Chapter 7 "These numbers aren't accurate." "I pulled them from the booking system⁠-" "Which does not include the contract with GrayStone that Mr. Wolf's assistant confirmed an hour ago," Belinda says crisply. "Please send updated figures to everyone in this room immediately." Minnie's head bobs in obedience. There's a long pause, and then Belinda's eyebrows arch. "Immediately means now, so that this meeting isn't a waste of time." "Oh. Right. Okay. Give me five minutes!" Minnie dashes out, her tablet pressed to her chest. Poor girl. I can't imagine what being Belinda's assistant is like. It might be worse than working under Henry. Every time I've seen Miles, he's either running or bugging out on caffeine. "Will one contract make that much of a difference for our purposes today?" Lena asks, voicing a question on the tip of my tongue. Belinda's heels click at a leisurely rhythm as she rounds the desk. "That one contract is an eight-figure commitment from a major company. It is one of the largest ever booked with Wolf Hotels, that Henry himself wrangled, and it will all but cement Mermaid Beach's record-breaking first year results, which is Henry's stretch goal. So, yes, I'd like you to see this contract and understand what is expected of you." Lena and I share a high-browed glance as Belinda does her lap, her short skirt hugging her curves. Meanwhile, a brunette I haven't met yet sits across from us, her oversized rectangular-frame glasses magnifying large eyes on a small face. She hasn't uttered a single word, and Belinda hasn't introduced her, but that hasn't stopped the woman from staring at me like an owl sitting on a branch. Not many people can make me uncomfortable. This one? I'm resisting the urge to squirm. "As one of you is well aware, and one of you is painfully oblivious about"-Belinda cuts a glance at me-"in addition to your roles running departments at this hotel, you are expected to network and sell Mermaid Beach as a prime location for multiday large-scale events. These events are critical to our success. The meeting room bookings and catering tabs that come with events are substantial, as you can see." She gestures at our open tablets in front of us. I scan the file that lists our various rates and whistle. "Twenty-five grand for a coffee station? Jesus, what are we serving? Do animals shit out these beans?" I watched a documentary on kopi luwak. No, thank you. Owl Girl's jaw drops. "Eloquent as always, Ronan," Belinda murmurs. "Beverage stations are just the tip of the iceberg. The more we bill, the more profit we make, and Henry has set steep targets for us. Some say too steep," she adds under her breath, and I hazard that some is her. "But regardless, we are expected to aim for it. All this is to say that the Events department is an invaluable partner for us, which is why Eleanor here"-she gestures to the stranger in the room-"reports both directly to me as well as into head office. She is our boots on the ground to ensure every event operates without a hitch. She has her own team of coordinators. Eleanor, you know Lena. This is Ronan." Right, Eleanor from Events. I remember seeing that name in the org charts now, as well as a few emails about the first golf tournament. I smile at her. She averts her soul-searing gaze. "Eleanor and her team have been working very closely with me for the media open, but they are neck-deep in planning events. Expect to receive weekly updates and regular meeting requests from her going forward." Can't wait. "Now, before Eleanor begins highlighting our upcoming events, I want to talk about the President's Club. Again, this is more for you, Ronan." She strolls by, enjoying every moment of my ignorance and her ability to remind me of it in front of others. "Each year, total profit dollars earned from contracts are tallied, and the general manager with the highest numbers wins." Her hands curl around the headrest of a leather chair as she turns to face us. "I expect to win." "And what do you win?" I ask. "Cash bonuses, jewelry, an exotic trip. One time was a two-week stay in Bali and this." She taps the face of her diamond-encrusted watch. "Another time, it was a luxury cruise." It's clear Belinda is a frequent flyer of this President's Club. Not surprising, given how much Henry relies on her. "So, let me get this straight. Lena and I bust our asses to sign these contracts, and you reap the rewards?" "What can I say, perks of being the general manager." Belinda studies her nails. "Directors are also suitably rewarded." "With what?" "Hotel vouchers and bonuses." She shrugs. "That sort of thing." I was already in a bad mood coming into this meeting, but now I'm annoyed. No one told me I'd have to be a salesman to line Henry's gold pockets. "Well, it sounds like this GrayStone contract has guaranteed your club seat." I lean back in my chair, making a point of stretching out my thighs. "I'd prefer the cash bonus, thanks. How about you, Lena?" "Always a