Chapter 4 Kimberly
KIMBERLY
In the last work sprint before lunch, I emailed yet another group of review sites and influencers, inviting them to our start-of-the-year party.
I'd come up with the idea before Christmas. Everyone was used to New Year’s Eve parties or New Year's Day brunches, but I didn’t want to throw our party so close to the beginning of the year, since most people were still away from Chicago and on vacation during that time.
Instead, I proposed we hold the start-of-the-year party one week later.
We'd send invitations to all the locals who had signed up for the bar’s newsletter.
Once I sent those out, I texted Reese.
Me: Are we on for lunch?
Reese: No, sorry. I got caught up in a last-minute meeting. I was just about to text you.
What a shame. I’d been looking forward to more of her musings over lunch. Verbal sparring with my sister was one of my favorite activities. It wasn't easy to do over the phone.
There was a deli across the street that sold the most delicious chicken club sandwiches. They were full of mayonnaise, and I wanted to treat myself today.
I bundled up, putting on my suit jacket, then my coat and my scarf before taking the elevator downstairs.
I walked through the lobby, glancing to my left and my right.
The line to the reception counter was short.
The customers sitting on the couches I'd set up specifically for the check-in process were already sipping their mimosas. Everything was running smoothly.
Outside, it was brutal. I immediately rearranged my giant scarf to cover my head as well, keeping it in place with both hands to shield myself from the wind.
They had another treat I loved at the sandwich shop: hot chocolate. I could already imagine myself drinking one or two. It was certainly the season for it.
When I stepped inside, Giacomo greeted me. "Kimberly, you are here again. The fourth time this week."
I unwound my scarf, grinning at him. "What can I say, Giacomo? Your food keeps me alive. I've been daydreaming about my sandwich for the past two hours."
"Then sit down, and I'll bring it to you."
"Thanks," I said, heading toward my usual table.
Giacomo didn't like tending to customers and taking orders, but he made a point to bring my sandwich to me personally almost every time.
Realizing I had forgotten to order my hot chocolate, I waved my hand, catching Giacomo's eye. He looked up from the counter where he was slicing something, probably my grilled chicken breast.
I mouthed, "Hot chocolate."
He nodded immediately.
He and I were the perfect team. If he didn't own this place, I’d talk him into coming across the street and working for us. He'd be a great addition to our staff. I asked him once, and he said, "Signorina Kimberly, if you want me to still put as much love in your club sandwiches—”
"I do."
"Then you will not ask that of me again."
After that, I never brought it up.
My hot chocolate arrived a few seconds later. "Enjoy. I put in some extra cinnamon."
"Thanks, Giacomo."
He was in his sixties or possibly seventies.
He'd told me he'd moved to the United States forty years ago, though you wouldn't know it by his accent. It sounded like he’d landed from Italy yesterday.
I loved it because it reminded me of my time in Europe.
I'd traveled to Italy a couple of times and enjoyed it each time.
I took a sip of hot chocolate, sighing. This was the ultimate sweet treat. It went straight to my soul.
I closed my eyes, savoring it until I was startled by someone clearing their throat—loudly. I opened my eyes. Drake was standing in front of me.
Damn. How is this guy even hotter all bundled up with a coat and a scarf on?
His hand was on the armrest of the chair opposite me. "Is this seat taken?"
"I'm surprised you're asking and don't just sit in it."
He cocked a brow. "I don't think that was a yes. Is this free?"
"By all means," I said.
He took off his coat and the scarf, hanging them on the specially designed hooks on the wall before sitting down.
"What did you do, follow me?” I asked derisively.
“Ms. Maxwell, I was under the impression that you wanted to start with a clean slate. Was I wrong?"
I sipped from my hot chocolate. "I'm still debating."
"Either way is fine by me. I just need to know." He radiated confidence, which was annoying but also attractive.
Very silly, Kimberly. Annoying is annoying, and attractive is attractive. Two very different things.
