Chapter 8
Penelope
“Hi. I’m Penelope Michaels. I had a text to drop by the front desk.”
The young man behind the counter lifted his head, smiling. “One second.” His fingers flew and as he was checking, I scanned the lobby. The conclusion of the event had been bittersweet. I’d had a great time, more so than I’d imagined.
I’d met some incredible people and had gained a significant number of followers. Nothing yet that would change my little world or my bank account, but every follower meant by business was building.
Plus, I had a feeling I’d developed several friendships that would last long after I’d flown back home.
The only regret? That I’d been too scared or too much of a good girl to push for spending more time with Mr. Hottie.
Yes, I’d wanted to, but I wasn’t a one-night stand kind of girl.
Plus, there’d been something overtly dangerous about the man.
That’s what had drawn me to him, the seductive way in which he presented his arrogance.
It was very much unlike me to find his haughty attitude attractive.
I’d asked a couple of people in hopes of finding out who he was, but no one seemed to know his identity.
I’d had the perfect chance to discover his name but had chosen to keep the mystery going. What an idiot I’d been.
“Ah, Ms. Michaels. Yes. I wanted to let you know that you had a winning bid on the charity auction. Congratulations.”
“I’m sorry. What?” I laughed as soon as he made the statement. “There is no way.”
“Evidently so. I have it right here.”
I’d bid five dollars on perhaps the most exquisite abstract painting I’d ever seen in my life.
The colors were so bold and so evocative in the depiction of a woman in bondage that I’d barely been able to take my eyes off it.
The painting was also massive, something that would take an entire wall to display adequately.
“But I bid five dollars. It was just so I felt good about giving some money to the children.” Now I was embarrassed.
“Sometimes these things work out.”
“I can’t take that on a plane.”
“Oh, that’s no problem. The Triton Group has already provided instructions to ship all the charity items to the winner’s required address. Should I make the arrangements at the address provided for your accommodations?”
I had to try to piece together what he was saying, I was in such shock. “That will be fine.” Holy shit. The painting had to be worth a significant amount of money. This was crazy.
“Alright. I’ll take care of it for you.”
Being unable to feel my feet had occurred more than once. While I started to turn away, I leaned over the counter once again. “Is there anyone in the hotel with the initials C.T. within the events department?”
He seemed perplexed. “Actually, there are a couple people. Charlotte Thomas and Camden Thornberg. Both are in accounting. Is there something wrong?”
“Not at all. Just curious.” Well, that wasn’t helpful.
At least I was heading to the bar to enjoy some time spent with Jasmine and Chantal. Maybe by the end of the evening the daze would wear off.
I found them easily, already indulging in drinks.
“There you are,” Chantal said. “We thought you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry. I had to stop by the front desk. Did you see the charity event going on last night?” I eased onto a chair, immediately searching the faces of the people inside. Maybe I was hoping to catch sight of the mystery man. Mr. Hottie on steroids.
“The big swanky event?” Jasmine commented, rolling her eyes.
“That one. I bid on a gorgeous painting and won.”
Chantal whistled. “Wow. That’s amazing. How much did you bid?”
“Five dollars. It’s crazy. I can’t imagine those people were all cheapskates.” I still couldn’t believe it. Maybe my luck was changing.
“Ah, no,” Jasmine teased. “The people floating around the hotel are some of the richest in the world. Maybe you made an impression on the owner of the painting.”
I sucked in my breath, my thoughts drifting to the handsome stranger all over again. What were the odds? “Perhaps.”
“Didn’t you mention you also had some awesome goodies sent to your room?”
Chantal’s question made me laugh. “Tons of them. I’ll have a hard time packing what’s left.”
“Are you kidding me? Roses? Baskets of food? Who are you and where do I get a knight in shining armor?” Jasmine asked after pushing my arm.
I laughed and scanned the bar, still in hopes of seeing Mr. Hottie once again. “I’m pretty certain it was simply a gesture from someone from the hotel to try and appease me. Nothing more.”
“Still,” Chantal chortled. “You’re very lucky. However, I feel the same little thrill of excitement. I was asked to provide a first chapter of an idea I pitched to the publisher.”
“What? Amazing.” I flagged down the waiter.
A drink was definitely in order while taking another scan of the bar.
I’d also had the distinct feeling of being watched.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking that Mr. Hottie had me on his radar.
