“The penthouse?” I ask.
He smirks. “Winning the Super Bowl has its perks.”
When we reach the top floor, all the lights are turned off. Dexter moves to switch one on, but I stop him. What I need is water, Tylenol, and sleep. I have no idea how I’ll look in the light and am terrified if Dexter sees me right now, he might kick me out with nowhere to go.
“No,” I say, “I just want to go to sleep if that's alright?”
"Of course," he nods and leads me towards the side of the space into one of the bedrooms. “You can sleep in here tonight. Feel free to lock the door if you’re scared, I’m going to come in here,” he grins playfully, and though he’s virtually a stranger, I feel oddly safe staying here alone with him.
“Thanks again for tonight. It was nice to celebrate, but I’m reallylooking forward to hearing about this big secret you need help with when the morning arrives.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll talk after you sober up. Goodnight, Mae.” He closes the door gently behind me as I flop on to the bed, face down, without even undressing. I’m so exhausted and drunk, my whole body hurts from the night I’ve had and instantly I fall asleep.
By the time I wake up the next morning it’s almost nine o’clock.
“Shit,” I shriek, realizing I’ve slept in. I sit up and rub my eyes while checking my phone. There are no text messages from Sienna, so I punch in her number quickly, my heart racing.
“Hey babe, you alright?” she answers on the second ring, her voice calm and I instantly feel relief wash over me.
“I am. I’m so sorry I didn’t make it home last night.”
She laughs easily like it’s no problem and this is why I know I’ll owe her for life. No matter what Dexter has to offer, I’m bringing Sienna with me. “Don’t worry about it. Did the bossman have you working until now? That’s a bit extreme, even for him, don’t you think?”
I rake a finger through my dark blonde curls. They catch way too easily which tells me just how knotted my hair is. I feel disgusting. I need a shower and a good brush of my teeth. “No, it’s a long story, but I’ll tell you when I get home. Is there any chance you can stay there with Elsie for a little longer? Like another two hours?”
“Of course! We’re making pancakes and then planning on going to the park. Take all the time you need.”
We say our goodbyes, and I let out a breath of relief. I never spend time away from Elsie—not more than necessary, anyway. Our mornings and days are spent together to avoid daycare costs, and my nights are at work, four days a week, where Sienna steps in like the saint she is, handling dinner and bedtime when I can’t be there. It’s the only way I’ve managed to keep things together,and not miss out on only a few hours of her life before she falls asleep at night. I know I owe it all to her generosity.
Someday, I’ll pay her back.
With that thought anchoring me, I run my fingers through my hair, tugging out the tangles as best I can, then smooth down my Cypress Palace uniform, the fabric still clinging to me after hours of work, drinking and dancing last night. I glance at my reflection in the mirror and cringe. My mascara is smudged, leaving me looking more like a raccoon than someone about to discuss a mysterious job offer. I grab a tissue and swipe at the streaks until I look somewhat presentable. Not that it matters much I still feel a wreck.
Satisfied—or at least resigned—I head out into the suite’s living room, my bare feet slapping softly against the marble floor. Dexter’s already awake, sprawled across the oversized C-shaped couch like he owns the place because well, maybe he does.
The TV is on, tuned to a news channel replaying highlights from his team’s Super Bowl win. There’s a faint smile on his face, his hand idly resting on his chest. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a fitted white T-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin, showcasing his chiseled abs and broad shoulders.
My gaze flickers down—unintentionally, I swear—and catches on the undeniable outline of his cock pressing against his sweatpants. Heat rushes to my face, and I immediately snap my eyes back up, focusing on the screen as if my life depends on it.
Oh...
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he calls without looking up. "How are you feeling today?"
"Like shit." I plop down on the couch a healthy distance away from him, tucking my legs underneath my butt. “I never drink anymore.”
I’m sure I look even more of a mess in the daylight that’s streaming through the massive floor to ceiling windows in hissuite, but I’m not here to impress Dexter. I've quit my job, spent the night away from my daughter, and am now on borrowed time before I need to get back home to her and resume myreal life. I’m here to find out if he’s serious about the job he has for me or if I’ve just jeopardized my only source of income and need to go beg Frank for my position back.
Under different circumstances, I might have been intimidated—sitting next to the Miami Waves’ quarterback, tall, handsome, and brooding, a multimillionaire known among women for being very well endowed and very generous. I should probably be swooning, but instead, I’m a bottle full of nerves.
“Okay, so tell me about this job you need help with,” I say, trying to cut straight to business.
“Can we at least have breakfast first?” He gestures to the table in front of him, filled with some of the most delectable room service items I’ve ever seen. Croissants, doughnuts, and loads of exotic looking fruit dot the tray. My stomach growls on command as I grab a banana, tear it open aggressively, and take a big bite. I’m taking a to-go box of this stuff home for Sienna and Elsie when we’re doing here.
“See, I’m eating. Now talk. I don’t have a lot of time.”
His eyes drop to my lips as he watches me chew. I can tell, even in my deranged and very hungover state, he’s thinking about a different banana being in my mouth and truthfully, so am I.
“Don’t get sidetracked,” I say, pointing the banana directly in his face.
