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Sam’s place, where I kissed his little sister on the back steps the day before I left town for good.
After promising my best friend I’d never cross that line.
I was tempted to drive to the top of the Hills, the rich neighborhood behind downtown, and watch the sunrise from the viewpoint up there that overlooked the whole valley. Instead, I came back to the hotel and wrapped the shirt Cora had worn around my stiff cock while I jerked off, hating myself the whole time. After that, I went into the bathroom and shaved my beard and trimmed my hair. It was the only way I could think of to feel less like a creep—to show my face.
And maybe look presentable for this meeting this morning that was now a complete bust.
“Listen,” the guy in the chair says, speaking up for the first time. “It’s a real shame you came all this way with your head all mixed up about what the plan was, but you go snap a few photos of the front of the hotel, maybe some spots around town. George’ll throw a promo code on the article, and if I see any increase in sales with it, maybe he’ll… comp you a breakfast on your next stay. Okay?” He winks at George, who looks like he’s going to be sick.
“Sorry, are you the CEO here or George?”
“George and I are in a partnership. Aren’t we George?”
I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I know George is in over his head, and somehow, this guy is running the show.
It’s that that makes me bite back everything I was about to unleash on him.
He’s not the one who signed my release forms—I don’t need to convince him to let me take the photos of the abandoned east wing. I’ll just find a way to get the shots the way I do when things get sticky on any shoot. I’ll get inside on my own. If I get caught, I’ll show them the paperwork. Which should work for any legal issues when the images get published too.
I think.
“Fine. It was nice meeting with you,” I tell George, ignoring the slime ball.
George doesn’t even question how easily I back down, but he looks like he could weep with relief that I do.
I head back to my room to get my laptop to print off the agreements, which I’ll stick in my back pocket before heading back outside to pick the lock where I’d met the security guard. Maybe I’ll email my buddy Jude while I’m at it, let him know what’s going on in his family’s hotel, and tell him what I’m planning on doing. Jude Kelly is one of the few people I’ve kept in touch with from home. He’s the reason I found out about Shannon Kelly–his mom–passing. Jude won’t care if I take the photos–or if I have to sneak into the building to do it. He, Sam, and I used to get up to all kinds of mischief when we were kids; he’d probably give me a high five. These days, Jude’s removed from the resort, having spent the past decade playing pro tennis. But it would still make me feel better to be open about it.
There’s a maid cart down the hall from my room, but I hung thedo not disturbsign on my door before I left. So I nearly jump out of my damn skin when I push open the door to see someone whirling at the sound of the latch opening.
And I nearly drop my damn camera when I see it’s Cora Caplin, holding my blue T-shirt in her hand.
CHAPTER5
Cora
Panic rocks through me, followed by a swell of mortification.
“Oh God,” I say. My heart thuds against my ribs. Tristan—or world-famous photographer TJ Galloway, as last night’s internet scouring revealed—stares at me, frozen at the door to his room. A newly shaved Tristan who, though he’s clearly a man now, is also instantly recognizable as the subject of my deepest, most aching-heart teenage dreams.
“Tristan, I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. He sounds upset.
Of course he is. But it’s not until I follow his gaze that I understand just how bad this is.
His eyes are on the shirt in my hand.
Oh God.I toss the shirt onto the bed, my mortification deepening. I didn’t mean to snoop in Tristan’s room. I definitely didn’t mean to pick up the shirt I’d left for him on the door of my apartment building last night. The one that’s kind of stiff now, like he used it for…
I cut my thoughts off. “I didn’t know this was your room. I just get the list of refreshes and I happened to get this floor…”
I also scanned all the lists this morning and chose the one that had more than one person checking out the day I thought Tristan might be leaving. Just in case I might come across his room.
“You work here,” Tristan says. It’s more of a statement than a question. “That’s how you know George.”
“Yes,” I say. “Unfortunately.” I look down at my uniform. I refuse to be embarrassed about my job, even though it’s my brother Mom brags to her friends about. “I mean, I always wanted to work here, because of Eleanor.” It had been perfect for me, actually, until management changed hands. “But I’m looking for something else. Shannon Kelly hired me last year. She was lovely, but now she’s dead and George sucks.”
What is wrong with me?
