Dooley wasn’t changing anything.
Except his clothes.
Dammit.
He wasn’t sure if he was more upset that he was still the woman—the
hooker
—in the scenario or that it appeared he knew the damned movie as well as his friends did. His whipped married friends who had an excuse.
As he was pulling his jeans on, Richard Gere’s character’s name came to him too.
Edward.
Dammit.
Chapter Four
Jonathan Britton was sixty-four years old and had been king of the Britton empire since his father had died forty years before. It had been a major corporation when he took it over, but he’d doubled its size and tripled its worth in his time, and he showed no signs of slowing down.
He was active, vibrant and looked ten years younger than he was. He had a son and two grandsons in line to take over, but it would be at least another ten years until he was ready to step down.
“Morgan.” Jonathan greeted her enthusiastically with a kiss to each cheek.
“Mr. Britton.” She took the seat he indicted beside him. “It’s good to see you.”
“I’m looking forward to this,” he said. “But call me Jonathan.”
She smiled, hoping her nerves didn’t show and trying not to dwell on the fact that this man held her life—or her career, at least—in his hands. “All right, Jonathan.”
She ordered a white wine from the waitress and she and Jonathan chatted about her trip to Chicago and the jet until their glasses were set down in front of them.
“How’s the room?” Jonathan asked.
“Gorgeous, of course,” Morgan said with a smile. “Very comfortable.”
“You have the same beds in Omaha, yes?” he asked, sipping his scotch.
“Yes. But I’ve never spent the night in one,” she reminded him.
“Oh, that won’t do.” He shook his head. “You should spend at least a week in the rooms. A few days in each type, from the traditional to the suites.”
“Maybe I will.” He had a point, she supposed. Looking at the rooms, knowing the hotel layout and décor as well as she knew her own house wasn’t the same thing as spending the night in the rooms, experiencing the sounds, even the service.
“Please do. Then I want you to personally call me and tell me how it was.”
Morgan smiled. “I will. As soon as possible.”
“Good evening, all.”
She pivoted in her chair at the sound of the new voice. Todd was here.
“Todd.” Jonathan stood and took his hand.
“How are you, sir?”
“Fine, fine.” Jonathan gestured to the chair next to Morgan.
“Morgan.” Todd’s voice was low when he greeted her.
She tipped her head up and smiled.
He stole your ideas. He’s a scumbag
. Still, he was a good-looking scumbag. Not fair.
“Hi, Todd.”
“You look wonderful.”
She slid her hands over the lap of her dress. It was a long way from skimpy, but the spaghetti straps left her shoulders bare and as Todd looked at her she was aware the dress came to a V between her breasts, creating some cleavage.
She should have worn a pantsuit.
But then she recalled Doug’s reaction to her in the room and she was glad she hadn’t gone with pants. His “holy crap” was better than Todd’s “you look wonderful”. Todd would say that no matter what she wore. Hell, he’d say it to any woman he was meeting for dinner. It was the polite thing to say. It was expected.
On the other hand, Doug said what he really felt at the moment he really felt it without filter. She supposed the no-filter thing could go either way, but when he was impressed by how she looked, it was nice.
Sipping her wine, she listened to the few minutes of small talk between Todd and Jonathan, but after the waitress took their orders, Jonathan turned the conversation to business.
“Both proposals were interesting,” Jonathan said. “But now I want more. Drill it down. Give me details. This resort has to be the best we’ve done to date. A tall order, as I’m sure you know.” He swirled the ice in his empty glass. “I’ve taken pieces I like from the other proposals submitted so I may ask you to incorporate some of those as well. You were both chosen for a number of reasons, but I’ve learned over the years that rarely does one person have all the answers. There is room for both of you on this project. Others as well. I’ll bring in whoever and whatever is needed.” He set his glass down and made eye contact with each of them. “But I am looking for a leader.”
Morgan felt her phone vibrate from where she’d inconspicuously tucked it between her leg and the chair. She wiped her mouth with the napkin and leaned back for the waitress to take her salad plate, sliding the phone free and glancing at the screen.
