Chapter 1

One

S cout Turner sighed in annoyance as he closed a file and added it to the rejection pile on his desk. He needed a new personal assistant, and not a single candidate out of twenty-two impressed him. Well, that wasn’t true. Alex Shepherd was ideal on paper, and Scout had looked forward to seeing if he made the same impression when they met in person. But Shepherd hadn’t shown up for his interview, which had been scheduled to start ten minutes ago. Tardiness was something Scout refused to allow in his employees unless there was a damn good reason for it. He hadn’t created a business empire by accommodating other people’s shortcomings. So, Shepherd’s file got tossed on top of the others, which would be shredded in the near future. If the man couldn’t attend the initial job interview on time, how could Scout expect anything more from him ?

It was two weeks since he fired Erik Fisher, his PA for the past thirty months, after finding out he was resentful of the men Scout saw socially. He’d screwed around with his boss’s schedule, emails, and phone messages, deleting some and switching the times on others. Scout missed several dates over the past six or eight months and wondered why a few of the guys he’d been into suddenly stopped making contact.

Apparently, Erik wanted much more from his employer than just a paycheck. Scout made it a habit not to date anyone who worked for him or had business dealings with him, not that he was attracted to Erik at all anyway. Yes, he was good-looking, in a metro-sexual kind of way, but Scout hadn’t experienced any interest in the man on a personal level since the day he was hired. When he discovered what Erik had been up to, sabotaging his private life, Scout canned him on the spot and banned him from all his properties. And now, when he should concentrate on the new hotel he was building in Seattle, among other things, Scout was stuck without a PA until he found one who suited him.

As president and CEO of Turner Continental, Scout owned several hotels, including the one he used as his home base—the Paradox Hotel & Residencies in San Francisco. The other hotels and a few restaurants, clubs, and condo complexes were in various cities up and down the West Coast. One of his newest ventures, in which he agreed to be a silent partner, was the Cock & Bull, a pub that recently opened directly across the street from the Paradox. His longtime friend, Rico Demara, was the primary owner and manager. Scout looked forward to watching the man succeed—and not just from a financial standpoint either. The profits Scout expected from the C & B didn’t come close to those of his other properties. But Rico overcame a lot since his teens, and it was about time the guy was involved in something positive for a change.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shepherd.” Delilah Webb’s no-nonsense voice filtered through the slightly open door separating his office from hers. She was Scout’s secretary for the past ten years, watching his company grow from a single renovated hotel to its conglomerate status, and she guarded him like a pit bull. More than once, he’d asked her to change positions and be his PA, but she turned him down each time, saying she was quite comfortable with her current job. The PA’s position also required a lot of travel and after-hours meetings and events, and Delilah preferred to spend that time with her husband, children, and grandchildren. “Your appointment was fifteen minutes ago. You were marked as a no-show, and there are no second chances with Mr. Turner. You should have called.”

“But, please. I really need this job. I didn’t mean to be late—” The rich, baritone voice caught Scout’s attention. Something about it sent a delicious shiver down his spine. He brought his computer out of sleep mode and clicked on the program connected to the hotel’s security feeds. He quickly found the one for Delilah’s office and studied the man standing in front of her desk. Shepherd gave the phrase tall, dark, and handsome a new and intriguing meaning.

“And yet you are.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry. It was unavoidable. Please. Is there any chance I can reschedule?” Through the camera lens, Scout could see genuine dejection and dismay on the man’s face, along with a chiseled jaw and slightly crooked nose as if it’d been broken once before.

From Shepherd’s job application and résumé, Scout knew he was thirty-four and had a bachelor’s degree in hospitality management and an associate’s degree in business administration from New York University. Following that, he had an impressive career at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York City, climbing the ranks until he became a junior executive. He recently relocated to California for undisclosed family reasons, and Scout was suddenly curious about what they were. While he could be a bitch of a boss to work for, he did have a heart when it came to the faithful employees of Turner Continental. Delilah and the managers of each of his properties kept him up to date on things like deaths, births, marriages, etc., in the families of his employees. He made sure Delilah sent each one an appropriate card and gift from him. His father had done it for years in his own real estate investment company, and Scout continued the tradition.

