Chapter 20
The smell of flowers is a reminder
of how sweet the moment can be.
Logan’s mindfulness calendar
Henry
I stared at the blinking cursor on my laptop.
I couldn’t focus on my work. If I had been distracted in the past, it had usually been because I was worried about the hotel.
But this time, I had a new distraction. A woman.
Kate, to be precise. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
We hadn’t run into each other since I’d reluctantly left her in her room last week to go to yet another meeting with my dad and his lawyers.
Throughout the meeting, I couldn’t help but think about Kate, picturing her lying in the bathtub, immersed in warm water that lapped at her naked body.
I would much rather have stayed with her than listen to my dad talk, for the hundredth time, about wanting to file a defamation lawsuit.
His insistence that he was innocent was draining, and it was pushing me closer and closer to the breaking point.
Kate, on the other hand, had a strangely calming effect on me.
Not only was she the most intriguing woman I’d met in a long time, but she was also by far the most attractive.
Ethan, with his preference for tall, slender supermodels who looked like they’d stepped right out of a vintage Victoria’s Secret catalogue, would probably have disagreed, but I liked Kate just the way she was.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about her that captivated me—I barely knew her, after all.
But something about her grabbed my attention, despite this being the worst possible time for such a distraction.
I needed to focus on the hotel and the Pearl Gala, but that didn’t stop my mind from lingering on memories of our embrace, which had felt far too intimate and meaningful.
I wondered constantly how Kate was doing, what she was doing, how her first day of work had been.
Was she still cleaning somewhere in the hotel?
Or had she finished work for the day and was now back in her room?
My offer to let her stay at The Darlington indefinitely had surprised her.
To be honest, it had surprised me too, although I’d already briefly considered it.
Not least because it would have been hypocritical to set her out on the street while raising money for the homeless.
What had confused me, though, was how urgently I found myself wishing Kate would accept my offer.
“Henry?”
Rakesh’s voice was insistent, as if he’d been trying to get my attention for a while. I looked up at the hotel manager, who was standing at my desk, studying me with interest. How long had he been there?
“Yes?”
“I need your signature.” He pointed at a document he’d placed on the desk in front of me. The newly negotiated contracts for one of the hotel’s suppliers.
I grabbed a pen. “I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”
“I noticed. Are you worried about the gala?”
“Yes,” I said, grateful for the excuse. It would have been pretty unprofessional to tell him that I couldn’t stop thinking about Kate.
“It’ll be OK,” Rakesh said. “The last Pearl Gala was great, and this isn’t our first rodeo. I’ve set aside two days in this week’s schedule just for the gala. Vivian and I will put together the guest list.”
I frowned. “You and Vivian?”
“Yes.”
“Who authorised that?”
“Vivian.”
Of course.
I gave him the signed contracts. “The two of us will put together the guest list. Without Vivian’s input.”
“Are you sure you have time?” The concern in his voice alarmed me. Things must have been bad if our hotel manager was so openly worried about me.
I ran a hand over my face, as if I could wipe away the tension, stress, and overtime that had written themselves across my features.
“No, but I’ll make time.” Vivian would put together a guest list that worked in my dad’s favour, but I wanted one that served the hotel, the gala, and most importantly, a good cause.
I wouldn’t allow the Pearl Gala to become the Richard Darlington show.
“OK, so I’ll call the meeting off with Vivian and schedule time for the two of us.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Do you need anything else from me?”
“No, you can go home. I’ll call it a day soon too.”
Rakesh’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his eyes darted to the clock hanging on the wall. It was just before 7 p.m., and usually I stayed at the office until at least 9 p.m., sometimes longer. “Already?”
I shut my laptop. “Yes. I have plans.”
Rakesh tapped away on his tablet, which he guarded like a treasure and took with him everywhere in the hotel. I’d even caught him in the bathroom with it once. “There’s nothing in your calendar. Have I forgotten something?”
“No, it’s private,” I answered curtly. The entire staff was already speculating about me and Kate, especially since it had become public knowledge that she was working and sleeping at The Darlington.
I pretended not to get wind of it, but I was neither deaf nor blind.
I heard the muttering and caught the inquisitive looks.
But no one had brought it up with me besides my mum.
Probably because it was more fun to talk about the boss than with him.
I stood and took my suit jacket from the back of the chair. “Have a nice evening.”
Rakesh had just left my office when my phone vibrated with a new message notification. I considered ignoring it, fearing there was some emergency that would require me to stay at the office, but I couldn’t resist checking.
Logan:
You’ll pay for this.
The next message was a photo of the facade of his restaurant. Someone had written the word “Rapist!” on the wall in red paint. The photo also featured Maxton, Logan’s business partner, awkwardly wielding a sponge that didn’t seem to have made an impression on the graffiti.
Me:
I can contribute a little.
Logan:
Are you serious? Did you just PayPal me five pounds?
Me:
Yes. Doesn’t that cover it?
Logan:
Very funny, loser.
Me:
Pay for your own shit. Or ask Dad.
Logan:
I’d rather lick the paint off myself.
Me:
I don’t think that’d be good for your health.
But seriously, do you need money?
Logan:
No, I was joking. The restaurant’s doing great.
Me:
I’m glad. Do you have a table free tonight?
Logan:
Dude. It’s 7 p.m. No.
Me:
Not even for your brother?
Logan:
Especially not for my brother. You never pay the bill.
Anyway, evenings are booked out for the next three weeks.
Me:
Congratulations.
Logan:
Thanks. You can come by for lunch sometime.
Me:
I’ll see. There’s a lot to do at the moment.
Logan:
Isn’t there always?
Me:
Yes, but the Pearl Gala is back on now.
Logan:
Didn’t Richard call it off?
Me:
Yes, but Vivian wants it to go ahead. And when she tells him to jump, Dad just asks how high. He really thinks she can save his bacon.
Logan:
And you don’t think she can?
Twice, I started typing a response, only to delete them both immediately.
I didn’t know what I thought. On the one hand, I only wanted what was best for the hotel, and the best outcome would be for the court to dismiss the prosecution’s charges next week and drop the case due to a lack of evidence.
On the other hand, I wanted justice. I found it hard to accept that my childhood hero was a sex offender, but I had no doubt that he was guilty.
Still, no matter what happened, The Darlington would have to live with the stigma for years to come.
There was no good outcome to this situation, only a bad and a very bad one.
Nothing would ever be the same again, for the hotel or my family.
But I wasn’t ready to accept that yet, so I avoided answering Logan’s question.
Me:
I have to go, sorry. We’ll talk some other time, OK?
Logan:
Sure. Do your important things, you important man.
Me:
I will, Dickface.
Logan:
Buttface!