Page 26 of Don't Tell

“Morning, Frank.” I finish signing in and slowly drop the pen. The last thing I want is to hear it hit the tile.

“So…are you finally going to tell me what’s going on between you and Mr. Nightingale? You’re being awfully tight-lipped about it,” Carmen says.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Roger was so scared — I swear I’ve never seen him that way. He locked himself in the supply room for twenty minutes. Can you imagine? If you ask me, he deserved it. He has been a tiny shitty man on a tiny shitty salary for too long. I really hope Mr. Nightingale buys this hotel so we can be rid of Roger once and for all.” Then she pokes me with her elbow. “Hey, maybe you’ll have his job.”

I groan. “Carmen…he didn’t mean that.”

“He definitely did, even if you’d like to believe otherwise. But…” Carmen turns to face me fully. She lowers her voice. “Even though I’m thrilled for you, whatever is going on between you and the man in the penthouse…be careful. He’s a powerful man. They are usually pretty overwhelming.” She stares at me meaningfully. “Take it from me.”

I blink at her. That’s when I realize I don’t know Carmen at all. She lets me see what she wants me to see, not every single thing about her. I’ve been so wrong.

“Thank you.”

Frank passes by again, and he stops in front of us this time. “What Roger did was wrong. If you ask me, he wasn’t yelled at enough for what he did.” He pats me on the shoulder lightly, then walks away.

“Looks like someone agrees with me.” Carmen pushes off the front desk. “I have to go. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah. I’ll be down early.”

She smiles at me and scurries off.

Before I can even move, Roger appears in front of me. “Jenkins!” He frowns up at me. This is the first time we’ve seen each other since “the incident,” because he's been avoiding me since then.

“Yes, Roger?”

“You’re late. Shouldn’t you be working by now? This is the kind of unprofessional behavior that…” He stops suddenly and glances around the hallway. His face goes red, as if he’s struggling to hold in what he wants to say.

I know it’s because of Cade’s threat. Roger must be terrified of him. I don’t blame him. Mr. Nightingale is quite intimidating.

“Just get to work, Jenkins.”

I don’t say anything. I turn and go retrieve my cart. After that, I head up to the penthouse. The anger is still there. I haven’t forgotten about Cade’s latest infraction. It seems he likesto push my buttons because I’m certain I told him to keep his money.

I fully intend on emphasizing that point today. I'm going up to that suite to give Cade Nightingale the piece of my mind he has earned.

He is at his desk when I open the bedroom door. He looks up, grins, and sets the tablet down. "Suzanne, how lovely of you to join me."

I hate it when he says my name. I hate the way it sounds on his lips. I especially hate the way it makes me feel.

“I don't want your money.” I leave my cart behind and march over to his desk. I’m grateful he’s sitting, so I can be the intimidating one for once. “Do you understand? I want nothing from you.”

“Hmm…” He gets to his feet slowly. He crosses to the bar cart. He pours water from a glass pitcher into two glasses. He brings one to my side of the desk and sets it down on the wood between us. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to…” His eyes find mine. “Suzanne.”

I grit my teeth. I refuse to give him the reaction he wants. “That’s not enough.”

“What will it take? Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

I open my mouth. I close it.

I came up here on my own steam and with a clear sentence. I did not — at any point on the elevator or in the corridor or crossing the room — prepare for him to ask. I look at the glass of water on the desk between us. I feel, for the first time since I walked in, the sharp, clean edge of how tired I am.

He sits on the edge of the desk.

He is closer to me now than he has been since the kiss. I'm acutely aware of where his hand has come to rest on the wood. I'm aware of the distance between his knee and my hip. I don’t move.

"Are you okay?"