Chapter 23 Damien
Damien
“We’ve been fucked in the ass again.”
Diego tosses a brochure for another hotel on my desk, and I recognize it immediately. It’s Decker’s place, but I still ask the obvious question. “What the hell is this?”
He picks it up again and opens it, then sets it back down. “Check out the hotel room corners.”
“They have floor to ceiling windows, no seam. So what? A lot of strip hotels have that feature.”
“Look closer,” he says. I shake my head, giving him an impatient look.
“In floor jetted tubs?” I ask the obvious.
“Look at the brand, Graves,” he says, and just as the words leave his mouth, I see it.
“Fuck,” I let out.
“I thought we had Sauna Spring locked down,” Diego says. “We signed with the company to ensure that we are the only hotel in the city that can use their tubs in our suites. How the fuck do you think he got away with that?” he asks.
“Fucking beats me, but you better start making phone calls right fucking now,” I tell him.
“Oh, I was planning on it. I just wanted to show you first. I swear, Decker is getting slimier and slimier.”
“I’m done with it,” I tell him. “I don’t know where he gets off, but it’s not going to happen again, I can tell you that much.”
“That’s not the only thing though, boss,” Diego adds, and I glower up at him.
“What else?”
“Blue Bay,” he answers, referring to a rum brand with the same gig. We order it straight from Costa Rica, and I was told it would only be sold at our hotel bar. That and the Opal Room.
“So he’s not only fucking with our guests and our designs, he’s fucking with our sales reps too,” I growl, shoving up from my desk and walking over to the window.
“I don’t know how he’s doing it, D,” Diego says. “But as rookie as Decker is in the hotel business, he’s a pretty impressive snake.”
“He’s not going to get away with it anymore,” I state. “We are taking him down.”
“I’m with you, brother. What’s the plan of action?” he asks.
“We go for the throat. And if that doesn’t work, we aim lower.”
After Diego leaves to go make some phone calls, I walk out of my office as well.
I need to cool off. The last time I was this angry, I ripped all the books from my shelves and just about broke one of the windows after sending my chair flying.
It was an expensive tantrum that didn’t solve any of my problems, but did make me look like an idiot. A walk is a much better idea.
I make it to the elevator and press the button just as it opens. Inside, I find Annelise standing with my coffee in hand.
“Oh,” she lets out in surprise. “Am I late?”
“No,” I say flatly. Then I step inside and close the door again. Annelise doesn’t seem to know what to make of it, and after a moment of staring at me stunned, she holds my coffee out to me. I take it from her and take a sip, scowling as the elevator heads down to her floor.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks carefully.
“No,” I say again.
“Alrighty then,” she says, biting her lips and rolling back on her heels. “Are you going to say anything else?”
I turn to look at her. She’s wearing a pink dress. It looks good on her, bringing out the natural pink in her cheeks and her lips, and I feel the sudden need to adjust myself in my pants. Of course I don’t. “You’re working tonight,” I tell her.
“Tonight?” she says with a questioning tone.
“Is that a problem?” I ask.
Annelise takes in a calculated breath, and I realize she isn’t just going to answer with yes. “It’s kind of hard for me to work doubles on short notice,” she tells me.
I hold my coffee cup about an inch from my lips, pausing before the sip. “Do you have anything better to do in the evenings?”
“Be at home?” she says incredulously, as if the answer is obvious.
“It was part of the job description. We went over it in the interview,” I remind her.
“And in my resume I mentioned that I can’t always–”
“You knew there were night shifts involved. Can you work tonight, or do I have to find someone else?” I ask, and I can tell it bothers her. Annelise’s lips always tighten when I say something that upsets her. Otherwise, she has an impeccable poker face outside of that.
“I can work,” she says.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Because you don’t sound sure.”
“I said I can do it,” she snaps. “I will figure it out.” The door opens on her floor, and she looks at me. “Anything else?”
“Yes. One more thing,” I tell her, and she blinks, her expression harder than usual.
“Yes?”
“I like that dress. You should wear pink more often.”
The look she gives me after that could kill.
That night, Annelise wears a silver sequined gown with a slit that goes all the way up to her thigh. It’s backless and reveals her bare skin from the nape of her neck to just above her ass.
“No bra tonight?” I ask her as we make our way to the bar in the main room. Two drinks are set in front of us, and she smiles, though I know she isn’t feeling it.
“I figured I’d make things easier on you. You know since the last time we were together, you ripped apart several grand worth of clothes in a territorial tantrum.”
It’s a comment that would normally earn her a punishment, but tonight I feel like I have it coming. She’s clearly upset with me, though I’m not really sure why. It’s not like she didn’t enjoy herself.
“You have to smile,” I remind her as we watch the dancers, sipping on our drinks.
“Yes, sir,” she says and plasters a small smirk on her lips. Something about knowing it’s not real makes the mood of this night that much worse.
“Is there a reason you’re upset with me?” I ask. Not that I care. Despite being a man who takes what he wants when he wants it, I’m not going to force this woman to give me a stress relieving orgasm, even though I easily could.
