I tossed a pillow at her and laughed. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, I like this one.”
“It’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, as I believe I’ve mentioned, his family and my family have been at war for half a century. But even if we put all of that aside, there’s a million reasons it’s a bad idea. I just came out of a long-term relationship. This thing between me and Weston has rebound written all over it. Come on—I hopped from a nice-looking, safe, stable playwright to the sexy-as-sin bad boy with a ton of baggage. Could it be any more cliché? Not to mention, we both have some pretty big trust issues.” I shook my head. “Weston is like a bright star on a dark night. He can light up the sky, but eventually that fire burns out and all the pieces crumble. Then you’re left in the dark.”
“You do know the sun is a star, too, right? Sometimes we can rely on a star to come back every day.”
I sighed.
“You’ll figure it out,” Scarlett said. “Just promise you won’t let your family or Liam factor into your decision whether Weston might be right for you. Whatever you decide, it should be about you and Weston only.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
After we finished breakfast, Scarlett talked me into going shopping. I went to check in on the construction, since we had crews running even on Sundays. Then I took a quick shower and tied my hair up while she sat in my suite having a third cup of coffee and reading bits and pieces of the news to me aloud. It felt exactly like a Sunday morning back in London. Which made me realize I wasn’t going to lose our friendship because of the distance between us now. Where we were didn’t matter; we’d always find a way. London just wasn’t my home anymore.
“You ready to go shopping?” I asked when I was finally ready, grabbing my purse.
She looked down. “I’m wearing flats. What does that tell you?”
I smiled. While I often wore flats, and even sneakers sometimes, Scarlett almost always wore heels of some sort, unless she was exercising. Which meant we’d both be getting a full cardio workout today as we ran around the City.
Opening the door to my suite, I almost crashed into a bellman who had his knuckles raised to knock on my door. Startled, my hand flew to my chest as I stopped abruptly.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
“My fault. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. It’s Walter, right?”
“It is.” He nodded and smiled, then held up a long white flower box. “I was just delivering this. Mr. Lockwood said I should put them in your suite if you weren’t here.”
“Mr. Lockwood asked you to deliver them?”
He nodded. “He was at the front desk when they were delivered a few minutes ago.”
I was surprised, not just that Weston had sent me flowers, but that he’d had a member of the staff deliver them to me. For the most part, we’d been very discreet around the hotel.
“Oh. Okay, thank you.”
Walter passed me the box and turned to go.
“Wait! Let me give you a tip.” I dug in my purse, but the bellman held up his hand.
“Mr. Lockwood already took care of that. But thank you.”
Scarlett was all smiles as I brought the box into the suite.
“Looks like your flash-in-the-pan star has a romantic side.”
The box was tied with a big red bow, so I set it down on the living room coffee table and untied it. Inside were two dozen beautiful yellow roses. A small card lay on top. I didn’t even realize I was smiling until I slipped it from the envelope and read. Then I felt my upturned lips droop to a frown.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
I miss you. Please call me back.
-Liam
Scarlett saw my face and walked over to peek at the card.
“It doesn’t run smooth?” she said. “Yes, true love will hit some bumps in the road when you stick your dick in your girlfriend’s cousin. God, that man truly is a tosser.”
“The quote is from Shakespeare.”
“Figures.” She rolled her eyes. “Dull roses and recycled bullshit. The man never could be original. I bet if Weston sent you flowers, they’d be wildflowers or something as rare and unique as you are. And I’d prefer a card that said, ‘Let’s fuck’ over some pretentious quote any day of the week.”
Weston.
Shit.
I’d momentarily forgotten that the bellman said Mr. Lockwood had accepted the delivery and made sure they were sent right up to my room.
But something told me when I ran into him next, he wouldn’t have forgotten.
Chapter 18
* * *
Weston
“Well, don’t you look like shit.”
Not even Mr. Thorne ’s insults could make me smile this morning.
When I’d left Sophia’s room, I’d felt conflicted. I didn’t want her to think I was a good man, only to feel like she’d had the rug pulled out from under her when she got to know me better and realized I wasn’t. That was exactly what her asshole of an ex had done. But by the time I’d showered and gotten dressed, I’d started to get over myself. The fantastic night we’d shared together pushed my concerns to the side, at least for the time being. I even ordered her damn flowers. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sent a woman flowers. But then I’d gone downstairs and happened to be at the front desk when a delivery arrived for her—and not from the florist I’d visited.
My morning was shot to hell after that.
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
The look on Mr. Thorne ’s face told me what he was thinking. I shook my head. “I wasn’t out partying. I did go to a club, but I didn’t fall off the wagon.”
He wagged a crooked finger at me. “You know better than that. Going to a place where everyone around you is indulging is asking for trouble.”
I couldn’t argue, because he was right—though I spent every day in one hotel or another that had a few bars. Some of our properties even had clubs in them. Unless I was changing my line of work, I wouldn’t be avoiding places that served alcohol. Besides, I hadn’t had the urge to drink last night. My mind had been too busy obsessing over Sophia.
“Yeah, I know. But it wasn’t like that.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t even tempted.”
Mr. Thorne shook his head anyway. “Did you at least bring my ticket?”
I grabbed the scratch-off from my back pocket and handed him the book from his nightstand he always leaned on. “One ten-dollar ticket, like you asked for.”
He put on his reading glasses, grabbed a quarter, and went to work. “So…you stayed at this club all night? And that’s why you look like a raccoon?”
I shook my head. “I spent the night with the woman I’ve been seeing, if you must know.”
“Sophia?”
“Yeah, Sophia.”
He finished scratching off the gray latex and brushed the scraps from the lotto ticket. “You two going steady now?”