My Kinda Night (Summer Sisters Book 2) Page 7

  “The only Payton I know is a client of the firm.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  Damn her.

  “She’s not ugly,” I say, mumbling the words. Jesus, what am I? Fourteen? Why can’t I just tell my mom that I think she’s hot?

  “Hmmmm.” That’s all she says. Hmmmm. I’m pretty sure she has everything figured out just like she did when I was seventeen and I told her the pack of cigarettes in my room where my buddy Wes’s.

  “Anyway, I need to get another load of laundry done so I can finish packing. I’ll meet you here after you get off work, right?”

  “Mmmhmmm.” It’s more of a noise than a word. Shit, she doesn’t believe a word I’ve said. Why the hell did I have to say Payton’s name?

  “Okay, see you tomorrow, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, Dean. See you tomorrow.” There’s wittiness in her words. She’s definitely humoring me and knows that I’m completely full of shit. Great.

  After finishing up the kitchen and the last load of laundry for the evening, I lock everything up and head to bed. Even though I’m exhausted, I’m just not sure I can sleep. Not with the knowledge of leaving Bri for three nights looming in the morning. It’s going to be awkward, me being solo for multiple nights for the first time in over five years. I suppose this would be the perfect time to potentially meet someone. I mean, I’m going to be in a strange city at a hotel, right? It doesn’t get more convenient than that.

  Even though that’s never been my forte, it wouldn’t hurt me to keep my options open. Three whole nights without my daughter could prove to be beneficial in that respect. I mean, I am still a man. Even if this man has been more celibate than not in the last few years.

  Except for my time with Payton. That’s something I’m not likely to forget anytime soon.

  * * *

  The drive to Richmond is peaceful, something I’m not accustomed to. I bask in the solitude of listening to my own music, not whatever Bri wants to listen to or whatever movie she’s watching. It’s actually enjoyable to have a little me time, though I’d never admit that to my mom. I’ll never hear the end of it if I do.

  The convention is in one of Richmond’s largest hotels, The Freemont. They’ve hosted the annual event for several years as accountants and CPAs from all over the country attend this informative and educational 3-day event. Even though it falls during the beginning of tax season (who’s bright idea was that anyway?), they still sell out tickets every year.

  When I pull into the parking garage, it isn’t until the third level that I finally find a parking spot, and even then, it’s way in back. The temperature is brisk with a chill in the air. It’s not quite as salty as the Bay weather, but feels much of the same anyway.

  After parking my car, I retrieve my briefcase, roller suitcase, and my garment bag. I’m not required to wear business suits to the event, but I brought one just in case. There’s a dinner on Thursday night at the hotel where it’s a little more of a dressed-up event. Otherwise, Dockers or dress slacks, dress shirt, and tie are the attire for men, and business dress for the women. Though, I’m sure I’ll still see plenty of suits over the next three days. Some old school guys still wear them daily.

  The check-in process is pretty painless. My reservation for a king-sized bed, non-smoking room is pretty standard. I have the company card that my reservation was made under, so after signing my name a few times, I’m handed the plastic key card and told which elevator will take me to my floor. Technically, they all will, but the one at the far end of the corridor will get me closest to my home away from home for the next three nights.

  I make quick work of unpacking my suit, my suitcase and shaving kit, and computer. Even though I’m required to attend this thing doesn’t mean work stops. Not at the end of January. I grab my phone to text Mom when my stomach growls, reminding me that I didn’t eat dinner tonight before I left the house. It sounds childish, but I couldn’t eat. My stomach was in knots as I watched my daughter smile and carry on without a care in the world. And for her, there isn’t a care. She’ll be perfectly fine and content with her grandma, and me, I’ll be missing her every second of every day.

  That’s the first thing I learned about being a parent: unconditional, never-ending love.

  I fire off a quick text to Mom. Even though it’s after nine, I know she’ll be waiting to hear from me. Her reply comes before I can even set the phone down.

  Mom: She was out before I finished the second story. We’re fine. Have fun.

  Me: I’m glad. Don’t let her sweet talk you in to ice cream for breakfast.

  Mom: Don’t you worry about it. What happens when Dad is away stays between Bri and me.

  Me: That makes me question why I left her in your hands.

  Mom: You turned out just fine.

  Me: I also never had ice cream for breakfast.

  Mom: One of the joys of having grandkids. Go. Enjoy yourself. We’re fine.

  I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and grab my key card. I’m starved, and could honestly use a drink. Pushing aside all thoughts of what’s waiting for me at home, I head out of my room and down to the restaurant. Maybe with a full belly and a glass of something strong, I’ll be able to get a little sleep tonight.

  Chapter Nine

  Payton

  “What do you mean you don’t see my completed reservation?” I ask, my voice dangerously close to reaching a pitch that only dogs can hear.

  “Well, it appears you made the reservation, but a room wasn’t held for you,” the young blond manager says sheepishly with a look of sympathy in her light blue eyes.

  “So give me another room.”

  “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any available. There’s three conventions going on this week, and we’re booked solid.”

  “Let me get this straight. You took my registration, charged my credit card for the room, but there’s no room available?”

