Without a Hitch(65)

“Hi,” she says sheepishly.

“Hi.” My voice is nearly unrecognizable. There’s a warmth to it I’m learning is reserved just for her.

“Sorry. It’s been a day.”

“It has. Are you hungry?” After watching her stress eat earlier, I’m concerned I didn’t prepare the flight staff well enough.

A low groan of protest tells me she’s feeling the effects of her champion-esque eating skills.

“God, no. I don’t think I can eat again for a week.” She smiles sheepishly and lifts her gaze. “Or at least until tonight.”

“Good to know. I have the contracts if you’d like to look at them. It’s all laid out for you. The terms, I think you’ll find, are very generous.” And they are. I made sure of it. I may not be able to explain the connection between us, but she deserves to be rewarded for making me feel something again. I truly had thought myself a lost cause in that respect.

She nods and takes the folder I hand her with one hand while wiping sleep from her eyes with the other. I watch as she scans each sheet twice. She scribbles notes, asks questions, and finally, sets down her pen. “Did your lawyer put these together?”

“Yes.”

“They seem to be very much in my favor.”

“Yes.”

“Why? You’re obviously a savvy businessman. Why wouldn’t you ensure you had the upper hand?”

“You’re helping me get something I need, Tilly. There isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to have this deal succeed. Plus, I get to bask in your sunshine for three weeks. I like that more than you could know.”

Her cheeks flush, and I watch in fascination as a hint of it creeps down her neck.

“Can you promise me one thing?” Her voice is small, so unlike her usual self, that I lean forward in my seat.

“I’ll try,” I answer honestly.

“Promise me you won’t hate me at the end of this? Promise me we can be friends, even if it hurts.”

I nod. That’s the last thing I expected, but it’s so her. Kindhearted to her very core. She closes her eyes, and when they open again, she’s regrouped. Grabbing the pen, she scrawls her signature across all the pages with yellow tags sticking out.

It’s done. She’s mine. For three weeks. I’m going to get my revenge and remember what it feels like to be happy, even if only for a short time.

“Can I ask you something?” I shouldn’t, but it’s been bothering me since I went through her phone.

“Sure.” She pulls her legs up under her in the seat. It’s such a relaxed position, so innocent, it does something to me. My heart reacts to the vision of her like a sprinter attempting a marathon. I clutch my chest and know I’m losing all control of myself when she’s around.

“Why haven’t you written about my hotels? In your blog, I mean.” My breath halts in my lungs as I wait for her answer.

She scans my face for a moment. “It didn’t seem right. You’re Colton’s best friend. I try to keep my posts and reviews honest, open, and fair. Sometimes venues don’t like the truth of how they treat their employees exposed. I didn’t want to put Colton in a bad position if my identity ever came out.”

Jealously unfurls in my chest. She did it because, in some way, she cares for Colton. It has nothing to do with me. I know that’s ridiculous, but I can’t help it.

“I see.” Vulnerability creeps out in two little words.

“I have stayed at your hotels before though.” I lift a brow to see if she’ll continue. “From everything I’ve gathered, you’re a good employer. You raise industry standards for all your competitors. I admire that about you. From housekeeping to the concierge, you’re invested in their well-being even if you do actively keep yourself apart from them. Most large chains can’t say that.”

Pride blooms in my chest. Not because of my work, but from her praise of it. I know I work tirelessly to be the best. Hearing Tilly compliment that hard work is a reward I didn’t know I was seeking.

“Thank you. Employee morale is important to me,” I say quietly. I’m unable to keep from glaring at the candy bowls to my right. This conversation has me on edge and the urge to make sure the candies are sorted into the correct containers is all-consuming.

A loud song startles me. My phone vibrates as a woman sings, the last word in the lyrics is “lover” before it starts again. I raise a brow at Tilly. I’d had my phone on silent until this flight.

“What did you do?” I ask lightly. My cheek twitches as I attempt to suppress a grin.

“You told me once that you don’t listen to music, so I changed your ringtone. Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’ seemed appropriate.” She studies me, smiling, but her eyes are troubled.

“You’re right. I don’t listen to music. It’s distracting, I guess. I’m a singularly focused man.” My gaze rakes over her body, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. She’s a live wire, all right.

“What about when you were younger?”

I think for a moment. My father loves music. My mother too. It always played at their homes, but I can’t remember anything about it. I shrug. “I’m sure it’s been around, but it’s not like I have a favorite song or anything. I probably wouldn’t even be able to name a song that’s been popular in my lifetime.”