Paige

PAIGE

Why did I give Henry my hand? The shock of his skin has my heart racing. I planned to snub him, but my hand betrayed me, gravitating into his on its own. His grip is light and warm, and it lingers a little longer once I'm on my feet. Is it the mere proximity to him that makes everything heat up?

Henry opens his office door for me and tries to place his hand on my back, but I step out of his reach and turn, waiting for him to lead the way. I cannot let him get to me, especially not in the office. It's bad enough Dad got me this job; it's a complete other thing for anyone to assume I got it by spreading my legs for the boss.

Even if that had happened once. A long time ago.

He nods for me to follow, and I do, keeping up with his long stride easily. Too many men I've worked with have tried to outpace me before, but at least I can tell he's not trying to do that. My office is a few doors down. Thank God, we have a bit of space between us. I don't have to cross in front of his office every time I need to leave.

Inside my office is bigger than I expected, with bright windows behind the spacious desk, three large bookshelves in the corner with a sitting area, and a couch—all done in the same dark reds and blacks. It reflects the hotels Rockwell International built all over the world.

It isn't quite my style, though. Not what will appeal to our new ideal customer. They will want clean, white, gleaming metal and a spot of intrigue. Something they can show off on their socials. But it can't be too much, or it won't fit their budget.

Will Henry let me redecorate the office to reflect my vision for the future?

I take a deep breath, slowing my roll. If I allow myself, I get far too carried away. It's gotten me into trouble in the past. Pacing around the room, I stop again in front of the door where Henry watches me.

He leans against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets, looking like the epitome of masculinity. We stare at each other for a few long seconds, and I can't decipher what he's thinking before he straightens. "Get acquainted. I'll be back in a half hour to grab you for a meeting and we'll get started."

I nod, waving him off, and he retreats. I close the door behind him and let out a long breath. If this is what it's going to be like every day around that man, I'm not sure I will survive.

While I have the time, I take a closer look at my new home away from home. My new desk is sleek and clean. A shining silver computer awaits me, but I don't have a username and password for it yet. An in-and-out tray sits at the opposite corner, and I get a little thrill at needing one. I'm sure that will wear off soon enough. A few pens and pencils, a stapler, a tin of paperclips and other basic office materials sit in one of the drawers, but the rest are empty. The bookshelves are also empty-ish, showcasing a few framed pictures of the original Rockwell Hotel and a few awards for excellence. I don't have much to fill these shelves, but I'm sure I will think of something—even if they're simply my college textbooks.

I do have one thing with me that will make this place my own. Because I didn't know what kind of space I would have, I didn't bring much. Opening my half-empty briefcase, I pull the picture of Paxton and Dad from inside and set it on my desk, right where I will see it whenever I question my life choices.

Paxton is my reason for everything. As long as I have him, I can get through anything. Like working under Henry.

I sit and examine Paxton's face, the light brown hair that fluffs around his face so easily. When he spends too much time out in the sun, he turns into a sandy-haired surfer dude, although he's only been to the beach a couple of times. He prefers to camp in the trees and beside lakes more than he likes the hot, sunny days by the ocean.

Those blue eyes are a few shades lighter than my own—more ice and crystal than the sharp blue that stares back at me in the mirror.

And the way he smiles at me…he looks exactly like his father. The man who has no idea he has a son because I didn't have the guts to tell him that I was pregnant. I didn't want to ruin the man's life because we spent one night together.

Paxton knew about his father though. I couldn't lie to my little boy. Well, not much, anyway. He thought his father was off doing important things, and that was the truth. But I didn't know if he would ever come back, step up and be a part of Paxton's life—our life, so I made no promises about it.

I hope I wasn't making a mistake there.

But if I've learned anything from being a parent, it's that I will inevitably make mistakes. Even when I have the best intentions. Having a baby at the end of my first year in college was a massive change to my life, and although I had all the support from my dad and sister, I wanted to be independent. I stayed in my own place by the college because I didn't want to uproot Paxton between semesters. He deserved some kind of stability when my schedule was anything but that.

And it was hard without his dad. But I made it. I will keep making it.

Okay, I might have fallen apart a few times, like when that magical night ended and my heart was more broken than I wanted to admit to myself.

I knew it wouldn't turn into anything special between us, even though it gave me the best gift I've ever gotten.

Sighing, I touch Paxton's smile in the picture—his happiness pure and vibrant.

A soft knock on my office door stirs me from my daydreams, and Henry peeks his head in. My heart does a few little taps before settling again. Somehow, the extra gray of his hair makes him more devastatingly handsome.

He truly ruined me for anyone my own age. Not just the way he'd touched me, kissed me and fucked me. The conversation we had beforehand, the way I'd felt so completely connected to him that night, it devastated me when I couldn't find another man who could spark anything close to that feeling again.

I stand and round my desk to meet him at the door. He doesn't retreat, like he enjoys making me squirm. I simply have to show him that he can't. My arms fold across my chest.

"The meeting?"

"Mmm. Yes. But first…" He holds his hand up, pausing before a key dangles from it. "So you can lock up behind you. Doreen from HR will also get you logged onto the computer after our meeting."

I take the key, cursing the heat zapping me when our fingers brush. "Okay. Good."

Tucking my portfolio under my arm, I wave him back, close the door behind us, and lock it.

Henry waits for my cue before he marches me across the office, out and around the reception area, to a small alcove with more offices. It's not the same magnitude as the space Henry and I have our offices in. Instead, the colors and setup create something much more intimate and intimidating.

In fact, this space has three doors—two offices and a conference room—and two desks with assistants out front to smile and greet us.

"Mr. Walker," they both say in unison.

"Mr. Conrad. Mrs. Pennyworth."

They both smile at me, so I smile back as we pass into the center office past Mr. Conrad and his gleaming black hair and manicured mustache.

The office we step into is huge—twice the size of Henry's with a full conference table in the back by the windows, an imposing desk, a full seating area and two walls full of books. In the dark corner beside the couch is a small bar with a big man pouring himself a cup of coffee from a gleaming French press. The cup looks delicate in his hands. When he turns, I recognize him too.

An invisible vise cranks in my chest as I meet those dark chocolate eyes. Eli Rockwell, the CEO, and one of Dad's other best friends. Which means before I turn to meet the third gaze in the room, I already know who I'm going to see.

Dark blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a perpetual frown, Jake Young lounges on the end of the couch. The last part of the trio that spent more Sunday afternoons at my house growing up than I can remember. The three of them were Dad's old football buddies, and although I never really hung out when they were over, I recognized them immediately.

It took every fiber of my being not to sink into the little girl I once was, sneaking peeks at them from the stairs and concocting daydreams of being a grown woman shared between them. Because they were all equally gorgeous.

I'd forgotten that they ran a business together. A hotel conglomerate.

The one where I was just hired to work under the three of them. My thighs clench at that thought before I shake it away.

How on earth am I going to be able to do my job?