fan of cash." She's enjoying watching me hang myself with our boss. Belinda sneers at my leisurely position. "These meetings you have lined up over the next few days? All this prep work you've been doing to ingratiate yourself with our special guests? I expect results." "Kissing ass is not one of my strong suits, if you haven't noticed yet." Now I'm just poking the bear. But, fuck it, Henry's going to fire me anyway once I walk into dinner with Sloane tonight. Our tablets chirp with an incoming email from Mindy. Belinda stares at me for a lengthy moment before peeling away. "You may begin, Eleanor." At the sound of her name, the owlish events manager begins rhyming off events and projections like a programmed computer. All the while, Belinda's eyes bore into me. "Stay back a moment, please, Ronan," Belinda beckons in a clipped tone. I sink back into my chair as the ladies leave. I should have known I wouldn't get away that easily after being a dick. Belinda saunters over to shut the door behind them. "Okay, what the fuck has gotten into you today?" It's more about what I've gotten into. Or who I've gotten into. "I had a shitty sleep," I say instead. "I was up early." "Yes, I heard you dragged our pro out on the course." I sigh. "Okay, give me whatever lecture you're dying to give." "Who says I'm going to lecture you?" "Because I recognize that tone, I've heard it so many times before. You want to make me feel like a complete idiot, so go ahead. Let's have it." Instead of retaking her chair, she settles onto the boardroom table, her ankle brushing my knee as she crosses her legs. That skirt of hers is climbing dangerously high. This undoubtedly breaks an HR rule or five. Then again, we broke all those rules and then some in Wolf Cove two years ago. "I haven't spent hours training you only for you to fall apart during one of the most important weeks of the year," she says calmly. "You haven't trained me to be a fucking salesperson." "Is that why you're in such a little snit?" She studies my face. "You have exceeded my expectations up until now. The sky is the limit for you at Wolf if you apply yourself." "You mean, if I earn you diamonds and vacations." "And cash bonuses, don't forget those," she quips, sliding her glasses off to set them on the table beside her. It's a rare sight when she doesn't wear those. Guilt tickles my conscience. I'm giving her a hard time, and there's no good reason. With a sigh, I point at my tablet, abandoned on the table. "Do I have to memorize all those price lists and shit before tomorrow too?" She laughs. "No. That's nitty-gritty stuff. That's for Eleanor and her team to iron out. We focus on impressing upon these people the benefits of hosting their events at Wolf Hotels. You are selling a partnership. A relationship." "And these meetings I have over the next few days are all with women because you expect me to do what as part of selling this relationship?" "I know what you're insinuating, and don't be silly. That is definitely not part of your job description." She rolls her eyes. "You're meeting with Olivia McEowan from Black Titan." "Oil and gas." "Yes. She has been a white whale for Wolf Hotels. When her father was alive, the company's corporate events were held at Wolf. Since she's taken over, she's axed the budgets by more than half. Wolf hasn't hosted them at any of our locations in nine years. We used to make almost as much with them as we've secured with GrayStone." I whistle. "That must hurt." "It does. Convince her to choose us again." "How am I supposed to do that?" "Be yourself. But with your pants on." I arch an eyebrow. "Come on. If you can convince Jacob Farnsworth to suck Will Darling's dick, you can do anything you set your mind to." The reference to that night in Alaska is so unexpected I burst out laughing. "Hey, I didn't convince anyone to do anything. And that match-up was Connor's idea." "Funny, I recall your little fuck club being a joint effort," she counters smoothly. I shrug. Everyone who stepped into the pitch-black cabin knew there was a chance they could be partnered with a member of the same team. No one forced them. Obviously, they had questions, and our twisted little game was a safe way to get their answers. "For what it's worth, Farnsworth discovered something important about himself that night. Last I heard, he was living with a guy in New York." Which is a far cry from his days growing up Mormon in Utah. "I'm not surprised. