can’t be questioned? I just graduated from UCL and have a Master's position waiting for me at Imperial College London. And both of them shit on Barnard. So if she wants to talk about how an education equals unquestionable intelligence, she picked the wrong day to try to muscle her way out of paying for her obvious problem with excess control.
Inhaling sharply and preparing myself to clap back, my hips are thrust against the edge of the desk as Kai pushes harder into me, and my mind goes blank. In an instant, nothing in the world matters except for how the outline of Kai’s dick feels against my outer thigh.
He isn’t hard, but I am.
His body is scorching.
His words are virtually incoherent in my ear.
“Unfortunately, Mrs Starwoski, if neither of those things occurred, then it is your bill to pay.”
This is going to be one of those times where Kai doesn’t let the guest win.
All three of us know she ordered those drinks and thinks she can bully us into not charging her, so she doesn’t have to explain the giant charge to her credit card when she returns home to husband number eight. Her reasoning is completely invalid, but fuck, this isn’t even about her anymore. She’s purely a pawn in Kai’s game.
“I’d like to speak to your supervisor.”
“I am the supervisor. How may I help you?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the sass in his tone.
Mrs Starwoski lowers her sunglasses and peers over them at Kai before drifting to me. “I don’t think the pair of you could supervise anything if you tried,” she says snidely.
Kai leans forward—his chest against my arm. His voice is low and calm. “And I don’t think your husband would appreciate a call about how his wife won’t pay her bill. That could be quite embarrassing for him.”
In a huff, she dives into her handbag to retrieve her wallet. Her way too long manicured fingernails tap against the plastic as she holds out her black American Express card.
With a tilt of his head, Kai says, “Thank you so much for understanding, Mrs Starwoski,” and grinds against me as he places the bill back in front of her. “Don’t forget to sign.”
I’m obsolete at this point.
The remainder of the transaction is a blur of sarcastically disingenuous pleasantries, and I’m furious at myself for how little effort it took for Kai to completely incapacitate me.
He may have won this battle, but I swear I’m going to win the war.
Once Mrs Starwoski is gone, Kai steps back, and I whip my head to look at him. But I don’t dare move away from the counter. “What the fuck was that?”
His lips contort into a sly simper, and he lowers his chin to look at me through lidded eyes. “You declared the game was on, Jean. I’m just playing by your rules.”
But that’s just the thing. There are no rules. Kai is the Enigma Machine, and I’m Alan Turing, desperately inventing the computer to try and figure out what the fuck he’s playing at.
Gathering my nerve, I glance at his crotch. He may not have been hard before, but he is now. “I’m starting to think you’re full of shit.”
“Why do you say that?” he asks smugly, knowing what I saw.
“You’re turned on. You didn’t think you would be… You thought you could just fuck with me, but it backfired.”
“I’ve made it no secret I find you attractive, Jean. So I don’t understand why you’re still in so much denial.”
“Because you also said you don’t like guys.”
“No. I said I hadn’t, then I met you. And…” He moves closer until his body is at a ninety-degree angle to mine, and leans sideways on the counter. “I remember you saying you were straight. Yet you seem too scared to move. Now why could that be?”
Fuck him. He knows why. But no matter how unashamed he might be about it, for me, that’s more easily said than done. This is what I wanted, though a hypothesis and reality often reach different conclusions. And turning around means putting out into the universe that this is the direction my life will take.
“Would it help if I called you Jesse? I’ll call you whatever you like.”
“It would help if you said what you actually feel. Everything you say sounds like a rehearsed line.”
My eyes follow Kai’s as he looks down, his fingers running over the bulge in his khakis. “I like you, Jesse. At least he does, anyway.” Then his gaze is back on me. “No man has ever done this to me before. And… I think you know how that feels.”
Breathing deeply, I turn to face him and watch his lips curl when his eyes drop to my pants. “So what do you plan on doing about it?”
“Me?” he chuckles. “I don’t plan on doing anything except to continue playing this game of yours. I love a tease. And seeing you get so worked up turns me the fuck on.”
“Fuck you,” I grit out, sickened by how much I enjoy being played with.
“Maybe one day if you’re lucky.”
Lust-fuelled spite has me continuing to stare at Kai as he strolls slowly backwards, because I don’t want the interaction to be over.
“Ah, good, no more guests.” The reception door swings open and in walks another new person.
Quickly, I spin back to the desk.
“Morning, Esther,” Kai greets flippantly from the black-hole corner, already retrieving his phone from the drawer.
“Come on, Kai. Could you show me a little more respect in front of the new staff, please?” she huffs, sidling up to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jean,” she says, holding out her hand for me to shake and I shudder at her pronunciation. “What’s so funny?” she asks, giving Kai the stink eye.
“He prefers Jesse. And it’s Jean. You’re from Montreal. You should know that.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry Jean— I mean, Jesse. I’ll be sure to have that printed on your name tag as well… Anyway, I’m Esther, the front-of-house supervisor. You know, bell boys, concierge, all that. I’m pretty easy to get along with, which I’m sure you already picked up on.” She gestures to Kai, scrolling through his phone. “Just make sure you do your job well and we won’t have any problems.”
Her smile is warm, and I nod in reply. “Pretty sure I’ve got the hang of the check-out system already.”
“I’m not surprised.” Esther makes her way to the concierge computer by Kai. “This one will take a little longer. Have you printed out the manual yet?” she asks him.
“Just getting on that now.” Pushing off the wall, Kai throws his phone in the drawer, nudges it closed with his hip, and walks to the computer he used all morning without even looking at our boss.
“Why the hell do I put up with you?”
“Because I’m fucking amazing at my job and the guests love me.” He turns around, a cheesy fake grin plastered on his face.
Esther nods, you’re right, and addresses me again. “Learn from him, but not all of his traits. Promise?” she smirks.
“Promise.”
“Perfect. You can have your lunch break now.”