Just a Touch: A Heartthrob Hotel Novella Page 3

  My phone chimes with a new text. “Don’t even go there, Hayden,” I warn.

  He throws up his hands. “I’m just saying...”

  “Change of plans, Jonah says,” I read aloud. “I’ll be in later tonight.”

  Hayden snorts. “With how many groupies nipping at his heels?”

  I send another text, asking just that. “If that’s out, maybe Ira’s riding solo.”

  “Or... you can hang out with the adoring groupies and have some fun for once,” Hayden suggests. “You remember fun, right?”

  “I remember work,” I answer. “And the amount of it I have to do before Monday to prepare for our meetings.”

  “Just skim over the investor notes on Sunday night like I’m going to do. It’s Friday! Go outside and live, brother! Better yet, go on down to the bar and seduce yourself into a beautiful woman’s bed for the night. Forget crashing with Ira or Jonah. You’re a Botsford.” He points at me. “Act like one.”

  I grab my suitcase. “I’m gonna go find a table at the bar.”

  He raises a fist into the air. “That’s the spirit!”

  “And start going over the investor notes,” I say.

  Hayden deflates, flopping down onto his bed to watch the game. “God, I hate you.”

  “Love you, too,” I say as I let the door go behind me.

  Four

  Jen

  Clara raises her champagne flute and gestures around the crowded limo. “Okay!” she shouts over the fray, silencing the small group of six bridesmaids sitting around her... and Scarlet. “Everybody who’s getting married on Sunday, take a drink!”

  They all squeal with excitement as she takes a gigantic chug. She wobbles back and forth in her seat as the limo changes lanes and I once again send a quiet thank you to whoever it was that invented plastic drinkware. She’s nearly dropped it about a dozen times already and I don’t quite feel like picking up broken glass tonight.

  I take a hidden sip from my own flute. Hell, it’s America. I’ll drink when I want. Pending marital status be damned.

  Especially if I have to spend the evening sitting across from Scarlet Rhys.

  Clara finishes her drink, dribbling a bit of it down her chin and along her bright pink sash that says BRIDE. “Okay!” she shouts again. “Now take a drink if you’re not getting married on Sunday!”

  The rest of us raise our glasses and I take another sip while Clara lets out a happy howl.

  “Hey.”

  A bright blue stiletto nudges my calf and I look up at Scarlet. Freakin’ Scarlet and her stupid blonde bob.

  “I saw that,” she says with accusing eyes.

  “Saw what?” I ask.

  “You drank both times.”

  I shrug. “Eh, you caught me. Fuck me, right?”

  I pour a little more down my throat as she laughs. Ugh, I’d forgotten about her little chipmunk cackle.

  “It’s okay. I won’t tell her.” She looks at Clara. “Not that she’ll remember much from tonight, anyway...”

  I nod as another wave of happy howls cascades throughout the limo. Something hilarious must have happened. Or they found a penny on the floor. They’ll scream at anything tonight, it seems.

  “So, where are you now?” Scarlet asks, focusing on me although I desperately wish she wouldn’t. “We haven’t talked in ages.”

  “Denver,” I answer reluctantly.

  “Oh, I love Colorado! Try and make it up to Aspen once a year-ish.” Her head tilts as if she’s inspecting me for some horrible ailment. “Are you working for the Botsford Plaza up there? It’s gorgeous!”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No. I write for the local paper.”

  Her eyes sparkle with interest. “How so?”

  “I’m a critic.”

  She snorts. “Aren’t we all?”

  I feign a laugh. Nope, never heard that one before. Not ever.

  A gush of wind touches my face and I twitch toward Clara as she opens the sunroof.

  “Clara—” I shift forward. “Don’t! It’s raining.”

  She continues upward. “The rain stopped. I wanna howl.”

  I sigh, my objections completely overruled by her wicked cries echoing down the Vegas strip. “A restaurant critic, specifically,” I say at Scarlet. “Pay isn’t that great, but I never go hungry, so...”