Hmm, maybe I could settle with annoyingly attractive.
"We do need to work together," I said, "so I'm going to make an effort as long as you don't butt into my problems again."
"I have a simple solution for that," he replied, putting his forearms on the table. Nope. Don't ogle him, Kimberly. “Don't bring your private matters into the hotel again, and everything will be just fine.”
"If this is you trying to get into my good graces, it's not working, Drake."
"I wasn't. I was under the impression that you were trying to get into mine."
"What gave you that idea?" I asked as Giacomo brought over my sandwich, putting it in front of me before taking a step back. He looked at Drake and then back at me.
"Signorina Kimberly, is this man troubling you? Do you want me to remove him from here?"
Drake's eyes bulged. I was fighting my laughter very, very hard.
Pressing my lips together, I cleared my throat, but I still sounded on the verge of laughing as I told him, "No, Giacomo.
Thank you for the offer, though. It might not look like it, but he and I work together.
He's new at the hotel, and he’s had a bit of trouble… adjusting."
"I see," Giacomo replied, looking at Drake again. "I'll keep an eye on you."
"I’d like what she's having," Drake said.
I almost lost it when Giacomo smiled sweetly and said, "I don't take orders," right before leaving.
"He brought you a sandwich." Drake blinked. He looked thoroughly confused, as if no one in his entire life had treated him like that.
"Yes, he makes an exception for me. He likes me."
"First Thomas at the bar, and now this Giacomo. What do you do? Is this a dating spot too?"
"No, I usually come here with my sister. Something about you must have sent him the wrong message. I can't imagine what," I said sarcastically.
Giacomo’s daughter, Victoria, approached us.
"Dad said you want to order something." She was looking straight at Drake, having a completely different reaction to him than her dad had. She was practically melting at his feet. I didn’t blame her. If he didn’t blindside you with his “sunny” personality, you’d definitely fall for his good looks and might even think he could be charming.
"I'll have whatever Kimberly is having."
"Okay. And to drink?"
"Coffee, please."
"Right away, sir." She flashed him a beautiful smile before leaving.
Drake glanced back at me. "At least she likes me.”
"Just give her a couple of minutes," I said with a wink. "She's just started her shift. You haven't had time to scare her away yet."
"You might find it hard to believe, Kimberly, but most people I meet like me."
"You're right. I don't believe it."
"Travis does."
"Travis likes everyone. Doesn't make you special." I took another sip of my hot chocolate and a few bites of my delicious sandwich.
Drake’s order arrived a minute later—they were fast here.
"You didn't answer my email," he said.
I sighed. "No, I was putting it off on purpose. Then I forgot about it, but I'll get to it."
"On purpose?" he asked, setting his sandwich down.
"Yes, there was no 'please' or 'thank you' in your email, so I let you sweat a bit."
He jerked his head back. "Is that how you conduct business?"
"No, but I'm usually not at odds with someone the way I am with you."
He straightened up, leaning slightly over the table. "I see. So I'm special."
"Yes. You have a special talent for getting a rise out of me."
What am I doing? We were working together. I couldn't antagonize him. I was still reeling from last night, but that had to stop.
Clearing my throat, I said, "Okay, here's the deal. You agreed this morning to a clean slate. I'm going to try my best."
"Finally, you talk some sense."
"And you’re going to try very hard not to rile me. These are my terms."
He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. For a split second, I couldn't breathe. I was 99 percent sure he was looking at my mouth. No, scratch that. I was 100 percent sure. I didn't know if he did that out of instinct or because I had something smeared on my face.
"Fine, we have a deal," he said.
"Good."
"But on one condition."
"Here we go," I said.
"You don't attempt to guess anything about me at all."
I winced. I'd realized last night that I'd struck a chord when I ran my mouth, but I'd been too emotional to stop.
"I’m sorry. I was out of line. Why did you move to Chicago?" I asked him carefully.
His eyes turned cold. "It's a private matter."
"Fair enough."