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely that night, from the eyeful I caught." I chuckle. What a night for the security team and Belinda to bust up our after-hours entertainment. "I have to say, this is a far better version of you than the one in the meeting." "Sorry," I mumble. "I was being a dick." She studies her painted nails for a beat. "What were you and Henry arguing about yesterday morning?" "Nothing." She cocks her head. "You expect me to believe that?" "Why? What'd he tell you?" "Absolutely nothing." "Like I said, then." Belinda's going to find out soon enough, and when she does, she's going to want to skin me alive. Is that what all this building tension in my shoulders is about? Me knowing I'm likely about to fuck everything up in my life over a woman, and yet I'm diving headfirst into shallow waters? "Just under a lot of pressure these days to do the right thing." In so many ways. Like, the right thing to do is warn Sloane about what's coming, but I'm a coward. It's not even the confidentiality agreement I signed that I care about. It's Sloane punishing me for my association. "Yes, I can sympathize. Hotel openings are always very stressful, even if you're not new." She pauses. "There are ways to help manage that stress, though." "Like what?" She makes a point of slowly uncrossing and recrossing her legs, but not before giving me a clear view up her skirt and the lack of panties. My chest rises with my deep inhale. Her meaning could not be clearer, and this is crossing into very dangerous territory. How the fuck do I get out of it? "This might be against the rules." It's definitely against the rules, not that I've ever cared. "And when have you ever been concerned about that?" she says, echoing my thoughts. "You certainly didn't that day at the old Wolf cabin." I didn't care about a lot of things during my time in Wolf Cove, and that day will go down in history as one of the most unexpected fucks of my life. "I know who will care. Your boss." "Right." She leans back, holding herself up with outstretched arms. "Should we ask him for his blessing? Sure, maybe after he's done fucking his former assistant who's now his wife." Touché. Though Henry is a fan of playing the "do as I say, not as I do" card. "Didn't you say this would never happen again?" I'm grasping for straws, but reminding her of her deep regrets the last time her hormones got past her level head seems like a good idea. "I didn't think it would either, and yet here we are." Something soft flickers across Belinda's normally stony face. "In case you haven't noticed, I work a lot. I don't have time for relationships. But I do have needs. And so do you." Steady eyes bore into mine. "So why don't we just fuck and get it out of our system." Hell, she's throwing back my words from yesterday. Belinda uncrosses her legs again, this time leaving them parted. Fuck me. How do I find myself in these situations? Honestly, this is probably karma coming around to bite me in the ass for all the women I haven't called back, even though I was always clear that I wouldn't. If I were the old Ronan, I'd already have my fly undone and Belinda's skirt hiked up around her waist. But I'm not that guy. I don't want meaningless. Not anymore. There is only one woman I want. And it's not the one laid out like a buffet treat in front of me now. Acknowledging that nearly brings a smile to my face-I've evolved!-but I stifle it because that reaction at this particular moment might get my balls ripped off. I need to get out of here, pronto. "Belinda, don't get me wrong, I think you are smoking hot." I settle my hands on her bare knees and gently pull her legs together. "But we should keep this professional." I stand as a wave of déjà vu hits me. I said the same thing to Sloane weeks ago. That was a lie then. But it's not now. A stunned look passes across Belinda's face-has she ever been turned down before?-before she seems to snap out of it. "Yes, of course. I don't know what I was thinking. This was completely out of line. I understand if you'd like to report me to HR for⁠-" "Shut up." I can't help but laugh. "I'm not reporting anyone for anything." I'd have to pull out my own laundry list of scandalous behavior. It's a mile long and would get me fired a hundred times over. She clears her throat as she quickly retrieves her glasses. "Okay, then." I try to soften the blow to her ego. "If this were any other time in my life, I would be all in. Again." Hell, if this were even a few weeks ago, before I met Sloane. I'd regret it after, but I know I wouldn't turn her down. I'm not Superman. She purses her lips, her eyes flittering up to meet mine. "Let me know if you change your mind." "I will." But I won't. Not while Sloane's in the picture. "I'll see you at dinner tonight." Clearing her throat, she hops off the table and struts away at a clipped speed, unlocking the door on her way out. And I breathe a shaky sigh of relief. "You said no?" Connor stares at me like I just admitted to ripping up a winning lottery ticket. "Dude." I push my office door shut. "She Basic Instincted me." His jaw drops. "No fucking way." "Way. Like, fully." "What does that mean?" a voice chirps out of nowhere. I spin around to find Archie sitting in one of my chairs. "Where the fuck were you hiding!" "I wasn't ... I was right here, waiting. For our meeting," he stammers. I hadn't noticed him. I left the meeting and saw Connor standing at my door, so I yanked him in and