I can’t wait to suck on your clit and listen to you beg me to take you.
She squeezed her knees together and slid the phone back under her leg. Wow.
“What do you think, Morgan?” Jonathan asked.
She thought she was going to start taking her clothes off in the elevator on her way up to the room so they wouldn’t waste any time with things like undressing.
“I’m curious if you want the new plans to follow the current brand or if you are looking for something entirely new with the California resort?” she asked, sounding completely normal and professional even though she was a hot wet mess of tingling nerve endings.
“I’m open,” Jonathan said. “If the brand is the way to go, show me. If we need to shake it up, show me. I want a place to wow guests. Whatever that looks like. I want you to show me what that looks like.”
“Obviously what we showed you already caught your interest,” Todd said.
“Yes. The plans you both turned in showed me you two understand the business and thinking outside the box better than any of our other managers.”
“But you’re not looking at our plans as
the
plans,” Morgan deduced.
Jonathan nodded. “That’s right. There may be elements in those plans we need or want to keep, but show me.”
Morgan studied her boss. Todd drank.
Finally she leaned forward in her chair. “Jonathan, are you using this as a test or do you honestly need our help?”
Jonathan looked up. His smile was slow. “I need your help. I’ve been doing this a long time, but I don’t travel with a fresh eye anymore. The Board is largely the same way. We travel as people who have been in the business a long time. I have ideas, but I can admit I might be wrong. I was pleased with your plans, but also pleased that you’re among our youngest managers. You’re relatively new to the business, to our hotels and to the overall luxury travel experience. That’s what we need.”
“How do you feel about brutal honesty?” Morgan asked.
Jonathan smiled. “I’m for it.”
“Then this will be great.”
They continued to talk, but in the end Jonathan wanted them to work up ideas to present tomorrow evening.
“I brought you to Chicago because we are headquartered here,” he said. “All of my department heads and administration staff know you’re both here and why. Anything you need to look at or try is available to you.”
Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out greedily.
I want you to ride me so I can watch you work yourself to orgasm on my cock.
Morgan passed on dessert and prayed for a good opening for ending the meeting.
“Morgan, dance with me,” Todd said, pushing back from the table and extending his hand.
She looked at him in surprise. Dance with him? She wanted to go upstairs. She
needed
to go upstairs.
Which meant Doug was doing his job.
Which also meant she could dance with Todd and not be afraid of acting like an idiot. They had to talk at some point, had to have some closure. With Doug upstairs and his texts in her mind there wasn’t a single worry that this would turn into anything more than a dance.
“Okay.” She let him help her from her chair, keeping her phone in her hand. “Excuse us?” She asked Jonathan.
“Of course. I’m just considering the dessert menu.” Jonathan waved them toward the dance floor. “Have fun.”
Todd folded her in his arms the moment they stepped onto the dance floor. He smelled great and she felt herself lean into him.
“I’ve missed you,” he said against her temple. “We haven’t talked in so long.”
His muscular thighs moved against hers and she remembered the physical attraction she’d felt the first time they’d met.
The attraction seemed cooler now.
She smiled up at him. “How have you been?”
“Great.” His smile was wide and gorgeous. “Could have only been better if I’d been talking to you.”
No time like the present to face this thing. She took a deep breath. “Todd, do you know why I quit answering your phone calls and e-mails?”
He pulled her closer, bending to put his mouth near her ear. “No, but I want to.”
His hot breath on her neck should have made goose bumps erupt. But it didn’t. Which meant her Todd-suppressant was working.
She pulled back. “It’s because of the housing drive you did in Minneapolis.”
He pulled back too, with a frown. “The housing drive?”
“Where you asked people to bring donations for the local housing charity? People brought in furniture and old appliances and dishes and things and then got a voucher for a free night’s stay? Remember?”
He’d done it a month after she’d told him her plans to do it in Omaha.
