“But yet you accidentally fell on his cock again?”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“It sounds…illicit. Maybe this is what you need after the doldrums of Liam Albertson the last year and a half.”
“What I need is to keep away from Weston. I don’t know what happens to me, but every time we have a fight, we end up clawing at each other.”
“That sounds positively divine.”
She wasn’t entirely wrong. In the heat of the moment, it was positively divine. But the short, cheap thrill didn’t last when the clouds of lust started to clear. And then I felt worse than ever. Plus, I was here to do a job, not fraternize with the enemy.
“Do they still sell chastity belts? I think I might need one.”
“I think what you need is what you just got—to get laid by someone more exciting than Liam.”
“Have you ever been attracted to someone you know is no good for you?”
“Do you not remember me telling you I slept with my forty-year-old psych professor my first year of college? He was divorced three times already, and his last wife had been a former student. It was the dumbest thing I ever did. But man, it was the best sex I ever had. The guy was like catnip. Every day I’d walk into class and say I wasn’t going to do it again. Then he’d say, ‘Miss Everson, could I see you after class a moment?’ He’d say it in this tone like he’d caught me cheating, and he was going to scold me. And that was it. My ass went home with black dry erase marker all over it because he liked to pin me to the whiteboard.”
“How did you eventually end it?”
“The semester ended, and I didn’t sign up for Psych Two on purpose. As long as I didn’t see him, I was fine.”
I sighed. “Well, that’s not going to work in my situation. We’re both stuck here for the next month or so, at least.”
“Well, fighting is what gets you hot and bothered about this guy, right?”
I felt disappointed in myself, but that was the truth. “Yeah. It’s like I want to take my anger out on him physically.”
“Okay, then. Just stop fighting with him.”
I started to say that wouldn’t work, but… Huh. It was a simple suggestion. Could it be that easy?
“I’m not sure the two of us can get along. We’ve never done anything but argue.”
“Welp. Sounds like it’s either make nice or you’ll have another accident.”
I guess it couldn’t hurt to try. “Maybe I’ll do that.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. You’re going to get some shuteye for the next few hours, and I’m going to make the new temp cry by the end of the day.”
I laughed. “That sounds about right.”
“Off to sleep you go. Call me the next time you fall off the wagon and shag this Weston guy again.”
“Hopefully, that won’t be happening. I’ll see you end of next week.”
“Bye, love!”
Swiping my phone off, I plugged it into the charger on the nightstand before pulling up the covers.
Scarlett was right. It was simple, really. All I needed to do was be nice to Weston. That couldn’t be too hard.
Or could it?
Chapter 7
* * *
Sophia
“Good morning, Weston.” I flashed my most dazzling smile.
Apparently dazzle wasn’t something Weston was used to seeing on me. His brows pulled down, and he studied me with suspicion. “Good morning?”
He was seated behind the desk in what had been Ms. Copeland’s office. I’m sure he expected a fight over who got to use the big, corner office with the view of the park. But instead, I walked directly over to the round meeting table and kept my smile firmly in place.
“So, I’d like to fill you in on the other issues the general manager told me about yesterday. Maybe we could split up the list I’ve made and each be the point person for different things?”
“Uhh… Yeah, that makes sense.”
Weston was definitely waiting for the other shoe to drop. Though I didn’t have one. I’d given a lot of thought to the conversation Scarlett and I had early this morning and determined maybe she was on to something. Until the last few days, I’d considered myself pretty vanilla, but apparently some deep, dark part of me got off on arguing with this man. If Weston and I got along, I might have a better chance of not ending up with my panties around my ankles.
Weston got up from the desk and walked over to where I sat. This morning, I’d typed up a long list of the issues Louis and I had discussed. I slid three stapled pages over to the opposite side of the table and looked up at Weston.
“This is a list of things we should discuss. I prioritized them, but we should go over them all. I’m going to run downstairs and get some more coffee. Maybe you could read through what I’ve typed, and we can discuss it when I get back?” I stood from my chair.
The look on Weston’s face was pretty comical. He was waiting for me to be difficult. Not going to happen today, buddy. I headed toward the door and then stopped and turned back. “Would you like me to pick you up some coffee? Maybe some fruit or a muffin, too?”
“Uhhh... Yeah, that would be great. I’ll take a large black coffee and a blueberry muffin.”
“No problem.” This time I even managed to show my teeth with my over-the-top smile. Being sweet was almost like a new form of torture for Weston. Who knew? Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
As I turned to walk out, he stopped me.
“Wait. You’re not going to poison my coffee or something, are you?”
I laughed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
My fake-cheery demeanor had seemed to sink in. On my way down to the coffee shop, I caught myself whistling. Not only did I enjoy making Weston feel off kilter, my neck really appreciated the lack of tension. I’d had a giant knot in it since I boarded the plane a few days ago.
When I returned to the office, Weston was still at the round meeting table. He’d written some notes on the list I’d given him and now had a yellow legal pad with even more scribbled notes, and he was scrolling through his phone. I handed him his coffee and the bag with his blueberry muffin, along with a chipper smile.
“I had them warm the muffin for you. Hope that’s okay. There are some butter pats in the bag, if you want them.”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Yeah, that’s great. Thanks.”
I took the seat across from him and peeled back the plastic tab on my coffee before picking up my pen. “Why don’t we start with my list? And when we’re done, you can tell me how things went with the union yesterday and what I can do to help there.”
“Okay…”
For the next hour, I ran Weston through the issues I’d discussed with Louis. After I finished, he slumped back in his chair.
“We have our work cut out for us.”
“Yes, but I think we’ll make a good team, and we’ll be able to whip this place into shape in no time.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. If anyone knows hotels, it’s us. We both grew up in them, years before we even started working for our families. It’s in our blood. I’ve already reached out to two contractors we’ve used at Sterling properties before, and I set up a meeting with one of them at two o’clock this afternoon to discuss the construction that needs to be finished in the ballroom.”