Page 22 of Winning Her

Once the cake was ready to be decorated, I had to be the one to do it. Laura just stood to the side and watched as I started to work my magic on the food; it wasn't so much about the taste of the cake, but all about the presentation. Something I prided myself on doing well. When I’d layered the cake with the filling we moved back over to the couch and sat down, cake and wine settled on the coffee table in front of us.

“Now, where were we?” Laura asked, looking at me as she took a sip from her glass.

I sighed. “We’re eating cake, not talking about Trent. The last thing I want to do is talk about him right now.”

She nodded in understanding. “You know you can talk to me anytime though, right? And Emily too.”

I snorted. “No way. I know him way better than she does, but she’s still his sister, you know? It would be awkward.”

“I suppose,” she admitted, her expression thoughtful. “Though she’s a good enough friend if you wanted to badmouth her brother in front of her, she’d probably just join you.”

I didn’t argue with that. I missed Emily, but she hadn't shown up at the hotel, and I wasn’t going back to the mansion now. And I imagined she must have been busy with her Dad being ill. I didn’t know if Laura knew that part of the rumors yet, but I didn’t mention it just in case. It wasn’t my story to tell.

We spent our time gossiping and eating the tiramisu, quickly going through the wine. By the time the bottle was empty, we were just starting to enjoy ourselves, so Laura picked another random bottle and opened it. Time was passing but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have the early shift in the morning.

After what felt like hours, we were finally getting exhausted and leaned against each other on the couch. I drank the last of my wine and reached over to set my glass on the table, nearly falling over in the process. Laura caught me, saving the glass from slamming into the coffee table with my forearm. I winced at the light ache, then we both dissolved into girlish giggles.

Laura sighed. “Oh, this was fun. I don’t know why we didn’t try it earlier.”

I smiled wryly. “If we did this often our jobs might be in jeopardy. And do you know how much that wine we drank costs? If it hadn't tasted so good, I’d be crying over my bank account right now.”

“Really?” she asked, looking at me with a wince. “Do you need me to help you pay for it?”

I waved her off. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll handle it tomorrow. Hopefully, no one will need those two bottles for anything.”

She let out another sigh. “It’s getting pretty late. I should probably be getting home now…”

“Call for a taxi before you step outside,” I said in warning. “The area is pretty safe, but it’s better to be cautious.”

She nodded as she took her phone from her purse and dialed for one. I waited for her until the taxi came, and we parted with a hug, her going to take her taxi, me heading up the stairs to my room.

I was a little tipsy on the steps, and the heaviness of my shoes didn’t help. I didn’t let myself drink all that often, especially since my parents didn’t like it and only took the occasional champagne or wine during a party at the mansion themselves. But I’d already tried the elevator, and I was just tipsy enough that it seemed I couldn’t get it to work.

Maybe it’s broken, I thought, as I started up the first set of stairs.

I lived several floors up in a room tucked away from the guests’ rooms. It was exhausting, climbing up all those steps, and I kept stopping to take a breath and going so slow it took me ten times longer than it would have taken if I’d just gone for the elevator. I could have gone for the one in the lobby used by the guests, but it was a rule that the staff and hotel guests mixed as little as possible outside of duties.

“Finally,” I muttered to myself after clearing another set of stairs, to realize I’d made it to my floor.

I pulled the door to exit the stairs, stumped for a moment when it wouldn’t open. Then I remembered I was supposed to push it, so I did. Only I pushed with too much force and went barreling out—right into the wide chest of the one person I didn’t want to see at that moment.

Trent.

“Hey, there,” he said, catching me as I fell into him, and looking at me with a frown. “Do you ever watch where you’re going, Jessi?”

But I was hardly paying attention to his words, because for the first time since he’d got back, I was looking at him and not trying to find the teenage kid I’d known in the grown man’s face.

“Trent,” I murmured more to myself than him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He frowned harder, but I was hardly paying attention to his bad mood.

It was like looking at him for the first time, as though I hadn't really seen the man Trent had become before. I hadn't noticed, but he had changed. Just like me. He’d been a high school boy before, closer to the end of puberty than I was. Being this close to him again and looking at him now, I could see those changes.

In the swift brutal moments I’d seen him before, I hadn’t had time to notice that his shoulders had broadened, and he must either be the outdoors type or go to the gym a lot because the muscles I could feel under my hands beneath his suit coat were very well developed. Enough that I had to swallow back spit because I was just chomping at the bit to see.

When did I even put my hands on him? When did I land on him?

He’d been muscled when he was younger, but had he been this big? He might have gained a couple of inches to reach his current six foot five, though it could just be my mind highlighting how delectable he was now than when he’d been an arrogant little boy making me miserable.