My phone beeped, startling me. It was on the table, as usual; sometimes I ate and scrolled through social media when I was by myself.
"I can't believe it. Well, obviously you’re not as impressive as you think." I grinned, looking up at Drake and turning my phone so he could see.
Patrick: Hey, Kimberly. I felt last night went well, although the ending was surprising. I’m sorry that I overreacted. It's your right to date whoever you want. We didn't speak about exclusivity yet. When are you available again for dinner?
Drake shook his head. "The guy is confident, but it's disturbing that he can't read the room at all.”
"I'm going to think of a way to let him down gently later."
"Gently? The guy needs you to hammer the point home.”
"That's not how I operate."
"Hmm. Only with me. Interesting."
I smirked. "Don't let that go to your head. I'm going to buy a second hot chocolate. Do you want something else?"
"No, thanks. Why don't you just order it from the table?"
"They don’t usually come to the tables. They make exceptions, but now it’s very busy."
He turned around, whistling appreciatively at the crowd that had filled in around us.
I walked to the counter, and Victoria came up to me. "You need anything else, miss? Dad was going to send me out to see if you were okay."
"I'll have another hot chocolate with chocolate sprinkles, please. And no worries. You’ve gotten extremely busy, so I don’t mind coming to the counter."
"One moment."
"I'll wait for it here."
"Thank you," Victoria said again with pleading eyes.
She worked quickly, making efficient use of the kitchen equipment. She handed me the drink less than two minutes later.
When I went back to the table, I noticed that Drake was talking on the phone.
His demeanor was different from before—his shoulders were a bit hunched, his forehead full of creases.
I was far enough away that I couldn't hear what he was saying, but the timbre of his voice was softer.
Wow! He has a human side. I could hear the tenderness in his words.
He cared about the person he was talking to.
With a flash, I realized he was probably in a relationship, and that's why he moved to Chicago. I felt a pang of disappointment.
Damn it, Kimberly, what was that for? Girl, get a grip.
I hoped it worked out for him. My cousin Sam moved to Chicago a while ago, hoping to make a long-distance relationship work, and then it all fell apart.
It was for the best, though, because he'd reconnected with his high school girlfriend, who was the most amazing woman and exactly who he needed.
As a plus, she made custom jewelry that was to die for.
I'd bought a ton of things from her, and I didn't plan to stop.
At first, I did it because I wanted her to succeed in her business, but now, she was so overbooked that I had to be careful not to order too much so she could take care of her other customers as well.
I stayed back until Drake pocketed his phone. I didn't want him to think I was eavesdropping.
"So, you often drink hot chocolate?" he asked when I came to the table.
"Yeah, and it's a two hot chocolate kind of day. I asked for this one to be topped with chocolate sprinkles. I need the extra sustenance."
"Why? Anyone giving you a headache?" His eyes were playful.
"A certain new hire is trying very hard to be a nuisance."
"Maybe he thinks the same about you."
"Oh, good. That was exactly the impression I was trying to make.” I wasn't even being sarcastic.
He laughed, shaking his head. “It was good talking to you, Kimberly. I've got a million things to catch up on. Invite me to your calendar, will you?"
I smiled, deciding that he truly deserved the teasing. "I still don't hear a 'please' or a 'thank you.'"
He threw his head back, laughing.
"You're very demanding," I stated.
He straightened up, his gaze fixated on me. His eyes truly were impossibly green. It almost appeared as if he had contacts.
"I’m demanding and exacting in everything I do. It's how I operate. I don't expect anything less than perfection."
A shiver went down my spine. My brain and my body were clearly functioning on different wavelengths today. There was absolutely nothing sexy about what he'd said, but you wouldn't know it by my body's response.
"I’ll catch up with you later, Drake. I want to finish my hot chocolate in peace now. After a certain someone gave me grief over lunch, I have a feeling I'll need this sustenance to deal with more of the same in the afternoon."
His eyes flashed, but he was fighting a smile. "Yes, you will."