downloaded on him in a hurry, and fuck, I didn't notice Archie there. I know how gossip works around here. This would be terrible for Belinda if it got out. "Listen to me carefully." I aim an index finger at his face. "You never repeat a single thing you just heard in here. Not to anyone. Not even to Gizmo, do you understand?" There's only one picture on Archie's desk, and it's of a cat whose hair is as orange as his owner's. "I didn't hear anything." He shakes his head furiously. "Good." "Wait, but how does Gingersnap not know what getting Basic Instincted means? How old are you?" Connor waves his hand. "Actually, never mind. I don't care if you came out of the fucking womb two weeks ago, everyone should understand what that means. Sharon Stone is a rite of passage. In fact, you're gonna watch that movie tonight. I expect a full report by tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.!" "Okay, settle down, Professor." I take a deep, calming breath. "Archie, give me five before our meeting. Do me a favor and go find Eleanor from Events. Tell her I'm bringing two people with me to dinner so she can plan accordingly." "Got it." With a cagey look at Connor-who is easily twice his size-Archie scurries out, shutting the door behind him. "What dinner?" Connor asks the moment he's gone. "The one you're coming to with me. It's here, tonight." "Seriously? Why didn't you tell me?" "I did. You forgot," I lie. If I counted on my hands the number of times he's left me in the dark about plans he's made for us, I'd run out of fingers, several times over. Payback's a bitch. "Wear something nice. Abbi'll be there." That distracts him. "I haven't seen her in forever. How's the, uh-" He holds his hands out in front of his belly. "Growing." "Damn." He smiles wistfully, and I know he's thinking about that day in the truck. "Who else are you bringing?" "Sloane." I hope. "Neighbor girl?" He frowns. "She and Henry good now?" "Nope. He doesn't know I'm bringing her." "But he's gonna be there." "Yup." His frown deepens. "What the fuck are you up to, Lyle?" "Honestly, I'm not sure. It's a long story that I don't have the time to get into, but I'm bringing Sloane, and they're going to meet her, and Abbi's gonna love her." I hope. And then I'm going to ride in like a white knight and derail Henry's capitalistic dreams, even though the woman still has no clue about any of it. "So ... I should pack my bags and get ready to head back to Miami, then?" Connor muses wryly. "Maybe, but not yet." "For the record, you're fucking nuts." "I probably am," I agree. "And have you thought about what Belinda is gonna do?" "She'll defer to Henry, and I have Abbi to help me with him." Belinda's devoted to a fault. If Henry maintains his cool over Sloane, she won't attack. "Dude, forget about that. What about what just happened over there?" He tosses an aimless thumb toward the hall beyond my door. "Belinda's not looking for a relationship. She has an itch she needs scratching, and I was an easy option." At least, she thought I was, and probably for good reason-because I usually am. Connor looks at me like I'm about to jump into alligator-infested waters. "You rejected Belinda, and now you're about to stroll in with another woman. A younger woman." "Who she despises. Shit." I'm beginning to see where Connor is going with this, and he's right-Belinda will have the nuclear codes at the ready and aimed at me. Or worse, Sloane. "Okay, I need you to do something for me." "What?" "Belinda." He barks with laughter. "Yeah, right. Funny guy." When he notices I'm not laughing along, his mirth fades. "Oh, you're serious." "Yeah." "You want me to scratch Belinda's itch?" "I want you to see if she's willing to let you scratch it." There were three of us in that cabin room that day, and she didn't seem to have a preference. "But do it discreetly." He groans. "Fine, but if I get fired for this, you better fix it." "Fine." If I'm not already fired for showing up with Sloane. But I'm banking on Abbi not allowing that to happen. "Just be you. If she hasn't sacked you for that yet, she won't." He drops a meaty hand on my shoulder. "The things I do for our friendship." "Yeah, you're really hard done by." "I really am. And, you know, I was thinking earlier about what Mermaid Beach is missing. Something that would solve problems like this." "This oughta be good," I mutter. "The first rule of fuck club is ..." Despite everything, I laugh. "You idiot." I weave my sleek black car up the pothole-riddled driveway. It's five minutes to six, and my palms are sweating. I haven't been nervous to meet a girl since ... I can't remember when. But Sloane never responded to my text, and I have no idea what's waiting for me here. I don't know if she's playing hard to get or avoiding me. I pray it's the former. I'm up for a good chase. Her Cherokee is here. That's a good sign. So is Frank's pickup. I park next to it and climb out, adjusting the collar of a clean dress