Chapter 9 Gwen
GWEN
Harrison was on the phone before Dominic even finished explaining what was going on.
“We’re diverted because of weather,” he said to whoever he was calling, his voice sounding pained. “Stopping over in Philly for the night. Could you—”
He listened quietly and nodded, rubbing his temple.
“Great. Appreciate it, Drew.”
Ah, so apparently he’d called his brother, Andrew Ashford, to tap into their network of hotels and resorts throughout the country.
Dominic had told us that an unexpected thunderstorm had grounded everyone at LaGuardia, so we’d spend the night in Philadelphia, then make our way to Manhattan first thing tomorrow morning.
Harrison hung up, frowning.
“What?” I asked. “Is there a problem?”
“Other than the weather-induced monkey wrench in our down-to-the-minute plans? No, we’re totally fine,” he said.
I frowned right back at him. “Hey, give me some credit. I made sure our itinerary has some breathing room. If you’ll recall, you wanted to arrive mere hours before the show.”
“Right, because all of the extra time waiting is wasted,” he fired back at me. “And I hate wasting time.”
“Was it really wasted, though?” I asked.
“You’ve been glued to that laptop for nearly the entire flight.
You’re working. Zero wasted time. And trust me, I’ve dealt with way too many close calls to not pad in some space whenever it’s possible.
I’m not willing to take any chances, thank you very much. ”
I didn’t give him any room to argue back, so he sat in silence, stewing, which continued all the way to our arrival at The Ashford on the Main Line.
“This is stunning,” I marveled as we walked through the arched doorway and navigated the crowds in the lobby.
It was my first time in a Ashford resort, and I could see why everyone considered them the top of the line.
Luxury like this, with the six-foot-tall planters packed with flowers in every corner, the live pianist in the corner of the lobby, and the polished black marble floor, was totally foreign to me.
“Mr. Ashford, welcome,” the doorman beamed at us and gave an almost imperceptible bow. “We’re so happy to have you back!”
He responded with a curt nod as we walked through the doors. “Thank you, Jeremy.”
I was embarrassed by how abrupt Harrison seemed, so I attempted to make up for it. “The weather is terrible! I hope you’re keeping dry.”
We both glanced out the double doors at the sheets of rain and blackness, even though it was only four o’clock.
“Gonna be bad until late. Not the best weather for a night out on the town,” Jeremy said apologetically, like he was somehow to blame for the rain.
“We’ll be fine,” Harrison said over his shoulder.
I winced as he sliced his way through the crowd.
“Long day,” I said apologetically to Jeremy.
“Understood,” he nodded. “Don’t worry, Regina will take care of you. Enjoy your stay.”
Poor Jeremy was probably very used to dealing with big personalities and bad manners. I wondered if Harrison’s brother was a bosshole as well.
I joined Harrison at the VIP check-in counter, where a pretty, dark-haired woman was beaming at him despite his glower.
“Drew took care of your room assignment,” the woman explained, angling to direct her smile at me as well as at Harrison, though she looked a bit confused when her eyes dropped down to my hands. “We’re fully committed for the next few nights, but you know your brother can move mountains.”
“Yes, something like that,” Harrison said dismissively.
He held out his hand for the key, and I had to force myself not to karate-chop him for being so damn abrupt.
“Do you need assistance up to your room?” the woman asked.
“No, we’re fine,” Harrison replied. “Thank you.”
I tripped behind him like a puppy, weaving through the crowd of guests. “Is it always this busy?”
He shook his head. “We stay booked, but this is extreme. There must be some kind of special event going on. We’d better not be on a noisy floor.”
I hoped for everyone on the staff that was the case.
Harrison paused when we stepped on the elevator. “Now wait a second…”
“What?”
His jaw flexed, and he shook his head. He slammed the key card against the pad, and the elevator started off so gently that I wouldn’t have thought we were even moving if the number display hadn’t started climbing.
I peered at the floors as we shot up. “We’re on the top?”
“So it seems,” he said through gritted teeth.
The elevator came to a stop with the quietest beep, and when we got off, Harrison let out an angry sigh.
“This is not funny.”
“What?” I asked as I looked up and down the hallway. “What’s wrong?”
Harrison jabbed a finger toward the sign in front of the elevator.
“Honeymoon suite?” I asked. “They put us in the honeymoon suite?”
“Not ‘they.’ Drew did this. As a joke.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe it has a couple of bedrooms, since it’s a suite?”
