Wishing Well(34)
Nodding, Meadow worked to swallow the knot in her throat. “Quid pro quo, Vincent?”
His grin was lazy and sincere. “Yes, Meadow, quid pro quo.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Penny
The following days after witnessing émilie and Vincent at the well were spent actively avoiding my employer as much as possible. When I wasn’t cleaning hotel rooms, I was down in the employee office asking Theresa if there were any other chores she needed done. She believed I was one hell of an employee, while I was actually looking for any excuse to stay hidden. Too afraid that Vincent had seen me watching and would corner me with questions, I also took my days off to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles to have my identification replaced, and I managed to catch a movie or two when I didn’t actually have the extra money for it.
But after four days of doing what I could to avoid him, the day came where I could no longer stay out of sight.
“Have you been enjoying your job at Wishing Well?” a deeply masculine voice whispered against my ear. Jumping in place, my back met a strong chest, my body spinning to find that Vincent was far too close for me to breath easily. I’d been so caught up in polishing the brass elevator doors on the third floor, that I hadn’t heard him approach. A ball of fear lodged in my throat, my answer coming out curt and broken. “Yes. It’s great. Pays the bills.”
Nervousness was obvious in my voice. Vincent, noticing the reaction, smiled as he stepped back to give me room. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was passing by and realized I’ve not spoken to you in several days. I’m happy to hear the job is working out. It would be a shame to lose such a ... diligent ... employee.”
I could feel my cheeks flaring red, my thighs squeezing together just a tad too tight. Thanking God this man couldn’t read my thoughts, I tried to ignore the way my mind conjured images of what I’d seen that night at the well.
“Diligent?” I asked, swallowing.
Sensuous laughter floated across his lips, the sound deep, dark and heady. Fuck, I was in trouble. There was nothing about this man that didn’t attract me and I would have to step up my hiding game just to keep from being in trouble of one kind only to step into trouble of another.
“I spoke with Theresa. She’s very impressed with your dutiful behavior. As am I. Keep up the good work, Penelope.”
He turned to walk off, and I blurted, “Are you going downstairs?”
Not bothering to change course and turn back to me, he merely glanced over his strong, broad shoulder. “I can take the stairs.”
“But, the elevator would be easier.”
His lips quirked, amusement causing his jeweled eyes to sparkle. “You haven’t finished polishing. And it’s only three flights down. I’m sure I can manage.”
With that, he walked off silently, his powerful stride catching my eye until I found myself leaning back against the elevator doors. I’d failed to remember there was still wet polish on the brass until he disappeared into the stairwell. Spinning, I saw that I’d have to start all over again. “Shit,” I muttered, unable to catch the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach so that I could shred their tiny wings.
Three more days went by, each one passing as slow as a disabled turtle crawling through several feet of soft mud. Remaining scarce and out of sight was becoming far more difficult than I imagined. It seemed like every time I turned around, Vincent was nearby. My heart would stutter at the sight of him, then crash down into my feet when he glanced my direction without bothering to say a word in greeting. It especially bothered me when there was a beautiful woman on his arm because I never knew if she was a business associate, a guest, or a special friend that he was entertaining for the evening.
Why did I even care? He was my boss, and I had obviously read way too much into what had occurred between us in the garden.
The next several days I barely saw Vincent at all. Every so often, I found myself peeking outside the window of my room to stare down at the well, wondering if I would catch him again in some romantic liaison. It occurred to me that I missed staring at him as he walked past. I missed those split second opportunities for him to glance at me, even if he didn’t acknowledge my existence. Leaving my room to take a walk in the garden on my own, I had to admit to myself that I’d created a fantasy of a man in my head that I had no hope of coming true.
I’d never been so lust-struck while dating Blake, but then again, he had always been so easily accessible. Maybe this was what it meant to be an adult: a life lived with zero chance of having one day, one moment, of knowing how your dreams would turn out. You simply have to shuffle through it, hoping for the best while preparing for the day you eventually fell down.
The moon was holding court as I stepped outside, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t checked the time before leaving my room. It didn’t much matter how late it was, I wasn’t scheduled to work the following morning.
While strolling down the long, winding paths of cobblestone, I noticed smaller pebbled paths that led to out of the way alcoves and seating places set about to be both in view and out. A chorus of night insects was a soft lullaby on the air, and without consciously deciding on a path to follow, I found myself drawing close to the well.
It was there that Vincent and I had shared a private moment, there that I witnessed an event that had frightened me for a few days after, and as I turned to my left to gaze down a darker stretch, I spotted the alcove where Vincent had dragged me, remembered the solitary swing that hung from a tree branch that overhung the tall flowing shrubs providing the alcove privacy.