Sordid

I spend the next hour walking around the hotel, trying to gather my bearings. I need to know that when I start on Monday, I’ll feel confident and comfortable in my surroundings. The place is so big, but it has a nice flow to the layout, making it easy to navigate. I’m confident I’ll be much better off here than at Axis. The hotel is beautiful, and it seems to be the perfect place for me to build my résumé. Hopefully, by the end of my position, I’ll have made connections to take away with me.

I’m still smiling when I make my way outside. Turning around for one more look before I pass through the wide glass doors back into the hallway, I notice a handsome young man smiling back at me.

“You look happy.” He chuckles.

I snap out of my reverie and grin up at the stranger. “Sorry, I’m in my own world. I just got a temp job here. I start on Monday. Hence the crazy smile on my face.”

“Nice. I’m an intern here. I started a few months ago, and trust me, we need the extra staff. You’ll like it, though. It’s a cool place. I’m Jared, by the way.”

“I’m Bridget. Nice to meet you. I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you around.”

He quirks an eyebrow as his lips part into a sexy smirk.

I can’t help but grin as I walk out. He’s cute. This is gearing up to be a rather perfect position.





Monday morning rolls around, and before I know it, I’m walking through the door to the HR department. Paige is already there to greet me. She holds the door to her office open and points to the chair.

“Good morning, Bridget. Glad you came back.” She beams.

“I’m here and ready to go,” I assure her with a smile.

“Right, hmm, let me see,” she says while she riffles through some pages on her desk. “Ah, yes, here we go. Okay, so you were supposed to be in the HR department, but there’s been some changing in personnel, and our COO requested that you be moved up to help on the top level.”

“Top level?” I’m not sure what that even means.

“You’ll be filling a position as an executive assistant in top-level corporate. It’s quite a jump, but you seem the sort of woman who can handle that beautifully.”

I do? I wonder if Paige is perhaps mistaking me for someone she spoke to in more depth. I doubt my résumé makes me suitable for such a position. Perhaps I should say something, but I don’t have the time as Paige is already standing and directing me where to go. I look behind me and see that another woman is waiting to meet with her.

“O-Okay. Thanks, Paige. Anything I should know before I go up?”

I’m sure there’s a whole manual of shit I should know, but they’ll soon find out how unqualified I am to temp in the hotel much less for C-suite. I do quick work of smoothing out my skirt, hoping like hell I don’t look like the mess I feel right now.

“They’ll run through everything with you when you get there. Have a great day, and welcome to the team.”

Her words don’t do anything to soothe my unease, but I plaster on my fakest smile and move toward my new job. The whole way to the top floor I rein in my fidgeting and work on my breathing. I can do this. I’m Bridget fucking Miller, and I can do this. I keep repeating the mantra, hoping like hell it’ll stick by the time I get there. Once I make it to the stairs, I’m already more relaxed.

I find the door with ease and smooth out my outfit one last time. You can do this. I straighten my spine and knock.

“Come in,” a gruff male voice commands from the inside.

I open the door, and the world tilts. The floor falls out from underneath me, and I can’t contain the gasp that slips through my lips when I spot the man sitting behind the big wooden desk.

Grant.

Looking even sexier than the other night . . . when he left me . . . alone . . . in a dark alley. Asshat. Oh my God . . .

This can’t be right. Only it can.

It so. Goddamn. Can.

Grant. Grant Lancaster. Grant-Fucking-Lancaster. Oh, my God.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he scuffs.

“I . . . I work here.” For several seconds, I stand there, openly staring at him while he stares back. My mouth is agape, and his is pressed into a hard, disapproving line. He clearly had no idea either.

“How did you get up here?” he demands.

“Paige sent me up from HR. She said I was to report here.”

Grant picks up a folder and opens it. His lips pinch tightly. “Bridget Miller,” he reads. “There’s no way in hell this is happening. You can’t work for me.”

My stomach sours on multiple levels. The contempt in his voice has me feeling so small and pathetic. The look he gave me back in the alley floods my memory, and I feel like I could be sick. It’s not bad enough that he humiliated me that night, but he’s treating me like trash he discarded on the side of the road.

How did this happen?

How did I not recognize him?

How did I not know he was the Grant Lancaster?

“Please go back down to Paige and tell her I’ve discharged you. I’ll write a decent exit letter for you, but you have to go.”

“You kissed me,” I say, because in truth I don’t know what else to say. I’m numb. Between his attitude and the fact that yet another freaking job seems to be going down the drain, I want to crawl into a ball in the corner and cry.

Grant’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing in confusion and then anger. “For God’s sake, close the door behind you. Do you really want everyone listening in on our conversation?”

I quickly shut the door and then sit in the chair opposite his desk. He glares at me, and I wonder briefly how he manages to remain so good-looking when he’s so angry. And how, at a time like this, I can think about how good-looking he is. But how can I not? In the light of the day, he’s even more perfect than he was on Thursday. In this light, I can see the green of his eyes. They’re the green of sunlight on grass after the ice has thawed. Mossy and overgrown. Begging to be cared for. Or maybe the green of a tropical ocean during a storm. Troubled and reckless.

Shaking my head, I pull my gaze away from his hypnotic eyes only to have it land on his mouth instead. His lips. His lips are temptation and sin. They bring back a stream of memories of how they felt pressed against mine. Of how he tasted as he devoured me. Fuck. They make me want to lose myself in him all over again. I have to break away. Look somewhere else. My eyes focus out the window at the giant skyscrapers across the street from our building.

“Why are you still here?” he grates, pulling me out of my thoughts. Our gazes collide. His eyes are almost closed. They appear cold, hard . . . far away. But as far away as he seems, his stare still burns me as if I’m his enemy. As if I’ve done this on purpose.

Not knowing what to do, I stay seated. Rooted in place. Completely frozen. Finally shaking my head once, I will words to come out of my mouth. “Maybe it’s because I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m confused. Or maybe it’s because I need this job. Take your damn pick,” I spit harshly.

“Did you know who I was all along?” he hisses.

“What?”

“At the lounge. Did you know it was me?” The words lash out and make me recoil. “Did you know who I was and that you were going to work for me, so you decided to flirt with me?”

“No.” I feel anger bubbling in my chest, simmering quietly, but steadily, as the implication of what he is saying hits me. “I didn’t.”

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