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“The Hollywood sign?”
“You’ll be able to see that from the Griffith Observatory.”
“And the stars on the sidewalk—”
“The Walk of Fame. Not too far from Rodeo.” He’s still holding my hand, and I’m starting to get excited.
“Venice Beach, Santa Monica, Mullholland Drive… I guess we don’t have time to tour any celebrity homes…”
“The Hollywood sights are pretty close together. We’ll be right in the middle of it tomorrow. The beaches are probably too far for this trip.”
I make a sad face, and he lifts our clasped hands, kissing the back of mine. “We’ll have to come back.”
My breath catches at his words. Have we reached the point of making future plans?
“Okay.” The word comes out on a breath.
“We have offices out here now. We’re going to have to make an effort to be on the west coast more often.”
Oh, right. Duh, Rocky. Cool your over-active imagination.
He looks out the window, and I feel like a naive little girl. This actually is a business trip. We have clients here we need to meet with and solidify our relationships. This isn’t a sex trip to LA as he so delicately put it back at the office.
The car pulls up in front of the Ritz Carlton, passing the Grammy Museum and the Staples Center on the way, which I excitedly point out. I step out, looking all the way up to the sky before Patton drags me through the doors into an expansive, beige-stone lobby.
It’s bright and open, and elegantly dressed couples mix with couples wearing long shorts and too-tight tees with flip flops walking from the bar to the elevators. I wait by the complimentary cucumber water while Patton checks us in.
“They’re sending up our luggage.” He takes my hand
and leads me to the gleaming elevators. I’m still looking all around like I’ve never been in a nice hotel before. Actually, I’m hoping to have a celebrity sighting.
Patton leans toward my ear as if reading my mind. “The stars stay up in Brentwood.”
“How far away is that?”
“Far enough.”
The elevator dings and we step inside with a few other couples. They’re not celebrities, and I feel Patton’s eyes on me. Glancing to the side, he’s got a mischievous grin on his face. It makes my stomach feel tight. I’m instantly thinking about our moment in an elevator not too long ago and wishing we were alone. That man has the most talented tongue…
Eventually, it’s just the two of us going higher, and I study the panel. “What floor are we on?”
“The penthouse suites are on the fifty-first floor. Here.” He hands me a plastic card. “You need it to take the elevator to the top.”
My chest squeezes. “Sandra put us in a penthouse suite… together?”
“She booked you a regular king room, but you’re staying with me.”
A soft tone sounds, and the elevator stops, opening to a small foyer area with four large, brown doors spaced out and leading to individual suites.
Patton exits the elevator, and I follow him slowly, trying to decide how I feel about this. “I don’t get a say in where I stay?”
He swipes the door open, and holds it, looking back with that same grin. “Come inside and tell me what you think.”
Marching across the short space, I’m planning out my comeback when my breath is stolen by two walls of windows with a view of the whole city and the San Gabriel Mountains hazy in the distance.
“Oh…” It’s a breathless sigh as I walk across the dark wood floors covered in beige carpets to kneel on the sofa in front of the window. “Look at it.”
The door closes, and I hear Patton chuckle as he goes to the kitchen and takes two bottles of San Pellegrino from the fridge.