“Who said I am upset with you?” she asks, and I just stare at her. Then she takes a sip of her drink. “I know this is all part of the job. And that’s fine. I actually enjoy coming here, but the last minute notice is a bit difficult for me.”
“May I ask why?”
Her eyes widen a little. “I know family isn’t important to you, Damien, but it’s everything to me.”
I open my mouth to say something when suddenly her face flushes completely. “What? What is it?”
“I…” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”
But it can’t be nothing. Not with the way her face just went white. And definitely not with the way she is suddenly clinging to me.
“I just thought I saw someone I knew, is all.”
I look around and then back at her. “Well, how about we go into the lounge then? I doubt you’ll see anyone you know there.”
Annelise nods, but the look on her face tells me she’s still not so sure.
Whatever is bothering her is slightly concerning, and I don’t like her being on edge.
I take her hand and place it in the crook of my elbow and lead her into the Velvet Lounge.
She’s sipping her drink quickly as we walk, and we head towards the back.
As fun as last time’s little exhibition display was, tonight’s mood calls for something more private.
We stop in front of the curtain, and I notice her eyes still darting around.
Whoever she saw, or thought she saw, really has her worried.
“How about another drink?” I ask her. After a hesitant moment, she nods.
I take her empty glass and cup her cheek in my hand.
“You head into the room here, and I’ll be right back. ”
“But that’s further than an arm’s reach,” she says. I can’t tell if she is being snarky or if she is actually concerned.
“I’m just going to that bar right there,” I say, pointing at the mini bar less than twenty feet away. “You get comfortable.”
After a moment, Annelise nods. I make my way to the bar with our empty glasses in hand. “Two more,” I tell the bartender. “But make them doubles.”
“Yes, sir,” she nods, and I let out a breath.
An hour ago I was ready to ravage her. But with the way she’s been acting today, I’m not so sure, though I’m hoping the booze will help.
For a moment, I question whether I am being too demanding with the night shifts.
The problem is, I don’t always know when I’m going to be in the mood for our outings. It’s kind of a spontaneous thing.
“Here you go, Mr. Graves,” the bartender says as she sets the drinks in front of me.
I nod in response and grab the glasses. Just as I am about to walk back towards the room, I stop.
Headed towards me with a redheaded girl in blue is none other than Dylan fucking Decker.
A scowl deepens on my brow as we make eye contact, and I stalk over to him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Good evening to you too, Graves,” he says, and this joker actually has the audacity to grin at me. “Nice club you got here.”
“How did you get in?” I ask.
Dylan looks around to see who is watching. And while everyone has the sense not to stare, I am sure they’re listening, but I don’t really care.
“This is more or less a public establishment, isn’t it?” he asks. “Anyone with enough money or the right connections is allowed to be here, am I wrong?”
“As the proprietor, I have the right to have anyone I want removed,” I remind him. “But I’m sure you know that, seeing as how you own a hotel now.”
“I do, and I’m well on my way to owning a club too. That’s why I thought I’d stop by. Check out the local competition.”
“Check it out or copy it?” I say, sucking my whiskey between my teeth.
“I’m sorry?” he asks with a nasty smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Who is it?” I snap. My voice is getting louder now, but I don’t really care.
“Who is what?” he asks, but I’m done. I’m done with the act and the lies and being made to look like a fool in my own business.
I grab him by the shirt, making a couple of people around us gasp, and yank his face towards mine. “Cut the crap, Decker. Who have you been sending in to spy and steal and fuck with me? Because nobody fucks with me.”
Still, he smiles. But he’s also got tiny beads of sweat starting to form on the upper rim of his temples, which tells me he’s not as cool as he is trying to play it off.
“I think you’re a bit paranoid, Graves. You keep it kind of hot in here. Maybe you should get some air?”
There is a beat of silence between us, but the tension is so thick in here you could cut it with a knife. “Funny you should mention that. I was about to say the same thing for you.”
“I’m all right. I think I’ll stay. I was about to enjoy myself.” Dylan keeps looking behind me, but I don’t care enough to look over my shoulder.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” I spit out. “You’re leaving. You’re done taking from me.”
I nod over to the security guards, who have their undivided attention on what’s been going on, but stay still, waiting for my signal. I give a discrete nod to signal them into action.
“I’ve only taken what’s worth it from you, Graves. But you, uh, you can keep the trash.”
His eyes dart down the hallway again before he flashes me one more smile. As my guys escort him out the door. He isn’t fighting them, which is almost more annoying. It’s like he doesn’t care if he is here or not. He’s only doing it to annoy me.
I don’t want to make a scene, look upset, or be off my game. So instead of raking my hands through my hair or wiping my hand down my face like I want to, I just clench my jaw and flex my hand. I take a sip of my whiskey before grabbing Annelise’s drink and walk down the hall.
When I see her, she is standing against the black velvet curtain. Her chest is rising and falling jaggedly, and her lips are parted enough that her chin is jilted, quivering. My eyes narrow momentarily in question, but before I can ask her what’s wrong, she darts into the ladies’ room.