shirt. I go through at least two a day in this heat. The hens are busy grazing on feed in their coop, but Ralph wanders nearby, watching with those beady little bird eyes. "Not today, motherfucker." I pull out the carrot I sent Archie to grab from the hotel kitchen, snapping it up into bits and tossing them toward the trailers-and away from my freshly washed hood. He scuttles after the bright orange chunks. The sound of a door creaking draws my attention to the house and the figure standing on the porch. Damn. All I can do is stare. For too long, I guess, because Sloane starts to fidget. "Does this work for your dinner thing?" Her toned arm stretches as she pinches the skirt, drawing the gauzy pink material away from her body. I can't decide where to look first-on the slit that shows off her shapely legs, the plunging neckline that hints at those perky breasts, her delicate shoulders, the tendrils of ash-blond hair that cascade down her back in loose curls. Finally, I land on her mesmerizing face. "You match the hotel color scheme." The fuck if I know if that's the right shade of pink, and that was probably a stupid thing to say. She falters. "That wasn't my goal." Yup. Stupid. "You're perfect." She's more than perfect. She's a vision. Her eyes drift over my midnight-blue shirt and gray pants-tailored to my body as everything in my closet is quickly becoming-but she doesn't say anything. "If I step away from my car, will he shit on it?" He's halfway through his treats. "Fifty-fifty chance." "I guess I'll risk it." I close the distance to the porch as Sloane slides her purse strap over her shoulder and takes the steep set of stairs down in delicate gold sandals that show off dainty feet. Even her feet are sexy. Her back is bare save for two thin dress straps that crisscross down. There's so much exposed skin, and my fingers itch to touch every square inch of it. "Where is everyone?" "Frank's out for a swim. No one else is home yet." I'm two feet away when I catch the first waft of her perfume. I inhale deeply. "God, you smell good." I step in closer and inhale again. "What is that?" It's like salty ocean air mixed with a spicy floral. It's intoxicating, but everything about Sloane makes my blood roil. "Just a perfume from Gigi." She lifts her chin in defiance. "So we're clear, we're not having sex tonight." I school my expression. "Okay." "I mean it, Ronan." "So do I. And honestly, it's probably the best thing I've heard all day." Between Abbi and her pastries and Belinda ambushing me, eliminating sex from the equation is smart. If I have to deal with my frustrations in the shower later, so be it. Sloane's curious frown has me chuckling. "Long story, and you don't want to hear the details. I'm just happy you showed up. I expected to find you in a bikini again." "I was considering it." "And I was getting ready to beg." "Wait. You said 'convince' yesterday. But if watching you beg is an option, I'll be back in a sec. I just need to change ..." She takes a step back, up one stair, putting her at eye level with me. I slide my hand around her nape, keeping her in place. Silky strands of hair tickle my fingers. "We don't have time for games now, but I'll be happy to play later." Though I'll be the one helping her get this dress off. Soulful jade eyes peer into mine. A heavy, worried look clung to them yesterday. Now ... I'm not sure what I'm seeing there. "Better day today?" I whisper. "I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know." Her gaze drops downward, to my mouth. I can't hold back any longer. I lean in and kiss her, first tentatively, my lips grazing hers, the tip of my tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, tasting a hint of cherry from her lip gloss. But the second she responds, I deepen it, sliding my tongue against hers in a slow-moving, intimate dance. Screw Henry's dinner party and my obligations; I could stand here all night, doing this. A dull thud sounds, breaking us apart. Her throat bobs with a hard swallow. "That was my purse." "I'll get it." I stoop down to collect the woven box before she can flinch a muscle, stalling on a sublime view of the sexy slit in her dress. It's high-higher than I realized, reaching almost to her hip. It would take no effort to lean in and bury my face between her thighs right here. Fuck me. I've changed, but not that much. This is going to be too tempting to ignore. Her breathing is a touch ragged when I get to my feet and slide the purse strap over her shoulder. "I really like this dress." "Good." She clears her throat. "It's staying on me tonight." "As it should." I can easily work my way under it. Her eyes narrow a touch, like she doesn't believe me. "Right. Well ... we better go. Ralph's almost out of carrots." "I have more if needed." I slip my arm around her back as we walk to the car. This feels right. This feels good. Henry Wolf is not fucking this up for me. 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