Bianca gave me a look of mild disbelief and stood up. “All right, let’s just head over to the smaller conference room across the lobby for the photo shoot, shall we? The lighting here is terrible.”
I stood up and walked out of the room just as Bianca trailed me with a quick word to her cameraman to follow suit. In the distance, I could see Desmond standing in the lobby. At the exact same spot where I’d left him fifty minutes ago.
I closed my eyes in exasperation. Good grief. The guy might as well have been holding out a sign that readI’m sleeping with Ava Halefor all the blatant clues he was giving away.
It was plenty clear that he had his sights on me so I walked across the room in his direction.
Desmond crossed his arms, and his eyes hardened as he focused on the prim journalist who breathlessly slid up to walk on my left.
“Ah, I see you’re ready for the photo shoot we had planned with you and Ms. Hale,” she said just as we came to a stop in front of Desmond.
Desmond looked over his shoulder, and I could see past him. A photographer, a light man, and a set-piece person stood behind Desmond, cameras and tripods in hand. My attention flicked back to Desmond, who looked like he was definitely not inclined to do this random photo shoot.
“It’s not happening,” he said.
“We need pictures to go along with the article,” Bianca announced with a bright smile. “And what’s better than the CEO standing by his people?”
Desmond looked between me and her, his jaw working, “No,” he said, his voice a low growl.
I’d bet that was the tone that tipped Bianca off. Because her next question was aimed directly at me.
“Now, Ms. Hale,” Bianca began conversationally, “before we part ways, do you want to tell me about the party at an opulent Upper East Side mansion, where you were seen arriving with a gentleman named Rishi Chopra?” she asked.
My cheeks burned at the question. I knew what she was trying to insinuate here.
Desmond answered for me, “Ms. Hale’s personal life is not under question here.”
I saw the cameraman flinch as he tried to pretend not to have heard the snub, and the eyes of the other two assistants moved to Bianca, who only smiled effortlessly in response. Her skin had probably been made in the same factory that produced bulletproof vests.
“Ah, no discussing Ms. Hale’s romances, I see.” She leaned back.
She looked at Desmond for one quick, measuring second before turning to me.
Bianca’s eyes were shrewd. “Then, Ava, do you have any concerns about talking to us about a kiss you shared with Otto at reception on the day you joined Luxe Hotels?”
I looked up, startled at the ridiculous allegation, but Bianca was now looking at Desmond.
“Surely, we’d be okay to discuss that? I’m intrigued since we all know Luxe Hotels’ stance on workplace relationships,” she said.
I turned slightly to Desmond, who hadn’t been able to rearrange his features to look unaffected quickly enough. He let slip a glance at me, and he looked shaken.
Vulnerable.
“Bingo,” Bianca muttered softly, while my blood curdled.
There had been no kiss, but denying it would just add fuel to her line of questioning. Not denying it was making Desmond look like … well, less like the Desmond I knew and more like a lost soul on the Day of the Dead.
“Ms. Rutherford”—I smiled at her, assuming the confidence that Desmond had initially shown—“I think that’s a perfect cliff-hanger to end your interview piece with. Who have I kissed, and who have I not? The readers who care will be hooked for life. Now, I need to leave. Going by the line that’s currently stretching out to the front door, the café is severely understaffed.”
As Desmond stepped back, he ran his fingers through his carefully groomed hair. The messy look was making him look even cuter. What a pity that I couldn’t tell him that.
“Well, it’s a shame that The Galley won’t be reopening again,” Bianca said, watching us. “Though I’m sure the new Luxe Hotel will be a great success at that location.”
What?
“Bye!” she called just as Desmond and I locked eyes.
“Is Bianca right?” I muttered under my breath as I took a step forward with Desmond.
