Brooks chuckled as we made it to the central staircase that led dramatically to the lobby below. After the first step, he let go of me, and we started down together, with his cane tapping out a light rhythm ahead of him. The cut-crystal chandeliers overhead gleamed and sunshine spilled in through the glass doors at the front, which highlighted the marble flooring shot through with swirls of gold veins. I knew no one else would think the stonework was dirty, but I did. It desperately needed to be cleaned after all the foot traffic from the auction last night.
To my right, the dark wood of the service desk gleamed, but the lamp on top of it was switched off, which I hated. The light should always be on. It was early, but Patton perched there on a chair with his back straight. He gave me a wave I ignored. Decorative stone pillars soared upward to meet the ceiling at intervals and broke apart the space in an imitation of a classical colonnade, and between the supports the red couches had been moved around. Guests insisted on dragging the furniture wherever they wanted it in order to sit with friends, and no one on the staff had put things back where they belonged. The entire hotel was a disgusting wreck, and no one had cared to fix it.
He tucked his cane under his arm and found my hand. I couldn’t help myself; I gave him a squeeze. “Why are you so tense, Darcy?”
Fuck you, that’s why.“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I led him all the way to the front doors and outside into the fresh morning sun. Mr. Arora, a stately older gentleman with silver hair and a penchant for Hawaiian shirts, and who also owned a local chain of bakeries, bounded up the steps and gave me a nod as he hurried inside. “I’m late,” he said with a laugh. I rolled my eyes when he was past us. The summer heat had sweat dotting my skin almost immediately. My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to say goodbye.
Brooks turned his face to the sun and smiled. “So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening. What’s good? Six?”
My stomach bounced back where it belonged, and I whirled to face him. “I said I couldn’t!”
His smile tilted crooked and the bastard winked. “I heard you—but be ready. By six.”
“I will not.” Birds chirped in the willow trees farther away from us on the lawn. Somewhere in the distance a car alarm sounded. There were a thousand small everyday things happening around us, but everything should have come to a screeching halt to witness this outrageousness. “I absolutely cannot.”
“I’ll be here, so you better.”
He tugged lightly on my hand with a grin, and I turned to point at him but stopped when I came within an inch of jabbing his chest. “I said I can’t.”
“Exactly. At no point did you say you didn’twantto go out, and I want this.” He stepped close and slid his hand around my waist. He didn’t even look sorry as he kept going and squeezed my ass. I closed my eyes, cheeks burning. Heat tightened my groin, and my cock took an immediate interest, plumping in my underwear. I cleared my throat but had no retort ready.
A red Lexus pulled up that must have been waiting for Brooks because it stopped and no one got out of the back. A tall man with jet-black hair and a thin model-pretty face climbed out of the driver’s side to sneer in my direction. His pink lips rolled back from white teeth in a grimace, as if he’d caught Brooks stepping in something foul. My hackles rose immediately. While Brooks might not have an issue with the Courtesan and partaking of its pleasures, clearly his staff had other ideas about it—and me.
“Sir?” the man said, still staring at me like I was dirt. He didn’t even care that I was noting his rudeness.
“Oh, Levi, good. Until tomorrow.” Brooks stepped in and planted a kiss on my cheek, then let me go to turn and head to the car. He brought his cane down from where he’d had it tucked under his arm, and between that and Lemonade, he made it directly to the rear door without issue.
“I really can’t,” I called after him, feeling hopeless.
Levi wrinkled his nose at me as he rushed around the car and opened the door for Brooks. “Sir, I have your messages. Would you like to hear them as we drive?”
Brooks said something to him and nodded. I watched him get into the back of the Lexus, and in spite of what he’d said, I was certain I wouldn’t see him again—at least, not for me. Maybe he would visit one of the other men who worked here because I wouldn’t be available. I stood there and watched as Brooks was driven away and stayed rooted to the spot. What would it be like to just leave and go somewhere to relax with him?
Mr. Purtle came toward the door, and I’d always liked him. He was another older gentleman, well past eighty, and he swore his longevity was shored up by three visits to the Courtesan a week. He’d told me once it would help him live to be a hundred and fifteen. “Is Felicity working?” He gave me a wink, and I was relieved to see he’d trimmed his nose hairs. She’d told me she flat out refused to see him again if he didn’t.
“Yes, sir. Please, allow me to check her schedule for you. This way?” I opened the door for him and followed him inside, smacked in the face by the gallon of Old Spice he must have doused himself in. Felicity might complain, but he always paid her triple what anyone else did, and that was the name of the game here at the Courtesan—cash.
Work was where I needed to focus. Brooks, and everything he represented—life outside of the glittering world I controlled—was an illusion. Smoke and mirrors. Mr. Purtle’s needs were the here and now. With a sigh, I glanced back for one last look at where Brooks’ car had disappeared out of sight.
* * *
Sunday was uneventful—other than Brooks’ seizure—but those types of tranquil streaks were rare at the Courtesan. My Monday started out as they typically did—irritating and awful.
Mischa was pregnant and keeping the baby. The news was a nightmare because she was the only natural redhead of the female variety we had on staff, and she didn’t shave her pubic hair. A shocking number of people requested her based on that alone. I’d have to find a replacement—which was callous, but my problem. The impending arrival was hers.
Not only that, but Mischa was moving out, too. Mother had come down hard on the side of supporting her choice, even though half the workers in the Courtesan had tried to talk Mischa out of the baby adventure. Unfortunately, seeing Mother so firmly support Mischa’s choice was having the opposite effect of what she might have hoped—it was worrying people. None of our professionals who owned a uterus wanted to get pregnant with a john’s baby, and this was a reminder that sometimes, in spite of all precautions, these things did happen. I’d had a visit from almost everyone, just making sure Mother wasn’t kicking Mischa out.
“No, no, Mother is helping her find an apartment,” I told Romeo, though why he was worried I couldn’t say. His fresh cologne drifted between us, spicy and slightly floral. A worry line marred his forehead and for once his ever-present smile was nowhere to be seen. His black hair was damp and combed straight back as if he’d showered minutes ago, which he might have, and his white T-shirt clung to his muscled chest. Irritation had me clutching at the edge of the service desk as I leaned some of my weight on it. It wasn’t as if he could have a baby.
Romeo rested his elbows on the desk and cracked the bright purple gum he was chewing. I held the bridge of my nose and squeezed, then sighed to myself as I saw Anna Maria sneaking up behind him with a worried wrinkle on her brow. I knew she wanted to ask the same thing. I didn’t give her time to open her mouth, simply started my explanations all over again as Romeo moved away from the desk to go escort his next appointment upstairs from the bar.
By five I’d talked to all of the professionals—Romeo twice, just because he liked to come flirt with me in his free time—and then Marco, the gangly boy who ran errands around the hotel, came to snag my elbow while I was in the ballroom putting out pink tablecloths for an upcoming wedding reception. The stage from the auction was in the process of being disassembled by a local crew who often did repairs for us. I stared anxiously at the mess in progress.
Marco’s tan, skinny face was flushed from running to reach me, and his deep brown eyes sparkled with happiness that nothing I ever said seemed to dampen.
“What?” I asked and felt bad as his expression fell a tad. He let go of me right away.