Sadly, if he didn’t make an appearance, nothing would happen since I was leaving in the morning.
“And I had an interview that’s going to be seen by several stations all across California.” Jasmine was very excited. I couldn’t blame her.
“Vodka martini,” I ordered. “Extra dry.”
“I think all three of us have something to celebrate. I consider the conference a success.” Chantal sighed. “I couldn’t believe the publisher seemed so interested. We even shared a dance last night.”
“You too?” Jasmine asked, laughing as she did.
“The guy in charge of the television crew said I had camera charisma. He dropped by with his crew to film a few minutes of the event last night and accidentally stepped onto the dance floor. You don’t know me very well, but I took that as a sign, forcing him to dance with me. ”
In thinking about my mystery man, I was now regretting more than ever I hadn’t spent more time with him. It was my fault, but I had promised myself there would be no men in my future, even for one sexy night.
A promise I had every intention of keeping.
The drink arrived a few seconds later and I held up the glass. “To a successful event and what the future might hold.”
“Perfect.” Chantal’s eyes lit up. “And to hot men sliding across our horizon.”
It felt good to laugh and share time with new friends. I’d have so much to talk about with my bestie back in Louisville. Where she’d promptly kick me in the ass for chickening out with Mr. Hottie. Even though she’d been the one to console me after Carrington had dumped me.
Actually, I’d done the dumping, but he’d been the asshole behind the reason why.
Maybe after weeks of suffering from the loss, even though I’d told myself that Carrington hadn’t been worth it, I was finally ready to move on.
Thanks to the mysterious stranger.
Who knew. Maybe one day I’d be able to thank him for giving me the push I needed.
Our waitress approached less than twenty minutes later with a sealed envelope in her hand. “I was told to deliver this to you.”
“To which one of us?” Jasmine asked.
With a smile, the girl shrugged. “I was just told to the table. Maybe the note inside will let you know.”
“Who sent it?” For whatever reason, I was immediately on edge. There was no reason. The note could be from anyone.
“My boss handed it to me when she knew I was your server. I honestly don’t know.”
Chantal sighed. “A mystery. Sounds delicious.”
“Or creepy,” Jasmine added. Suddenly, we were all looking at each other, clearly filled with apprehension.
The waitress walked away and the three of us stared at it. We finally laughed. “We’re being silly,” I suggested and grabbed the envelope. When I finally managed to get it open, pulling out the card, a tiny chill coursed through me.
“What does it say?” Jasmine asked.
“I’m watching you.” I lifted my gaze, looking from one to the other.
The room. The flowers. The aftershave.
The mystery man. He was certainly well versed in getting what he wanted, his demand I dance with him an indication. Was it possible… There were three of us at this table. Not one.
Chantal recoiled and we took a few seconds scanning the bar. “Any name? Initials?”
“No.” I placed the card in the center of the table. It had been written in heavy dark ink, the text appearing formidable. Not necessarily a threat, but something close. At least the note hadn’t been prepared using block letters from a printed publication.
Perhaps a warning? No, my mind was lost on a nasty troll who’d been driving me crazy lately. Nothing more. Yet I had my doubts a handsome rich guy would play games. I had to remind myself there were three of us sitting at the table.
“That’s a little weird.” Jasmine grabbed her drink.
“More than a little,” Chantal admitted, slightly breathless, glancing in my direction. “Maybe the handsome stranger you mentioned.”
“Or the publisher who’s so interested,” Jasmine told her.
“Or the media mogul,” I offered.
We sat quietly, still scanning the bar before Chantal chuckled. “Maybe we will never know.”
“Maybe not until the time is right.” The chill lingered, tickling my spine. Not a threat, but a promise for more.
“Exciting,” Jasmine offered.
Or damning, depending on how you looked at it.
The evening was enjoyable, but I’d paced myself, determined to get a good night’s sleep since the flight was early. After saying my goodbyes, I decided to take a few minutes outside before I slipped under the covers to indulge in deep, dark fantasies.
Plus, I constantly searched the bar, maybe in hopes of seeing the mystery man once again.
I’d spent little time outside and the grounds of the hotel were stunning. While the area around the pool was packed, few guests had ventured off on their own as I intended on doing.
The night was gorgeous, a light warm breeze carrying the scents of various flowers. With lights in dozens of trees, the festive atmosphere from the hotel carried throughout the landscaped area.