  Scarlet cackles again, her face scrunching up in a very chipmunk-esque fashion to match it. “God, stop! You’re hilarious! I’ve missed you so much.”

  I glare at her as she slaps my knee multiple times. I said okay to a night of suffering through small talk but I’ll be damned if she thinks she’s going to touch me twice.

  I shift back in my seat, making Scarlet’s hand slip down to the floor. She tumbles along with it, sparking a cataclysm of drunken laughter throughout the limo.

  “Scarlet!” Clara dips back into the car and screams with laughter. “You clumsy slut!”

  Scarlet rolls over onto her back, laughing just as hard as my sister.

  I raise a brow and finish my drink, tipping it back until not a drop remains. I’m gonna need another one.

  And another.

  And another.

  * * *

  And another.

  The little Vegas limo adventure comes to an end around ten. Clara latches onto my arm and drags me toward the bar the moment we step back inside the hotel. The rest of her bridesmaids stumble closely behind us, wrecking the quiet, simple atmosphere with awkward chaos as our laughter breaks the silence.

  Yes, our.

  In an effort to smother my feelings, I’ve managed to completely lose track of how much champagne I’ve imbibed and am now drunk as fuck.

  We navigate around the tables toward a corner booth large enough to fit all of us (or so we think). As the others tumble into it, I detach from Clara and raise my purse, overly confident in my ability to pay for anything at all but I’ll worry about my bank balance in the morning.

  “Next round is on me, ladies!” I announce, quite proudly.

  They scream something that vaguely resembles English. I turn on my heel and walk over to the bar, sliding into place between two occupied stools and waving my hand.

  “Excuse me,” I say, signaling to a bartender I haven’t actually physically located yet.

  I scan the room, faces blurring together, until I stop on the very Botsfordian smirk on the stool next to me. At first, I groan, thinking the thick shoulders and trim dark hair belong to him, but the features slowly morph into the lesser of four evils.

  Hayden raises his high-ball glass in greeting. “Hey, there, Jen,” he says.

  “Oh, hi, Hayden,” I say, chuckling to myself and offering a sloppy nod to the adorable brunette on his other side.

  “You guys having fun?” he asks.

  “Yesssss!”

  He laughs. “Yeah, I can tell.”

  “My sister is getting married.”

  “I know. You told me.”

  I snort loudly. “Oh, yeah! I did!”

  The bartender finally appears from the back with a crate of booze in his thick arms. Tall, black hair, flashy green eyes I can make out even in this dim environment. Red and black symbols trail down his right forearm. Hearts and diamonds. Clubs and spades. This guy must feel right at home in Vegas.

  I throw up a hand to get his attention, waving like an idiot. “Hey! Hi! You there...”

  He walks over, his eyes bouncing toward Hayden with amusement. “How can I help you, ma’am?” he asks.

  I open my mouth to proclaim my need for more alcohol, enough to satisfy seven thirsty ladies and a hiccuping bride, but Hayden touches my arm.

  “Doc, would you fix up a round of kamikaze shots for the party in the corner, please?” he asks. “Put it on my tab.”

  The bartender nods. “I’ll bring them right over.”

  “Thanks.”

  My jaw drops. I admire Hayden. Such a lovely young man. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  He raises his glass again. “Nah.
It’s my pleasure. Nothing makes me happier than seeing a gaggle of beautiful ladies having some fun.”

  “You’re so nice,” I say. “Have I ever told you how nice you are?”

  “Nope,” he says, grinning. “Don’t think that ever came up.”

  “Well, you’re so nice. And so... nice.” I nod at the brunette’s smile. “He’s nice. Trust me.”

  Hayden laughs. “Give Clara my regards, Jen. Take care of yourself.”

  “I will.”

  I turn away, my face pinched from grinning widely, but it all comes crashing down the moment I see yet another Botsford across the bar.

  Graham sits at a table just ten feet away. He’s got his head down, his eyes locked on several stacks of paperwork scattered on his round tabletop. The old-fashioned glass next to his right hand is full of some half-empty brown liquid. Rum and Coke, most likely. That’s what he always drank before...

