7. Jess
Ikeep my back straight and my head high like the queen I am as I walk toward the conference room, smiling confidently at the staff and guests I pass.
However, the moment I walk through the door of the conference room, my metaphorical crown drops to my feet with a thunk.
I stop dead in my tracks, my smile faltering.
I blink.
No.
Wait, what?
This can’t be happening. I must be hallucinating.
What’s he doing here? I want to ask him, but I just stare at my hallucination.
To my absolute horror, my neighbor, the one I haven’t been able to stop obsessing about, the one whose nine-inch dick I had seen and who made me come harder than I ever have in my life, is sitting at the conference table next to Norman.
This can’t be right. He can’t be here. Because if he’s here, that means…
Oh, no. Nonono.
He didn’t recognize me last night, and for a brief moment, I pray he doesn’t recognize me again. It’s possible. First time: yogurt-cucumber mask, second time: dramatic nighttime makeup, now: pale as death, with burning hot cheeks.
Unfortunately, my uncanny resemblance to the Boogeyman himself doesn’t work in my favor.
When he looks in my eyes, it’s clear he knows exactly who I am. The glimpse of recognition lasts exactly for a millisecond, then he reveals nothing. His expression is composed, perfectly concealing what he’s thinking.
Now that’s composure.
My face starts to grow hotter, and I know I must be brighter than red. Curse my pale skin. His poker face is gold standard. Mine? More like a neon sign.
Norman stands from his seat and moves around the table as I approach them. “Jess, there you are! This is the new co-owner, Mr. Sean Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Hotels Resorts,” he says. “Mr. Blackwood, this is Jessica Summers.”
We shake hands.
So much for Peter.
He’s a Sean.
“Although,” Norman says, “judging by your reaction, I take it you two know each other already?”
I won’t go as far as to say we know each other.
We’ve seen each other naked and made out at a bar while he rubbed my clit. Oh, God. My new co-owner rubbed my clit. He didn’t just touch me, he ate me out.
And now we have to work together.
Closely.
Every day.
The universe has a sick sense of humor.
Never in a million years did I think my Spider-Man was him. Him, of all people. My cold, unfriendly next-door neighbor. He’s about as far from a neighborhood guardian as you can get! In fact, he’s the type to terrify trick-or-treaters rather than hand out candy!
“We’ve run into each other once or twice,” Sean says. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Ms. Summers.” There’s a hardness in his expression that is more rigid than what he’s presented so far. The way he glares at me, it’s anything but nice to officially meet.
Also, what did he say? “Run into each other?” Is that what he’s calling it? And what’s with the roughness of his voice? What the hell did I ever do to him?
He clearly doesn’t get laid enough. (Which is not my fault.)
“You as well,” I say, trying—and failing—to sound equally cold. At least I remember my manners. “I apologize for my initial astonishment. Your presence caught me off guard.”
Norman offers me a seat at the table across from Sean, and I slip into it.
“Right, I’m sure I did.” He shifts his attention away from me and back to Norman. “As I was saying, you made the right decision, Mr. Whitman. Westerlyn will be well looked after. Congratulations, again.”
Now I’m annoyed for a different reason.
He ditches me last night, then acts indifferent this morning as he casts me aside. What a monster! He’s being so stiff and formal. Granted, the grouchiness from yesterday wasn’t exactly icing on the cake, but I’d prefer that to whatever this version of him is.
Swallowing my rage and reminding myself to remain positive, I take a deep breath and cross one leg over the other. In no way am I showing him how much he affects me.
Does he still have my panties?
Norman sits next to me, his body somewhat tense now that he’s realized Sean Blackwood and I have some kind of history.
“I don’t doubt that you have Westerlyn’s best interest at heart,” Norman says to him, trying to forge ahead through the awkwardness. “I want to thank you again for your help throughout this process.” Turning to me he adds, “Mr. Blackwood and his team have a remarkable history of success. I’m confident that their goals align with ours, and I’m leaving you in good hands.”
Good hands.
I know just how good those hands really are.
Sean addresses me, saying, “Rest assured, Ms. Summers, your efforts are recognized. I know we can take Westerlyn Hotels to the next level.”
Despite the predicament we find ourselves in, his words are reassuring, and I take a deep breath. I have to think of the hotel chain and my staff and let go of my anger. It’s easy enough to do as I’ve never been one to hold a grudge. I also don’t want to make this transition more difficult than it’s going to be. Norman deserves to retire without worry. Not to mention, the sale is final, and there’s no magical “undo” button in sight.
“That sounds nice,” I say, keeping my tone light. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I do have a lot of questions about what this transition is going to entail and what our partnership is going to look like.”
“I’m sure you do. As do I.” Sean directs his attention to Norman. “I think we have it all covered here,” he says. “Thank you for facilitating the introduction. Is there anything else we can do for you?”
Norman blinks.
Wait. Did he just dismiss Norman?
He totally did. He sure wastes no time taking charge. The ink isn’t even dry on the contract yet!
“Oh, right,” Norman says, flabbergasted, and stands. “Right. I think that’s all. Sarah will get you the folders you requested.” He glances from him to me, and his smile makes a return. “Jess, I know this is going to be a big change…”
“Norman, I’ll be fine,” I assure him, rising to my feet. “I’m so happy for you, and I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too, kid.” He pats my shoulder. “I’ll go wrap a couple of things up, and then I’m out of here.”
“Enjoy your retirement, Mr. Whitman,” Sean says. There isn’t a smile on his face.
I watch Norman walk out of the room, and when the door falls closed behind him, I find myself unable to keep from getting emotional.
One word: brutal.
No, scratch that—brutal doesn’t even come close.
That dismissal was utterly ruthless, as if it were just another routine for him, as if he carries out such acts every day without a second thought. It sure doesn’t add any sweetness to the bitter pill.
I breathe out, trying to calm myself, and sit back down. Sadness starts to well inside of me. The last thing I want to do is cry in front of him.
Quickly, I tell myself that Norman is not leaving for good right this second. Besides, it’s not like now that he’s retired, I’m never going to hear from him again. I hear Bali is a hoot this time of year. Sunny. Breezy. Cocktails galore. However, it still tugs on my heart. After all the long nights and hard work we’ve put into this place, it won’t be the same without him.
My sentiments are pushed to the side when it dawns on me that I’m now alone with Sean Blackwood.
I turn to face him, only to find him already staring at me.