What a jerk. “I have… does it matter?” Damn it, he sees through me. My understanding of the sport could probably be improved, but I don’t write about hockey, so who cares.
“Mr. Madden, your room is ready. Would you like a welcome cookie?” Stuart offers him a wide smile.
Stone gives him a neutral glance. “Nah, it’s okay.”
“How’s your brother and the baby?” Stuart asks, as if they are now suddenly old friends.
Stone gets comfortable again, leaning against the reception desk. “Great, thanks for asking. Vaughn is busy on the road now that hockey season has started. Isla and the baby are doing well. She’s the cutest kid too.”
“Go, Spinners hockey.” Stuart gives a little fist pump in the air.
Are we for real?
I wave my hands between them. “Yoo-hoo, tourist here waiting for my room. What kind of welcome to Lake Spark is this? You’re treating him like he’s some kind of royalty.” I jerk my thumb at Stone. My annoyance is about to blow sky high.
“Oh, Ms. Jelly, don’t worry. I ensured you got a corner room near the squirrel garden. There is also a fruit basket and local treats from the town too, not to mention a Spinners t-shirt. Welcome cookie?” Stuart gives me an overdone, albeit sincere smile as he magically holds up a basket of cookies from behind the desk.
Great. Squirrels and carbs.
“Lovely.” I’m not at all serious.
Gah, I hate that he said my legal last name.
“Yeah, I would change my real name to a cocktail garnish too.” Stone chuckles under his breath, and that deep sound causes something inside my belly to flicker. What the hell?
“See you at the afternoon session, Harlow. Let me guess, you’re going to go curl your hair and freshen your makeup.” His eyes draw a line up and down, assessing me, and his eyes on me feels like a sin.
Still, I stay strong and point a finger at him. “You are a judgmental jerk. Shouldn’t you be on the ice playing hockey or drinking a protein shake or something? I’m sure your ability to think is the size of a puck.”
A short chortle escapes him. “Aren’t you a cute little fiery thing. See ya, firefly.” He walks away with a swagger that irritates me because my eyes linger a little longer than they should on his exit.
“Are you sure you wouldn't like a cookie?” Stuart breaks my attention, and I glare at him.
This is going to be a long retreat.
* * *
I’ll show him.
Stone Madden will be proven wrong with his critical accusations.
Staring in the mirror of my room, I double-check my black yoga pants with a dark olive-green sweater with matching converse shoes with olive-green sparkles. The memo for the afternoon instructed us to arrive in comfortable clothing for the welcome session. I fluff my hair and begin to leave my room but stop abruptly and lean half of my body back to catch one more glance at my appearance and decide that despite my makeup mostly being off, that maybe I should throw on a little highlighter on my cheeks and smear on lip balm. It’s not clear why that hunch hits me, as if I need to impress someone.
By the time I’m down in the conference room, a small group is scattered around the place. A few people are already sitting on the circle of chairs, and a few are perusing the snack table off to the side.
I decide water is a great start and head straight for the table, saving introductions to the group for after I’m hydrated. Truthfully, this retreat is kind of what I need. My writing nights are sometimes consumed by a mix of distraction and a flinch inside of me that I still can’t seem to escape. Sleep isn’t for me.
Grabbing my bottle, I notice someone in my peripheral vision, studying me.
“Wow, does it hurt not to be in heels?”
Ugh, the guy who pretends to be an author graces me with his presence.
I bark a laugh as I turn in his direction. “I don’t know. Does it hurt not to be in a room where your sweltering gaze distracts the world?” Oh shit, why did that roll off my tongue? Subconscious hell is hitting me earlier than normal today.
Stone’s brows raise a smidgen, and his lips stretch into a line of satisfaction. “Natural looks are natural looks. Something you hide behind your alter ego.”
“Are you saying I have natural looks?” I’m wary yet slightly honored.