  Turn around, girl.

  Walk away.

  I twist toward the corner table, eager to get back to my sister’s party but as my feet stall out on the carpet, I realize that maybe I’m not so eager after all. My eyes fall on Scarlet as her head flies back and that twisted cackle once again expels from the pit of her gut. My stomach churns and not just from booze or the promise of more. Just seeing the two of them in rapid succession like that, even if they are on opposite ends of the room, is a bit sickening.

  My shoulders droop. My tongue gives off a bitter taste. I hate this. I hate feeling this way. This is my sister’s weekend. Sure, I knew going into this what would happen the moment I set foot in this damn Botsford Plaza but I put it all aside for her. Why can’t I do the same for me? Why can’t I put it aside... and finally learn to forgive and forget?

  That is divine, right?

  Something in my slurred mind clicks and I spin back around to look at Graham’s table. He hasn’t even glanced up. That work must be quite important but the buzzing adrenaline in my veins makes it impossible for me to consider maybe doing this another time...

  I take a step toward his table, slowly building momentum as the alcohol in my engine revs me forward. The whim to back out hits me only once but then his eyes finally rise and he sees me.

  Dear God, those eyes, those arms. That jawline…

  Oh, boy.

  I reach his table and clear my throat as if I don’t already have his ruggedly handsome undivided attention. “Hey...” I say.

  He looks me up and down, flashing a bit of that same amusement his brother did. “Hey.” He grins at the hyena cries across the bar. “Sounds like Clara’s having a good night.”

  “Oh, she’s...” I chuckle. “She’s very excited.”

  “And how are you?”

  “Oh, I’m...” My cheeks burn. “I’m very drunk.”

  He laughs. “I can see that.”

  I linger for a moment, biting my cheek. “So, hey…” I shift. “Sorry I went off on your front desk guy earlier. This morning was… a little weird.”

  He waves a hand. “It’s all right. He’s paid well enough to take the occasional abuse.”

  “Yeah, I remember. Still kinda miss that holiday bonus you guys give out…”

  Graham leans back and rubs his chin.

  I slink forward and slide into the second chair. “Do you mind if I sit— OW!” I jolt as I bang my knee on the table leg beneath me. “Whoopsie...”

  He calmly places his hand on his glass to hold it still as the table wobbles. “Be my guest,” he says.

  “Thanks.” I look at the papers in front of him. “Doing some homework? Well, not homework, we’re not in high school anymore…”

  He laughs. “We have shareholder meetings on Monday, I’m just brushing up on policies and… other boring, business things.”

  “So, that’s why you’re home.”

  He nods. “That’s why I’m home.”

  “And not in Canada.”

  “How’d you know I was in Canada?”

  “I...” I pause, wondering if I should even mention that I looked him up but the lack of filter between my ears isn’t nearly quick enough to stop me. “I looked you up.”

  Graham leans forward a bit, balancing on his elbows as he gazes at me with stupid, handsome amusement. “Did you?”

  “I knew I was gonna be here,” I say, slurring as I speak too quickly. “So, I checked to see if you would be here and I saw that you would be in Canada but I neglected to consider shareholder meetings in that...”

  “Question, Jenny,” he says, clearing his throat. “Did you want me to be here?”

  “Pffft!” I wag my head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “Hells no.”

  “Well, it doesn’t get more no than a hells no.”

  I nod. “No, it does not.”

  “So, if you were so dedicated to avoiding me this weekend, then why are you sitting at my table right now?” he asks.

  “Um...” I swallow hard. “Because I’m drunk.”

  He smiles. “Clearly.”

  “And I just...” I inhale deeply, trying to find the words I never thought I’d ever muster up. “I wanted to say that I forgive you.”

  He blinks. “You forgive me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “For...?”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t want to even really think about it at all anymore ever again but I’ve been told that forgiveness is important or something so I just wanted to come over here and tell you to your pretty, handsome face that I forgive you.”

