Chapter 2
DRAKE
"Welcome to Maxwell Hotels," the bellboy said, smiling at me. I tipped him generously just before closing the door.
I tilted my head to the left and then to the right, stretching my neck.
It was stiff from the flight. Although the tension I’d accumulated in my body had nothing to do with the plane and its tight accommodations.
The past eight weeks had been a shit show for my sister.
I'd done my best to help from a distance, but it hadn’t been much support.
That was why I was back in Chicago. Things were going to get back to normal soon.
I glanced around the room. The first impression was good.
The Maxwell Hotel was new on the scene, which was one of the reasons it hadn't been my first choice for a job.
I'd worked exclusively in large chains before, but Travis Maxwell talked a big game.
He spoke about expansion and creating a legacy for his family.
I liked what I'd heard, but I wasn't sold on the work ethic. Everyone seemed to take a long time to do anything I asked for, and I predicted I’d clash with many on his team.
I was already butting heads with Kimberly Maxwell.
Not the best start, but I didn't like to pretend. I called things as I saw them.
I rolled my suitcase deeper inside the room, debating if I should call my sister. Nah, she was probably exhausted even though it wasn't too late in the evening. I'd catch up with her tomorrow.
I was too restless to stay in the room, and I wanted to explore the hotel by myself.
Now was as good a time as any, and since it was almost eight o'clock, I assumed a lot of activity would be occurring at the bar.
I could see the hotel from a customer's point of view.
Prime time for me to observe the staff in action and judge their efficiency and customer friendliness.
I could also watch the reactions of the customers.
I changed my shirt, putting on a black one and rolling up the sleeves.
I wasn't going to introduce myself by name because I really didn't want anyone to know who I was.
I presumed no staff member would know about me yet, or at least no one would recognize me; I'd only spoken via video with Travis and Kimberly Maxwell until now.
Once I was ready, I went straight to the elevator. When the doors opened, there were two couples inside, chatting excitedly about Chicago. Tourists. I had to give it to the Maxwells—they'd managed to attract a good mix of tourists and businesspeople to their hotel.
When the door opened upstairs in the bar, I was doubly impressed. It was far busier than I expected it to be for a weekday, especially because the hotel wasn't fully booked; I’d checked that when I arrived. That meant they had locals here too. Another point for the business.
I inspected the crowd, looking at the staff moving around efficiently with trays and whatnot. There wasn’t a line at the bar, which was a good sign, as it meant they kept things moving. Plus it was an indicator that people were happy with the service they received at their tables.
Speaking of tables, there were absolutely none free.
There were enough empty seats at the bar, so that's where I headed. A familiar face seated by the window caught my eye. Kimberly Maxwell. She was talking to a man. It was probably a business meeting, but this late? That was commitment. Maybe her work ethic was better than I thought.
Even from a distance, I could tell she was very attractive. I’d been stunned by her beauty when we first connected for a video call. I couldn't find one picture of her or Travis Maxwell online before that, so it had been a shock to my system to see her. She was striking.
That's not why you’re here, Drake. Get your shit together.
Turning to the bartender, I ordered. "Moscow Mule, please."
"Right away, sir. Are you alone this evening?"
"Yes."
Kimberly
This was, without exaggeration, the most boring date I'd ever been on.
Patrick talked nonstop about his work as a data analyst. I couldn't understand how he couldn't tell I wasn’t interested.
Then again, I'd already faked three work emergencies, and he'd insisted on waiting for me until I finished them each time.
The guy couldn't take a hint. I plastered on a fake smile when he started talking about the application of data analysis in animal migration.
I loved all animals, but I sincerely did not want to hear a documentary during a date.
"Patrick, I'm sorry to interrupt again, but I need to go see Thomas. He gestured for me to join him. I think it might be something that will take a while, so if you want to go—"
"No, no. I'll wait," he said with a smile. "We can continue the conversation when you're back."
Holy shit. I had to figure something out when I returned, because he wasn’t going to get my subtle hints.
I went to Thomas with quick steps, trying to look like a woman preparing herself to solve a crisis.
When I reached him, I said, "I need a strong drink, please."
"Guy won't budge, huh?" Thomas asked, snickering at my distress.
"Nope. This is the fourth emergency I’m faking. I should tell him a pipe burst somewhere in the basement and I have to go oversee the repairs myself."
"That sounds far-fetched," Thomas said.
"I know. I just can't come up with something better right now, and I hate being rude."
I heard a chuckle from somewhere beside me. Apparently a customer who was eavesdropping and probably having the time of his life. Whatever. I was certain that when I thought back to this night, I’d laugh with my sister about it, but right now I was just trying to end it.
"Why did you even agree to date him in the first place?” Thomas asked.
“You know how things are when you connect online.
You can't tell if you'll click with the person or not until you see them face-to-face. Should have gone with my gut.” Then it dawned on me.
“Oh, I know what I can tell him. We have an emergency in the supply room, and I have to go in the back and deal with it, and it'll take the rest of the evening. "
Thomas cocked a brow as he handed me my drink.
"He'll probably still want to wait for you, or, even better, he'll come back with you and help you fix it."