“Of course I remember. It was your idea.”
She stared at him. “I
know
it was my idea. You stole it. You got a huge write-up in the company newsletter for that!”
He nodded. “I did. It got us some great local coverage too.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’m sure it did.”
“Britton loved it.”
“I know. I read his quote in the newsletter. The same one where you were named hotel of the quarter.”
“What are you so upset about?”
She pushed him back. “It was
my
idea. You stole it.”
“I used it,” he acknowledged.
“And got all the credit.”
He shrugged. “I was the one who did it. Why didn’t you?”
She frowned. “You got to it first. It would have looked like I was taking
your
idea.”
“So what?” he asked. “We’re all a part of Britton Hotels. We’re not competitors. We’re in two different cities. In fact, I was thinking it was something all the hotels across the country should do as a community service. Housing is the perfect charity for us to get involved with.”
“But I…” She trailed off, not sure what to say. He wasn’t her competitor. At least, he hadn’t been until this new resort job had come up. She could have still done the housing charity drive, she supposed. “You shouldn’t have taken credit.”
Todd pulled her closer again, smiling softly. “I took credit for
implementing
a fabulous program at my hotel. I never claimed it was my idea.”
She frowned. According to the write-up in the newsletter, he’d done a great job with the implementation. Of course he deserved credit for
that
. But…
“You also didn’t go out of your way to point out the idea wasn’t yours.”
“No one asked, Morgan. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I thought you’d be happy I used your idea. For my sake and for Britton. I thought you cared about me. And I was trying to make my hotel more successful which helps make Britton successful. Isn’t that your goal too?”
Morgan felt her frown deepen. What a guy. Stealing from her and then telling her she should feel good about it. “Of course.”
“Just like the new resort,” Todd went on. “We should all want it to be the best, no matter what it takes. Even if it means no one gets all the glory, even if we have to do things that mostly go unnoticed. As long as the overall result is magnificent, we all benefit.”
Uh, huh. That sounded great. The fake sincerity was impressive. She wasn’t sure she would have recognized it a year ago. Which ticked her off. Almost as much as wondering if he’d always been a lying, stealing jerk and she just hadn’t noticed, or if it was a new thing since he’d realized she was a threat to his professional ambitions.
“Sounds like you have a plan,” she said, trying to look innocent and sweet when really she wanted to smack him.
“Definitely.” He gave her what she would have considered a sexy smile a few months ago. “I have all kinds of plans.” He pulled her closer. “For the resort too.”
The sexiness in Todd’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Morgan studied him. She wondered if it had always been that way. Was it possible she’d just missed it? She’d wanted to see it so had believed it was there? Or was she aware of it now because it was such a sharp contrast to how Doug looked at her?
In any case, it wasn’t there with Todd. And, best of all, it didn’t matter.
“And I suppose you think we should compare notes,” she said. “After all, the overall success—no matter whose idea it is—should be the bottom line, right?”
He leaned in. “Your suite or mine?”
The song changed and her phone vibrated. She desperately wanted to look at it. Even though she didn’t
need
to look at it.
Todd Becker was no longer a threat to her career or her heart.
“Todd, I think you should know—”
“Who’s the guy with Jonathan?” Todd asked.
She twisted to glance over her shoulder. Then turned fully and stared.
“That’s, um, Doug Miller.” Who was dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, a button up shirt and a jacket.
Oh, God.
Dooley easily picked Jonathan Britton out in the restaurant. For one, what he’d paid for his suit would have covered Dooley’s house and car payment for a month. For another, he was the only older, distinguished-looking man sitting alone at a table for four watching the dance floor where Morgan was dancing with a man Dooley assumed was Todd.
Jonathan looked like he approved of the couple.
That wasn’t good.
If Dooley’s job was to keep her away from Todd, it wouldn’t help to have her boss pushing them together.
It looked like he was going to have to pull out his charm and sophistication for a few minutes. Darn it. He’d been hoping to keep it under wraps.