  “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. The hotel will gladly refund the charge to your card for the room.”

  “But, I’m attending the convention here. I’m supposed to be here through Friday.”

  “Again, I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Country Gardens will happily provide you with a voucher for a free stay at any one of our Country Garden Inns in the United States.”

  “Really?” I ask, giving her a look of shock. “I don’t want your voucher. I want the room that I reserved.”

  “I’m very sorry, ma’am.”

  “And stop calling me ma’am!” I exclaim as I grab my bag and turn towards the entrance.

  “I could happily call around and see about finding another room for you at a nearby hotel. Unfortunately, with the conventions in town, finding a room in downtown will be rather difficult.”

  I almost turn around and give her a piece of my mind once more, but opt to just leave. Keeping my back ramrod straight, I pull my bag right out the front door. I don’t care about the voucher. I don’t really care about the hotel room. I don’t even care about the stupid convention right now. I want to admit defeat and jump back in my car, heading home.

  But I won’t do that.

  I won’t put my tail between my legs and head home when everyone else helped make this trip possible. Between Rachel, Grandma, and Jaime, the shop is taken care of. AJ and Lexi both agreed to stop in and check on things, and Abby volunteered to stop by my house and water my plants. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I don’t have any plants.

  Walking down the street, I step inside the first hotel I come across. Unfortunately, the manager at the first hotel is right: there’s no availability. Not here, not anywhere. Just to be sure, I try four more before backtracking on the opposite side of the street. There’s one more down the block. If that one doesn’t have availability, then I’ll admit defeat. I’ll head home, wasting the money on my ticket and taking a huge hit to my pride. Sure I could stay at a smaller, cheaper hotel out of the downtown area, but then I’ll have to pay double for park
ing and deal with traffic.

  And I hate dealing with traffic.

  I stroll into The Freemont hotel, tired and a little sweaty underneath my coat. I wasn’t planning on taking a Sunday stroll when I wore my favorite pair of heeled black boots, resulting in achy feet. Pasting on my best smile, I walk up to the front desk. It’s after ten so the lobby seems cleared out, but there’s plenty of noise coming from the hallway. A bar, if I had to guess.

  Damn, could I really use a drink.

  “Checking in?” the pleasant man says with a smile.

  “Actually, I’m looking for a room.”

  “I’m sorry, we’re completely booked this evening.”

  Closing my eyes, I drop my head. “Of course you are. Everyone’s full.”

  “There are three major events going on this week,” he says sensitively.

  “I know. I’m supposed to be at one at Country Garden but they didn’t reserve my room.”

  “I’m terribly sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, we don’t have any available until Friday night.”

  Friday night. The night after my flower show ends. “Thank you for your assistance. I guess I’ll just head home.”

  “You might get lucky and find something on the edge of town, but honestly, most hotels are reporting maximum capacity for this week. Good luck.” His eyes are kind as he reaches for the ringing telephone.

  “Thank you,” I mumble as I grab my suitcase and turn around.

  I’m exhausted from the walk and the time of night, and not looking forward to driving home. It’ll be well after midnight by the time I actually make it back to Jupiter Bay. Tears well up in my eyes uncontrollably as I check to make sure I have all of the stuff I’ve been lugging around for the last hour. Making sure I have my keys handy, I grab the handle on my suitcase (thank freaking all things holy that it’s on wheels) and take a step towards the entrance.

  “Payton?”

  I turn sharply, surprised to hear my name being called in the unfamiliar hotel lobby, but even more shocked at the voice calling my name. Turning towards the long corridor, I see Dean walking towards me, a tall redhead hot on his heels.

  The sight of him here, at a freaking hotel, has me stop in my tracks. All words evaporate from my brain as I see him standing close enough to touch. In a freaking hotel. A hotel three hours away. With a woman beside him.

  Christ Almighty, I can’t believe it. He’s seeing someone? A week after screwing me into the polished wood of his desk top, and he’s now seeing someone? Hell, maybe he’s been with her all along and I’ve been the sidepiece. Wouldn’t that just be the apple pie on the Fourth of July? Fucking great, now I’m a whore.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks, concern evident in his sparkling brown eyes.

  “I’m here for a trade show, or at least I was supposed to be,” I answer, my eyes instantly zeroing back in on Barbie’s best friend standing next to him.

  “You’re staying here? At The Freemont?” Is that excitement I see in his eyes? Can’t be. Unless he’s excited to have me close by so he can bed-hop like a freaking sixties hippy. You know, free love and all that shit.

  “No. I was supposed to stay at the Country Garden but they didn’t actually reserve my room. There’s no availability anywhere tonight, so I’m going to head home.”

  He’s about to reply, but a throat clears behind him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Payton, this is Althea. Althea, this is a friend from home, Payton Summer.”

  The Cosmo magazine model steps forward and shoves her perfectly manicured hand in my face. I give it an awkward shake as she says, “Pleasure to meet a friend of Dean’s. I’m sorry you won’t be joining us this evening. We were just heading upstairs.” She then places those claws on Dean’s forearm, essentially putting her body between him and I, as a shield.

