19. CALLUM
19
CALLUM
There’s something about being in the hotel that rejuvenates me—a replenishing of my energy, and unfortunately, my pride.
When visiting one of our locations, I’m always grounded and left with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. That everything I’ve done, how I’ve put my head down and focused, things I’ve sacrificed is enough.
This is what I’m good at.
It’s why I visit randomly, not even for a work-specific task.
Our Chicago hotel, unbiasedly, is my favorite to visit—and that says something, seeing as we have hotels in London, Paris, Edinburgh, Barcelona, Rome, and Lisbon, just to name a few.
We enclosed portions of the rooftop pool and bar, adding heaters to enable usage into the fall and winter months.
Warm for November, I left the office early to stop by the hotel for a drink and to mingle with customers.
The elevator dings. Stepping off, I feel more relaxed than I did when I arrived. Walking through the lobby, I’m about to pass the concierge desk when I spot dark hair and tattooed hands speaking animatedly.
What is Chloe doing here?
“Liam said he booked a room for me for a week,” she tells the guest relations employee behind the desk. “Would have been twenty minutes ago.”
“Let me reload the system. We don’t have a reservation under Henry, but it could still be processing. One moment, ma’am.”
Chloe gives them a soft, tight smile. Tugging on Tucker’s leash, she pulls him back to where their bags are on the floor.
She takes a deep breath, digging into her purse.
My phone buzzes in my hands. Liam’s name and picture pop up on the screen.
“I’m assuming you are calling me about Chloe,” I greet him with.
“Yeah. Is she there? Wait, are you there?”
“Stopped by for a drink with Flynn.”
“Perfect timing, Chloe should be in the lobby.”
“I have eyes on her right now.” One hand on her waist, tight black jeans that show off her muscular legs and butt, and an oversize shirt bunched under her grasp. The other playing with the strands of hair in a pony.
“She needs a place to crash for at least the night. I booked her into a suite. Can you make sure she gets situated?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you, Cal!” Emerson’s voice echoes in the background.
“Call me if there is any trouble. Thanks, Cal.”
Liam hangs up. I pocket my phone and head to the woman that I can’t shake. She’s taken up residence in my thoughts, whole hours of the day that drift to her.
“Henry.”
“Not now, Pretty Boy.” She lets out a huff. Brow furrowing with frustration. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”
Is she ever?
I ignore her, kneeling in front of Tucker. “Hey, Tuck.” I pet the golden fur on his head.
Chloe spins to face me. So, this is what it would be like to kneel in front of her. Can’t say I don’t mind the view; would prefer if we were both naked. Maybe in one of the rooms upstairs.
Her head dips, casting a glare at me. I tip mine upward to meet her gray eyes, giving her a wink and two-dimple smile that I’ve caught her blushing at before .
Grant, the hospitality intern working with us this semester, breaks our moment . “I found the reservation.” He pauses, a frown forming on his mouth. Grant flicks a nervous look to me before returning his attention to Chloe. “Unfortunately, the room is only available for tonight. I’ll need to speak with Mr. Hayes,”—I stifle a laugh. Liam would murder the guy for referring to him as Mr. Hayes. It is too formal for him, even me. The staff call me Callum or Cal—“about updating the reservation or moving you to a different room.”
“Is there a different room available?” Chloe asks.
“Unfortunately, no. We are completely booked tonight.”
It’s at this moment that I wish the hotel wasn’t doing as well as it is. Maybe. There is a part of me that’s beaming, the finance-money part of me, that sees the green on the spreadsheets.
But there is a part of me aching because we—I—can’t help Chloe.
In the few months that I’ve known her, she’s never asked for help. I’ve come to a quick conclusion that she doesn’t want to.
She’s prideful of her independence, fiercely protective of others, but doesn’t accept the reverse. I think there’s some underlying reason why. Does she not know how to ask? Is she afraid to appear weak?
“I’ll take whatever is open.”
“I can call Mr. Hayes.”
Chloe taps on her phone. “No. It’s eleven in London. He’s probably asleep.”
He’s not.
“Are you sure?” Grant asks hesitantly.
“Yeah—”
“Cancel the reservation, she’s staying with me,” I say at the same time and without thinking. Probably should have thought about it, we have an extra bedroom at our place. Liam and Emerson should have thought of it honestly.
Grant’s eyes swivel between us. Hands frozen over the keyboard .
Chloe turns to face me.
“I am not staying with you.”
“You are. It wasn’t a question.” Backing up, I grab a couple of her bags. “Grant, you can delete her reservation. I’ll send a note to Liam about Miss Henry’s change of plans.”
“Miss Henry?” Chloe’s jaw hangs open. “ Seriously Sullivan?”
“Come on. You are crashing with me.”
“I am not!”
“This isn’t up for discussion.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you letting me stay with you?”
“Because we are friends.”
“We aren’t friends.” Her eyes dip to the left and I know she’s lying.
“Sure, Henry. If you want to play that game, we can. You’ll lose, though,” I warn.
“Liam said I can stay here.”
“And I said you can stay with me.”
She huffs. Stomping her foot. Turning my back to her, I smirk, heading toward the employee exit-entrance to go to my car.
Behind me, I can hear her stomping after me.
“Sullivan.”
I keep walking. Keep smirking, loving the sound of my name hot on her tongue, the rasp in her voice curls over each syllable.
“Sullivan.” She huffs.
“What?” I look over my shoulder. “My car is this way. We’ll put Tucker in the car and then I’ll come back and get the rest of your stuff.”
She whines, “If you think this means I’ll finally give you that kiss, you are mistaken.”
“Keep telling yourself that. While your little tantrum is cute, it’s not going to change my mind. You are going to stay with me and that’s that. ”
The hand not holding Tucker’s leash, balls but her cheeks and tip of her ears are tinged pink. She knows she’s lost.
“ Fine, ” she curses between gritted teeth.
***
It takes two trips and one game of Tetris to get her bags into the back of my car.
Chloe’s quiet in the passenger seat, back flat against it and staring at the window.
I reach over, hesitantly hovering my hand over her thigh. Pulling it back across the dashboard, I decide not to.
Without looking at me, she pulls my hand back over, putting it on her denim clad thigh, right above her knee. She rests her hand on mine, I snake my thumb over top to rub light circles on her soft skin.
I keep my attention on the road but every so often let it roam over to her.
The drive to my place from the hotel isn’t far, honestly there’s no need to drive, I should walk. I enjoy driving though, always have.
Chloe’s silhouette against the golden hour settling in is burning into my mind. Her eyelids fall shut as she takes a slow breath.
Reaching for the dial to turn up the music, she speaks softly. “No.”
I drop my hand back to the wheel.
Taking the long way home, slowing down at yellow lights, I give her the space I’m inferring she needs. A quiet drive to process whatever happened, whatever roller-coaster her emotions are taking her on.
My right hand never leaves her thigh, secured by hers.