Chapter 6
Penelope
The morning had been rough. There had been no denying I was hungover.
I’d awakened to a pounding head and a sense that I’d done something horribly wrong. From the wild and crazy dreams that had left me aching and tingling, I’d half expected to wake up and find an unknown man nestling under the covers next to me.
Thank God that hadn’t been the case.
Yes, the fantasies had been incredible, leaving me aching all over. Only when the Tylenol had kicked in had it sunk in that I was missing a chunk of time.
Somewhere between the bar and climbing into bed, I’d faded into what I called the no-fly zone. I almost never allowed myself to let go unless in the privacy and safety of my own home.
While remaining completely behind locked doors.
The second thought when I’d awakened had been that I’d crashed in someone else’s room. After oozing out of bed, the first thing I’d done had been to check my suitcase, saying a word of thanks to whoever had been looking out for me from above.
Thankfully, Anita hadn’t said a word and no one had looked at me funny. Obviously, any possible antics from the night before hadn’t been too out of character. Now I was thankful I didn’t know anyone else other than by reputation.
While the morning had dragged on, it had been good to see that a publisher had joined the conference at the last minute, offering pitches for a possible publishing contract to authors.
I stole a few minutes away from the others, moving around the various rooms to ensure my requests had been honored.
When I noticed several employees rolling in with carts full of food, I tried to remember whether a full lunch was being provided.
“Did you do this?”
I jumped, a slight squeal escaping. “You scared me to death, Anita.”
She laughed. “Sorry. You had something to do with all the food. Right? Breakfast. Now lunch? They’re offering soft drinks instead of just water and get this, a full free bar starting at four.”
“What?” I tried to remember what I’d demanded of Jordan. Soft drinks maybe. Snacks. You bet. Maybe he’d realized I had no intention of letting go of the fact he’d tried to fuck with the contract, and he was playing Mr. Nice Guy. Only I knew what he was capable of.
Including at least in small part helping to get me fired. Funny how the tables had turned and he’d been kicked out of the company on his ass. He’d thought he stood a chance of becoming an executive.
Ah, too bad.
At least now I could gloat.
“Well, I did tell Jordan White he needed to ensure our happiness or else.” Maybe I hadn’t lost my touch. A slight ache formed in my gut. I really had loved my job.
Stop it. Just stop it.
She squeezed my arm. “You are a godsend. People are raving about the conference already. Gotta run.”
As she raced off, I had to admit I was slightly dumbfounded, but only long enough until another part of my brain kicked in and I wondered what Jordan had up his sleeve. I wouldn’t put anything past him.
Just before I headed toward my table, I was approached by an author I’d seen in passing. “You’re Penelope Michaels. Right?”
“That’s me. Please tell me I didn’t do something crazy last night.”
Her laugh was far too genuine. “Not that I know of, but I was embroiled in a pool battle at the swim-up bar.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.”
“A little aggressive for me. I just wanted to say thank you for your lovely review of my book and the incredible artwork you created. I’m Chantal Beauman.”
“Oh, my God. The Big Apple series.”
“That’s me.”
“I love mafia syndicates. They are my jam. It’s great to finally meet you.”
Chantal was beaming. “Maybe we could have a drink later and dish about the industry. I’d love to talk to you about your designs.”
“That would be great.” Really? My graphic design work was taking off more than what I’d originally hoped to do. Why limit myself?
“Chantal. There you are. I have a bunch of people at my table asking about the latest audio book.” The blonde was dressed to the nines, her gothic look complete with chunky silver jewelry.
“I’ll be right there. Jasmine. Have you met Penelope Michaels? This is the fab girl influencer I told you about. She did the review on the entire Big Apple series.”
“Happy to meet you. Chantal shared the review.”
“Wait,” I said. “Jasmine Cummings?” In my opinion, she was one of the best narrators in the business.
She grinned as she leaned forward. “Yes, darling. My alternate and very wicked personality. I adore your TikTok videos. They are to die for.”
“Maybe I hire you to do a few fun voiceovers,” I told her.
“I’m certain we can work something out.”
“Why don’t you grab a drink with us. How about tomorrow after everything concludes?” Chantal was eager and if for no other reason than making these two connections, the trip had been well worth it.
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready for my pitch. Did you see the publisher from the Graham Sussex Venture Group? All I can say is he should be on one of my book covers. Wow.”
As soon as she made the statement, my thoughts didn’t just drift into a vision from the night before. It slammed against a brick wall.
Just like…
Wait. Had I tried to enter the wrong room?
The images of a half-naked man floating through my mind were so hot that I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Oh. My. God. While I couldn’t see the man’s face clearly in my mind, I could still taste his lips.
Scotch.
The same drink I’d sent to Mr. Hottie. What were the chances I’d walked into the wrong room?
“That sounds like fun. I also have an on-camera interview,” Jasmine said, breaking my horrifically ugly train of thought. “I don’t know the media source, but I don’t care at this point. All media coverage is worth it. I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow if not earlier. Are you coming to the ball?”
“I’ll be there.” Chantal was excited about the event.
I wasn’t entirely certain I could stomach going. Maybe I’d wander over to the charity event. In truth, I could remember the kiss and it had been amazing.