  “I better let you get up to your room. It’s getting late,” I mumble before grabbing my suitcase and turning towards the door. My feet can’t get me out of this place fast enough.

  Before I get to the entrance, though, I hear his voice once more behind me. “Payton, wait.”

  Turning around, I come face to face with the man who haunts my dreams pretty much nightly. Except now I see him in a whole new light. Dean always had this, how can I say this politely, nerdy aura about him. I never pictured him as the manwhore type, but hey, to each his own. Just goes to show you that you never really know someone. Even if that someone lays you across a piece of wood and does naughty things to your body.

  And cue the blush. No, not from embarrassment, but desire. Apparently my body doesn’t care that Dean diddles with more than one woman at a time because I’m suddenly tingly and hot in places that I’d rather not talk about right now. Especially with the redhead standing over his shoulder looking bored and annoyed.

  “What show are you here for?”

  Even though I’d prefer to run from the hotel screaming, maybe even kick him in the balls for not telling me he was seeing someone, I swallow hard and answer his question. “There’s a flower show across the street at Country Garden. I’m supposed to be there till Friday, but since they don’t have my room, I’ll be heading back to Jupiter Bay.” Glancing down at my watch, I add, “And it’s getting late so I better get on the road.”

  “Wait,” he says anxiously as I turn towards the door. “Don’t go. Stay. You can share my room with me.”

  Wait, what?!

  “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t possibly do that,” I say in a rush, glancing over his shoulder and watching Althea give me a look of total displeasure.

  “You’re already here and you have a ticket. We could share a room.” He says it so simply, like I wouldn’t be the third wheel in his sexcapades. Or maybe that’s what he wants? Maybe he’s one of those guys that wants a threesome. He already has the room, and I’m already here, right?

  Gross.

  “I can’t. I’m sure there’s no room anyway,” I say, glancing over his shoulder one more time after the redhead sighs loudly.

  “No room?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “Oh! No! Althea isn’t staying in my room. We just met at the restaurant. We’re both attending a convention in the hall this week, and were walking up to our rooms–our separate rooms–when I saw you.” His eyes are big and round, wide open and there’s no way to mask the sincerity and honesty in his words.

  “You’re not together?” I say aloud without realizing it.

  “No.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, I add in a whisper, “Does she know that?”

  “I’m not sure,” he replies sheepishly with that cute boyish grin I’ve come to love in such a short amount of time. “She seems nice, but I’m not interested. I really was going to drop her off at her floor and head up to mine.”

  I consider his offer. It feels like I’m playing with matches while wearing pants doused in lighter fluid. Am I really considering sharing a room with this man? A man I’ve spent amazing nights with over the course of six months, but can’t have a relationship with? I mean, even if we share a room, that doesn’t mean we have to sleep together in it, right?

  Oh, who the hell am I kidding?

  There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to resist him once we’re alone, sharing a small hotel room. He’ll be sleeping mere feet away from me, showering in the same stall that I’ll be in. It’s pretty much a recipe for disaster, and the scary part is that I’m actually considering it. I want to share a room with him. I want to take the olive branch he’s extending and attend the show I’ve been looking forward to since the day I signed up. I want to enjoy time with him, even if it remains platonic the entire time.

  “You have to let me pay you for half of the room,” I say cautiously.

  “My company is footing the bill so it won’t matter.”

  I give him a long look, weighing all of my options. It doesn’t take me very long because I don’t have any. It’s either share a room with Dean or hop in my car and head back home. Simple as that.

  Except I know this will be
anything but simple.

  But even knowing that, I still find myself saying, “Okay.”

  His brown eyes light up in a way I’m not expecting. He seems genuinely happy that I’m bunking in his room for the next few nights. I can’t help but feel a little excited myself as I give him a small smile.

  “Great!” he exclaims, reaching for my suitcase.

  “I can get it,” I say the moment his hand touches mine on the handle.

  Surely the sparks that fly from the touch are visible to everyone in the lobby, including Barbie’s beautiful friend, who still happens to be standing back, watching the entire scene, while tapping her foot in irritation. When her face registers that Dean’s pulling my suitcase behind him and I’m walking beside him towards the elevators it takes on this twisted look that reminds me of someone who sucked on a lemon.

  “Your friend is staying?” she asks, trying to sound casual but failing.

  “She is. It was nice meeting you, Althea. I’m sure we’ll see each other in passing over the next few days,” he says as he calls the elevator.

  “Oh, I’m sure we will. Let’s have dinner tomorrow night,” she says enthusiastically, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder and basically straight into my face.

  “I have plans tomorrow night.” His reply is polite, but seems to cut her deeply.

  “Well, we’ll for sure see each other at the big dinner Thursday night. It’s for convention attendees only. I’ll save you a seat at my table,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at me once more.

  “If I attend, I’m sure I’ll see you there.”

  “You have to attend. Everyone is going to be there. Please,” she coos, stepping closer and rubbing up and down his arm. I also can’t miss the way she plasters her perfect boobs against his arm.

  The elevator arrives, saving him from having to answer. He allows us both to enter the car before stepping in himself. Althea pushes the button for the fifth floor, while Dean steps forward and cues up the seventh.