“It doesn’t,” he fumed as he paced up and down the hall. “This is the last thing I need. Damnit, Drew.”
I had to wonder if the idea of sharing a room with me was so revolting that it would freak him out this badly. Was I a bad roomie in Aspen? Or maybe it was because his brother had made him the butt of a joke? Whatever the case, Harrison was in an even worse mood now.
All I wanted to do was go to my room and avoid him until it was time to watch Scarlet’s appearance on After Dark.
I glanced back at him, and he was already making a call.
“Yeah, hello again. There’s been a mistake with our room. Drew put us in the honeymoon suite as a joke, but we need separate rooms.”
I watched his face go even tighter as he listened, head down, brows drawn, and frown activated.
“That won’t do.”
My stomach twisted as I envisioned the volcanic eruption that was to come.
I walked over and stood right in front of him so he had to look at me.
“It’s fine, I can sleep on the couch,” I said.
He shook his head and glowered at me, then started pacing again.
“No, that’s unacceptable,” he barked.
He disconnected the call and paced.
“What’s up?” I asked. I assumed he had an insider trick up his sleeve, like contacting the hotel IT guy to hack into the system and cancel some poor sap’s reservation.
“They’re overcommitted because of some sort of pharma sales kickoff. Zero rooms, so we’re stuck. I’m not happy about it, but it’s one night. We can agree to stay out of each other’s way.”
I followed behind him, forcing myself not to ask if he still snored. This wasn’t the time to lay on the sass. He was too pissy.
I, on the other hand, was in awe of our accommodations. I had a mental image of what a honeymoon suite might look like—granted, they usually included an ocean view and palm trees in the distance—but this was another level of luxe.
It was basically a high-end apartment with numerous sitting areas, a dining room table that could seat ten, and a marble bathroom with a soaking tub to die for.
And then there was the bedroom.
“Um, Harrison?” I called out to him from the doorway. “You need to see this.”
I could tell from the way he stormed over that he was still a grumpy grumpus being grumpy.
“What now?”
I stepped aside so he could take it in.
“What the…damn it, Drew!”
I was happy I was behind him because I couldn’t stop giggling.
The bedroom had his and her terrycloth robes on the bed, positioned to look like they were holding hands.
There was a gift basket on the bed in between the robes with a bottle of champagne and truffles along with various lotions and potions that looked suggestive even from a distance.
“Is this standard treatment? Because I see…” I paused to squint at one of the labels, “Love Balm?”
“No, this is Drew being an asshole,” Harrison fumed. “The most we usually do is a floral arrangement and champagne. He’s just yanking my chain.”
“Well, it’s sort of funny.”
“Like hell it is.”
A few hours later, after a fabulous room service dinner and a view of the city that made me fall in love with Philly, it sure didn’t feel like we were stuck. Stuck with each other, yes, but the setting was incredible.
After Dark didn’t come on until midnight. I’d suffered through my heels and skirt for too long and opted to change into my pajamas for our little watch party. I’d wisely opted to pack lightweight lounge pants and a tank instead of anything skimpy.
Harrison strode into the common area where the biggest TV was located looking like he was ready for a workout in slim, light-gray hybrid pants and a tight black wicking T-shirt.
“Gonna get a quick pump in before the show?” I asked playfully.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Funny. No, I packed this because I assumed I’d have time to work out tomorrow, but clearly that’s out of the question now. Normally, I only wear my boxers to bed.”
I cleared my throat involuntarily at the thought of my bosshole in his underwear.
I mean, I’d already seen the man naked multiple times.
I’d already touched his naked body and knew how it felt under my hands, how it tasted on my tongue.
There was no unringing that bell. But the rules were completely different now. There were boundaries to consider.
Even if I could see the outline of his magnificent dick through the thin fabric of his leggings. And I knew exactly the sort of magic the thing was capable of.
“What?”
I jumped when I realized he’d caught me staring at his junk.
“Just, uh, strategizing,” I managed. “The show is starting in five minutes.”
We both dropped down onto our respective couches a safe distance apart. There was a TV in the bedroom across from the most sumptuous bed ever, but it was clear neither one of us were willing to hop into bed until we absolutely had to.
We were silent through the various guests before Scarlet’s moment. I could always tell how the celebrity handlers primed Ryan for each interview. He really was a master at getting guests to shine as they told their impromptu-but-actually-scripted stories.