  Graham thinks for a moment. “You forgive me?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “And my pretty, handsome face?”

  I hesitate. “Right.”

  “But you won’t tell me what for?”

  I scoff. “You know damn well what for.”

  He squints. “I don’t think I do.”

  “Graham...” I sigh. “Don’t do that. Okay? Not now.”

  “Jenny, I’m not doing anything. I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You left me.”

  “You’re damned right I left you after what you did!”

  He flexes his jaw as he looks around. “Are we really gonna do this here?”

  “You’re damned right we’re gonna do this here!” I shout as I slap the table. “I’ve been living with this over my head for like ten years and here you are... Graham Botsford,” I mock. “I’m perfect and rich and travel to Canada with my hot assistant who I’m totally not fucking on the side. Tee-hee.”

  Graham exhales. “Okay, first of all—”

  “I’m not done yet!”

  He pauses and sits back to let me finish.

  I open my mouth to continue as my train of thought completely derails, leaving me with nothing but drunken haze.

  “Actually, I think that was it,” I say.

  Graham slides his glass out of the way as he shifts forward, his eyes locked on mine. “Okay, Jenny, first of all, I’ve never slept with Paige.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, okay.”

  “And secondly, we had a fight.”

  “You and Paige?”

  “No, you and me,” he says. “We got married, we had a fight, and you took off. Next thing I know, you filed for an annulment and I never saw you again.”

  “No,” I say, my throat clenching. “We had one fight — just one fight — and you fucked my best friend.”

  Graham blinks. “No, I didn’t.”

  “After all this time, just admit it. I forgive you, remember? We’re… divine, or whatever.”

  “I’m not gonna admit to something that didn’t happen.”

  “Graham, I saw you with Scarlet.”

  “No, you didn’t.” He lays his hands on the table, his eyes turning very, very serious. “I never touched her. Ever.”

  “We had a fight,” I recall. “A stupid fight. A no big deal fight.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that—”

  “
I went to calm down and when I came back, I saw you kissing her in the hallway,” I say, my lip quivering. “She practically dragged you into our suite and you weren’t exactly resisting.”

  “Jenny...” He squints his dark eyes, speaking calmly. “That wasn’t me.”

  I snort. “Yeah, sure. Okay. If it wasn’t you, then what other tall, dark-haired idiot would be stupid enough to fuck my best friend in the honeymoon suite three days after our wedding?”

  My stomach lurches as a crushing weight sags my shoulders. His face falls as mine does, the two of us simultaneously taken by the most obvious conclusion.

  “Hayden,” we both say.

  Graham holds up his hands. “So, wait a second...”

  I bend forward, suddenly feeling very, very sober. “Oh, fuck...”

  “You left me because you thought I... with Scarlet?”

  I cover my face. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck—”

  “Jenny.” Graham reaches across the table to guide my wrists down but I slap his hands away. “Jenny.”

  “I gotta get out of here.”

  I slide out of the chair, lurching the whole table as I bash my knee against the same damn table leg as before. Graham grabs his glass again to keep it from falling over as I tumble out onto the carpet.

  “Jenny, wait.”

  I hoist myself up, keeping my head down as I bolt toward the lobby.

  “Jenny!”

  I put all my focus into my legs, forcing them to keep going one in front of the other all the way to the giant, golden elevators. Luckily, the doors slide open as I reach them and I step on just as a man steps off. We softly bump shoulders and I mutter a half-hearted apology before hiding in the corner and pounding the 25 button until the doors close again.

  Dammit. What the hell was I thinking talking to him? I knew nothing good would come from it and yet, there I went. I just had to confront him when I should have just let it go.

  But it’s not true, right? I saw Graham with Scarlet. I saw him and her and... the back of his head, mostly.

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  Five

  Graham

  What the fuck just happened?

  I shove my paperwork back into their folders and grab my suitcase from behind my table, all the while trying not to topple over from that sucker-punch to the gut.