Page 87 of Never Till Now

“Uncle Adam!” they cheer.

“I miss you guys. Mallory, how is school going?”

“Ugh, well, you know Julien Beaumont is in my class again.” She rolls her eyes. “That boy seriously thinks he’s better than me because of his last name.” I smirk, knowing the Beaumont’s prestigious snobbery from owning most nightclubs around the States. “I’ll show him who is boss during our business week.”

“Business week?” I miss the way Mallory talks on a professional level at times, though I never know if it’s reality or the scenario she’s made up in her mind.

“We have a class project to come up with a business plan and invent something. It sucks because my enemy is my PARTNER!” She exaggerates by throwing her hands in the air. “Can you believe the audacity of my teacher pairing me with him? She knows how much we bicker.”

“Oh, Mallory. Sadly, you don’t always have a choice when it comes to business.” We talk for a few more minutes before Kelsie takes the phone.

“How are things going on your end?” she asks, biting her lip, wondering if I’ll ask the same damn question I do every time.

“Busy.” I shrug. “Have you seen her at all?” God, I feel fucking pathetic. “Does she smile?”

“Adam, if you want to know, call her.” I know Kelsie has seen her for the charity project. “I’m not getting in the middle of you two.”

“Has she at least asked about me?”

Her eyes move down the hall as the kids start to get loud. The knock on the door sounds and my sister shakes her head.

“Look, I’m heading out, so I need to let the babysitter in.” She says the last part slowly and with caution.

“Okay, let me say goodbye to the kids.” Is Lauren on the other side of the door?

“Mallory, wait for me to open the door.” Kelsie rolls her lips in like she does when she’s nervous. “I don’t want to upset the kids with saying goodbye to you right before I leave. Love you, bye.” The screen shuts off.

When the hell has Kelsie ever hired a babysitter? Would Lauren take on the kids alone? I walk past the lounge as Clyde, one of the lounge bar staff, waves me over. If I didn’t notice the distress in his normal aloof self, I would continue walking. This lounge is now the epitome of gut wrenching. Instead of the faint perfume and deluxe food hitting my nose, I’m taken back to the cool crisp air as my eyes rest on the back wall.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Not a chance in hell. Take this down.” It’s my first day on the job and I’m ordering the staff around like an asshole.

“Your father's orders were to keep this front and center with smaller photos around it. You will have to talk this over with him.” Yeah, I sure as hell will.

Not only do I have to relive my memorable weekend with Lauren every day as I walk around this hotel, I now know who purchased our star piece photo from Grayson’s gallery. The large photo hangs front and center of Lauren and me on the rolling foggy mountain. Another slice goes through me as a reminder of how far I am from the life I want to live.

How did he even know about this photo? With connections to everyone in the city, of course he was tipped off about his son being in an iconic photo. Which, he jumped to purchase for the tacky travel photo wall. If this isn’t removed, I’ll have to find another bar or drink alone in my room.

I keep my eyes on Clyde, trying to avoid the giant in your face reminder of who I’ve lost. His mop head of hair is styled neatly and his black dress shirt is the opposite look to his off-duty Burton hoodie. Clyde is in his early twenties, with the sole purpose of hitting the slopes every time he’s not behind this counter. For the stereotypical ski bum, he cleans up nice. I rest my hands against the smooth counter, debating if a bourbon after my workout will help me fall asleep quicker.

“What’s up, Clyde?”

“I was going to call security, but then saw you.” He nods to the far corner. “I thought you could talk to her and be more discrete than me bringing in security and making a scene.” A smirk rests on his lips. “Or you can take her back to your suite and get rid of your pent-up tension by railing her.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” My eyes dart around the room, looking for the problem. “And I don’t have pent-up tension,” I reply with more aggravation.

“You’re always so tense, dude. Grouchy. You either need a good joint, a day on the slopes or a good roll in the sheets.”

“Whatever,” I grunt, confirming what I want to deny.

I hear crude comments from the corner of the booths and do a double take to a middle-aged woman leaning over a couples table. She’s inviting them to have a threesome. When they turn her down, looking mortified, she adjusts her breasts and spots me. A dangerous, playful smile appears across her face as she sways her hips my way. Is this a ritzy desperate housewife? I peg her around fifty, with a real taste for designer clothing and jewelry. Her boobs, on the other hand, are clearly fake.

“Hey, big bear,” she purrs and is close enough for me to catch the wine on her breath. “How about we head to your room, and you can maul this kitten?” She slowly winks as her fingers run down my chest.

Mortified by her public boldness, I brush her hand away and take a step back. Disgust rushes through my veins from her touch. It’s clear that she’s kinky enough to distract me and relieve my so-called pent-up tension, but she’s still not enough to rid my mind of a certain woman. My body remains dormant, indicating zero response to her touch and I can’t get past the stale wine on her breath. I don’t condone this kind of behavior, especially in my family’s hotel.

“Ma’am, you need to leave.” I gesture my hand toward the lobby. “Are you a guest here?”

“A guest? Is that how you treat the owner’s daughter?” Her hand lifts to her chest in offense.