“Talk with you ladies later.” I headed back to my table, still trying to figure out if I was losing my mind or had merely had a lovely, sinful dream.
I slipped into showman mode, shocked that there were so many people who’d stopped by to grab the few goodies I’d managed to put together with such short notice.
The art I’d created for the reviews had been an afterthought, but since I’d always been an avid reader, romance novels breaking me free of the strict deadlines and pressure-driven atmosphere of work, the art had seemed merely an extension.
That allowed me to reach a happy zone. Although being at the conference had certainly provided me with some aspects of self-doubts.
Between talent, timing, and finding people to believe in you and your product, there was a lot to digest. Plus, my change in careers, other than my previous work with social media, was far removed from what I’d studied in college.
Nope. I had no intention of mentally derailing myself.
Certainly not here while I was enjoying meeting new people.
For the next hour, I really put myself out there, working my way through shyness to having readers ask to take pictures with me. And the best thing about the afternoon was learning how many readers had trusted the advice from my reviews. Quite empowering.
When I finally managed to take a deep breath given the crowd was thinning out, I grabbed my water bottle. As I scanned the room, prickles suddenly drifted across both arms, a tickle of hair on the back of my neck creating a shiver.
As if I was being watched.
There was no reason to be nervous, more perplexed than anything. I slowly scanned the still crowded room, noticing someone who stood taller than everyone else. Was it possible the mystery man had entered the ballroom? If so, why?
Without realizing, I moved around my table, heading toward one of three doors leading to the corridor. Only when I was halfway through did I catch sight of who I thought was the handsome stranger.
Groaning, I turned away. Not him.
I headed back to my table, but oddly enough, the sensations lingered.
With the afternoon winding down, I was enthused but tired, maybe even looking forward to the evening’s festivities.
Now, time for a little R & R. If only I’d thought about bringing a bottle of wine with me. I followed several people into the crowded elevator, even laughing at myself that I’d evidently gotten off on the wrong floor the night before.
If that had really happened.
In a way, I hoped that I had kissed the hot stranger. I’d leave him with something more than just a burn on his arm. Right below a gorgeous tattoo. The same tattoo I’d seen at the coffee shop. Yep, I’d kissed Mr. Hottie.
Should I try to find him to apologize or pray I never ran into him again?
In my entire life.
I resisted laughing in the crowded space, getting off quickly as soon as the elevator had reached my floor.
At least I was certain of my room number on this gorgeous late September day. I nodded to a couple of people as I passed, surprised the floor was as quiet as it was given the wild and crazy activity on the first couple of floors. The card worked on the first try, the green light flashing.
I headed in, tossing my bag in the entrance foyer. I’d yet to get over the fact I’d been provided with a suite complete with a living room, a small but elegant kitchen, a wraparound deck since I had a corner room, and a bed and bathroom full of luxury. And the views were to die for.
They’d captured my attention every time I’d entered.
Not today.
Even though the wall of glass and the open drapes allowed for the same spectacular view, that wasn’t what captured my attention almost the moment I’d walked in.
My mouth had already dropped open as I walked closer to the living room and kitchen area.
On the granite island separating the two rooms were two huge, and I do mean huge, baskets full of goodies.
As I walked closer, I was shocked to find wine and champagne, crackers and cheeses from every corner of the world.
There were pates that had to come from the local delicatessen, olives, nuts.
Everything that I would never consider purchasing at a specialty grocery store because of the expense was nestled inside the woven artisan baskets. That wasn’t all. On the table in the living room were flowers.
Not just a store-bought bouquet of whatever flowers the company had cultivated because they were cheap.
Oh, no. One vase was full of roses so beautiful and so aromatic they took my breath away even from across the room.
In hues of red and yellow, purple and the most stunning peach, the floral display reminded me of a rainbow.
In the other crystal vase was a collection of tropical flowers, many of which I had no clue their names or origins, but the stunning display reminded me of something I’d see in Hawaii.
I was flabbergasted, uncertain how to react. Was there any chance this was simply a bribe sent by Jordan to try to keep my mouth shut?
Hmmm… Now that made sense. I wouldn’t put anything past the man. He obviously hadn’t figured out what I was made of during our time working together.
Or rather when he was doing everything in his power to have me tossed to the curb.
I came this close to tossing the baskets against the wall, but why waste such deliciousness? I’d consume to my heart’s desire then torment him that much more.
The fragrance of the roses called to me and I walked closer, almost feeling like a traitor in doing so. There was a card. Oh, goodie. I couldn’t wait to see if the dude would resort to groveling.
By the time I removed the card from the envelope, I’d shredded a portion. The card itself was heavy linen parchment and of the finest quality.
The note?
My pleasure…
C.T.
I lifted my head, finally staring at the gorgeous mountains in the distance. And for whatever reason, I started to tremble.
Especially since I gathered an entirely different scent inside the room, the faint, smoky trail of a man’s aftershave.
It was the exact scent of rain-soaked woods and spices.
Just gathering a trace of it in the air made my skin tingle with a sudden, vivid image of a tall, dark, and very handsome stranger.
Who’d been inside my room.
Watching me.
Why did I have the distinct feeling I’d ignited a fire and soon the burning embers would turn into a raging firestorm with no method of control?