"Doubtful.” I grinned. "He's been telling me about data analysis and animal migration. Only way he’d help is by putting everyone to sleep."
"Pardon my French, but just tell him to fuck off," Thomas said, making me laugh. "You have no problem telling people off."
"That's right, I don't. But he seems so… I don't know, into it. And so naive. I mean, he probably thinks I'm having a good time, which is insane."
True, I had no problem telling people off, but also, I didn’t like hurting people for no reason. Patrick probably wasn't a bad guy. He just wasn't my type. I needed to let him down gently, but I just wasn't sure how.
"Okay. I’m going to go forward with my original plumbing excuse. Fingers crossed that it works."
I heard another chuckle as I headed to the table. I wanted to turn back and give the eavesdropping asshole a piece of my mind, but they were a customer, and that wouldn’t be acceptable behavior on my part. Even if it was rude of them to listen in on someone else’s conversation.
"Everything okay?" Patrick asked with a polite smile as he took a sip from his drink.
"Actually, no. Tom got some news from downstairs. The technical team says we have a pipe problem."
"Oh, what exactly happened? Maybe I could help."
Well, damn. Tom was right. "No, I wouldn't want to keep you from anything. And there’s legal liabilities and all that, so it's best if we call it a night and—”
"Nonsense, I'll wait here for you. It can't take that long. After all, it's not like you'll fix it yourself. I'm assuming professionals will come and handle it."
"Yes," I replied, choosing my next words carefully, “but I want to supervise them while they repair it. I'm responsible for the comings and goings in this hotel. I'm going to—"
My mouth fell open as a man came over to us and sat in the third chair at the table. Drake DuGray. What is he doing here?
"Hi," he said, looking straight at me. "Kimberly Maxwell, right?"
"Yes," I said, confused. He knew who I was, so why would he ask me that? Then he turned to Patrick. "And you must be date number one. I’m her second date for the evening, so it's time for you to take a hike, buddy."
Patrick's eyes bulged almost comically. "You're what?" he sputtered, looking from me to him. I was too shocked to say anything. "You have another date in the same evening?"
Completely taken aback by Drake’s interruption, I tried to think of something to say. "Patrick, I should—"
"She tried to give you hints, man," Drake said, smirking. He was clearly enjoying this. The bastard.
"Really?" Patrick asked.
"She told you she had emergencies three different times. Or was it four?”
Wait a second. He was the one who’d eavesdropped on me at the bar. He was the one who chuckled.
Patrick was now red in the face. I wanted to slap that smirk off Drake for making this an extremely uncomfortable situation. Patrick had been a bit annoying, but this was humiliating for him.
He stood up, saying, "Kimberly, I think you and I want different things in life."
"Yes." I nodded because that was true. He enjoyed dates where he talked about data analytics. I didn't. "Thank you for tonight, Patrick. I'm sorry it ended this way."
"Second date. The nerve," he said, looking between Drake and me before he left.
I took in a deep breath. Nope, that isn't going to help me right now.
"What the hell?" I asked him.
"You seemed to need help. The plumbing excuse didn't work."
"Why were you eavesdropping?"
"It’s not like I had to make an effort. You weren't exactly keeping it a secret."
What a smug….
"Regardless, that doesn't give you the right to interfere in my affairs."
"No, but think about it. Where would you be if I hadn't? Still listening to… what was it? 'Data analytics in animal migration'? What the hell even is that?"
"That is none of your business." I felt flustered all of a sudden.
He trained his eyes on me. They were the most vibrant green I'd ever seen.
They caught my attention during the job interview as well, but I'd hoped it had been a fluke of the light.
Clearly it hadn't. It was super dark in here, but his eyes still stood out. Not that it mattered. The guy was an asshole. Even more so than I’d thought.
I scoffed. "I can't believe you did that."
"I can't believe you’d have a date at your place of work. Who does that? It's highly unprofessional."
Until now, Drake DuGray had only managed to annoy me, but now he'd pissed me off.
"Not that it's any of your business"—I emphasized every word, trying and failing to keep my voice calm. I wasn’t yelling, but you could tell I wanted to—"but I do that for safety reasons, especially when I’m not sure if it’s someone I’m interested in.
It gives me good reasons to escape the situation if need be. "
"Why even bother if you’re not sure?"
"Because sometimes people don't have great communication skills online, but they're much better in person. That doesn't seem to be the case with you."
My voice was shaking. I was about to lose my cool.
"You seemed like an arrogant, self-absorbed ass in your emails," I continued, "and I see you're the same now. I was hoping for some redeeming qualities when I saw you. Clearly I'd set my hopes too high."
"If that's what you think about me, why did you hire me?" Drake asked.
"You seem very good at your job."
He leaned in, putting his forearms on the table. Damn, he was sexy.
Doesn't matter, Kimberly. He's still a royal asshole.
"You don't know anything about me, Kimberly. Don't assume, and don't guess. You're not good at any of it.”
He rose to his feet and walked away.
I blew out a huge breath. Holy shit, that was the worst start of a working relationship I'd ever had.
I called him an asshole to his face. How did that happen?