Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I stand and glance around. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. I clutch the magazine to my chest and head out.
The Park Suite is ready for its next guest, and I’m no longer a member of staff at The Avenue. This chapter is over, and I’m ready to move on to the next.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Bennett
It’s five after five and I’ve been sitting at this bar for two hours. All I can do is wait. After two virgin mojitos, I’m pretty sure the bartender thinks I’m an alcoholic trying to resist the urge to drink. I need a clear head for what happens next.
I glance up and Gretel comes toward me. “Bennett, I didn’t know you were in the hotel.”
Just after I sat down with Forbes, I stopped by the hotel and introduced myself to Gretel. No more hiding. No more lies. That’s what Efa needs, and I need her. So here we are.
“It’s not an official visit. As I said, things won’t change for you.”
She laughs. “Maybe in your eyes, but when the owner of the hotel is on the premises, I like to know.”
Which is why I never wanted her to. But it’s a price I’m willing to pay.
“How’s the season been?” I ask her.
“Wild,” she replies. “Lots of ups and downs. The vomiting bug was a low point. But we made it. Bookings are up compared to this time last year.”
“Good. At some point, I’d like to sit down with you and go through what I learned as a guest.”
Gretel’s wide smile doesn’t falter. I don’t get the impression she’s the kind of person who is easily ruffled. She’s good at her job and she knows it, which is exactly how it should be. “I’d welcome that. Having a secret shopper is always helpful.”
“Am I right in thinking you’re relatively new to hotels?”
“Yeah, I was in PR before. Reputation management mainly.”
“You didn’t like it?”
She laughs. “It had its moments. I had the strange idea that I’d come to New England and open a bed-and-breakfast. I worked on a concept for a new resort for… well, I’ll save that for another time. Point is, I’m here now, running a hotel. It’s not quite what I planned, but that’s okay.”
“I think you’re a great leader. If the time comes when you’re looking for new opportunities, I want to be the first person you tell.”
She pauses, her brows pinching a little. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” She silences the buzz of the radio attached to her waist.
“You have my number,” I say, “if you need anything.”
She lifts her chin slightly. “And vice versa. Enjoy your cocktail.”
I check the time on my phone. I know Efa’s shift finished at five and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll call.
Was it too little, too late?
I can only hope I’ve done enough.
“Can I get another mocktail?” I say to the bartender. “I don’t care which one. I can’t read the menu anyway.” It may be light outside, but in this bar, it’s always a step away from pitch black. I can’t wait to get Gretel to change that.
“A virgin Vagabond Shoes, coming right up,” he says, just as I get a tap on my shoulder.
I don’t need to turn around to see who it is.
I know.
Relief anchors my body to my chair, and I turn.
“I’m looking for a guy who just blew up his life for me.” Her eyes are sparking like tiny fireworks.
“You read it?” I ask, sliding off my stool.
“Of course I read it.”
“And you got my email.”
“Of course I got your email. And I overhead Gretel telling someone how you blindsided her by announcing you owned the hotel and have been staying in the Park Suite for weeks.”
“No more pretending to be anyone other than who I am. And who I am is a man in love with you.”
She reaches up and cups my face. Relief and hope and joy bloom deep in my gut. “I love you too.” She glances to the floor. “I never expected this from you. I didn’t ask you—”
“I know you didn’t ask. I want you. I want you more than my anonymity. I want you more than anything else in the world. So I did what it took. Was it enough?”
She nods, and I wrap my arms around her, reveling in her softness. It feels so right, so exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Now. Tomorrow. Forever.
“Looks like New York has me a little longer than a summer,” she says.
“You’re going to stay?” I ask, my heart lifting in my chest. I thought we were just over the first hurdle. Her living on a different continent was our next test.
“I’m wherever you are,” she responds, and I pull her closer. “If you’re in New York, I’m in New York. These last few weeks without you…” She shakes her head a little like she’s trying to shake off a memory. “I don’t want to do that again. I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not. And these feelings are new to me. I know I haven’t had a lot of experience in relationships, but it feels too important to walk away from.”