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“That’s one hell of a lump,” Matt remarks, looking at Perry.
“I already feel like shit about it, but thanks for reminding me,” he mutters and helps himself to a drink. “Matt?”
“No, I’m good, thanks. I will hang about for a bit to keep an eye on her.”
“Do you think she needs to go back to the hospital?”
“No. She is over the worst, but she will be tired on and off for a while. The dizziness will subside soon. I’m more concerned about the pain she is in. A lot of the bruising has come out. She needs rest and lots of it.”
“Is it safe for her to be sleeping?”
“How did she sleep last night?” He looks directly at me, the nosy fucker.
“I don’t know. She was at home.”
“Alone?”
“I would assume so.” I shrug.
“With a concussion? Smart,” DeLuca mutters sarcastically.
“You just said she is fine,” I retort snidely.
Matt shakes his head. “Given that she passed out today and is still woozy, it’s best you try to rouse her every so often. I’m due at the hospital in a few hours, so I need to head home and grab a couple of hours’ sleep before my shift.” I level my friend with a hard stare, and he sighs, frustrated. “I can keep an eye on her for a bit, but one of you should pop in and check on her after I’m gone. Every hour or two, tops,” Matteo offers, his tone hard.
“Okay.” I sip the last of my drink and stare at the remnants coating the glass.
“How do you know her?”
“She works here,” Perry pipes up when I glare at Matt from my seat.
He takes a chair opposite me. “And she’s in on her day off?”
“Yes.” I hiss. The room quietens, but the tension builds.
* * *
Matteo and I have spent the last few hours slipping in to check on Lauren. He’s gone now, and I stand at the door, trying to psych myself up to go in alone. It feels wrong, and I know I should wait for Perry to return, but some part of me wants to be alone with her, even if she is asleep. I grip the handle and quietly let myself in. It’s dark inside. The distinct sound of nightlife rushes up to meet the gap in the window but gets lost and carried away on the wind, where it filters out until it’s an echo in the sky. That's not the sound I want to hear. The soft, steady snore I’ve grown accustomed to these last few hours reaches my ears. Matteo seems to think it’s down to the swelling. I just think she snores, and I oddly like how comforting the noise is.
Her silhouette is laughable in comparison to the bed. Her small frame is lost amongst the quilt. Her dark locks are a stark contrast against the white sheets, yet her porcelain skin merges with the bedding. I move farther into the room, closer to her, where I see her face tilted upward and her lips parted slightly. “Lauren?” I whisper, trying to rouse her slightly, enough to gain movement but not to wake her. “Lauren?” I say louder, my voice deeper. She shifts and hooks her arm over the duvet. A light pink bra strap sits against her skin as she hugs the pillow and presses her face into it and murmurs. I stand still and watch her for a moment. She’s relaxed and seemingly content in her sleep. Slowly, I sit on the edge of bed and gently move her hair out of the way, revealing her delicate features, “You’re causing me all kinds of trouble, pretty girl,” I murmur. Her nose wrinkles, her lashes a silky curve against her cheeks. She grimaces in her sleep. She’s been doing that a lot. “I really want to fire you,” I admit lightly. “I really want to do an awful lot more.” My finger twists up a soft strand of hair, and I watch as she breathes, completely unaware of the turmoil she is causing me.
The door clicks open, and I stand abruptly and move away as Perry peers around the frame. “Is she okay?”
I eat up the carpet quickly as I move away from the woman in my bed. “I fucking hate you right now.”
“You wanted her in your bed, and now you have her. You’re welcome.” He grins and follows me into my office.
“I would prefer her to be conscious and less antagonistic,” I drawl.
“Then stop pissing her off!” He laughs, taking my office chair and kicking his feet up.
“Why do you care?” It’s not often that I insult a woman, if ever, but it seemed the only option with Lauren, given that she works for me. It’s easier if she doesn’t like me—easier to manage my attraction to her. She’s not the kind of woman I ever pictured myself with, intimately or otherwise. But she’s the only woman on my mind.
“I like her, okay? You can bend the rules just once.” I can't, not since the fiasco in Paris where an employee and client were caught up in an affair. I know that relationships will be formed on hotel grounds. I also know they will develop further when employees clock off, but if I can minimise that, ensure that fraternisation on hotel property is strictly forbidden, I will have less drama to deal with. Not to mention that I’m the boss, and starting an intimate relationship with an employee is a piss poor way to set the curve.
“Would you fuck one of your staff?”
“Yes.”