Delilah shook her head. “The best I can do is to pass along your request to Mr. Turner, but honestly, I don’t expect him to relent and give you another chance. The man runs a tight ship. He demands the best from his employees, who respect him enough to give it to him.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Shepherd nodded his head in resignation. “I understand that, but I’d appreciate it if he could give me another chance to prove myself. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“I’ll see that he gets the message.”

He glanced around before nodding again. “Thank you.”

Scout watched the man’s shoulders slump as he turned around and strode out the door. Delilah was right. He rarely gave second chances, but a part of him wanted to offer Shepherd one—and he had no clue why.

After shutting down his computer, he picked up the stack of personnel files and made sure he had his phone and keys before heading to the outer office. Delilah looked up at him as he approached, then grinned and shook her head. “I’m still not used to you without the facial hair. You startle me every time I see you.”

“Startles me every time I look in the mirror too.” Two nights ago, he’d lost a bet with a friend and had to shave off the beard and mustache he sported for the past twelve years. While he always kept them short and neat, suddenly having bare skin on his face was disconcerting. His jaw and upper lip seemed ultra-sensitive to heat and cold since he had lost the extra layer of protection, and it was a shock when he touched his face after forgetting the coarse hair was gone. Unfortunately, the bet also required him not to let the stubble grow back for one month, so he was stuck with shaving every freaking day, something he didn’t look forward to. Regardless of how much it sucked, Scout wasn’t one to renege on a bet or a deal he’d shaken on. But in the future, all wagers that required him to lose any hair on his body were out.

Delilah took the files from him and raised her eyebrows when he snatched the top one back. The wise woman hadn’t missed the name on the front of the folder. “You heard he showed up late?”

“Yup.”

“He’d like to reschedule.”

“So he said.” Scout had no idea why he was even contemplating giving the man the second chance he’d begged for, but he wouldn’t make any rash decisions. “I’ll think about it. He was the most qualified of all the applicants, at least on paper.”

She held out her hand. “I’ll put it back on your desk. Let me know if you want me to call him for another interview. ”

After passing the file to her, he asked, “Anything else I need to know about before I leave?”

“Not a thing. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening.”

“You—”

His automatic response was cut short by the phone ringing on Delilah’s desk. He waited a moment while she answered to ensure nothing that needed his attention had come up before he went home to unwind for the night.

“Yes, Phillipe, he’s still here.” She glanced up at him as she spoke to the ma?tre d' of the hotel’s five-star restaurant, Sapphire’s. “Okay, I’ll let him know.” She hung up the phone. “The mayor, his wife, and two guests just walked in for dinner. Phillipe thought you might want to swing by and say hello.”

“Personally? No. Professionally ...” He rolled his eyes, which caused her to laugh. Scout hated politics more than anything in the world, but concessions had to be made at times to succeed in a business like his. “After I play nice with the mayor and his guests, I’ll call it a night. See you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t as if he had a long way to go to get home at the end of the day. His place was one of two penthouse residences in the building. The first three levels were where all the amenities were located, including Sapphire’s, a separate bar, the Ivy Bistro—which served breakfast and lunch—conference rooms, a gym, ballrooms, etc. All the business offices, including Scout’s, were on the fourth floor. The next twenty-four floors were guest rooms and suites. Above them were another twelve floors, each with four condos. The owners of those units had their own parking garage, storage space, entrance, and elevators. They also had access to all the hotel’s facilities, which were included in their common charges if they wanted to use them. Each 2,000-square-foot condo had started with a base price of $700,000 while the place was being built, and they sold out within two months. The timing allowed buyers to customize their kitchens, bathrooms, and flooring with upgrades, which most had done. One of the original owners recently sold his condo for a very nice profit at $1.3 million.

The penthouse level was the highest point, with only two 4,000-square-foot units, one of which Scout lived in.

After stopping in the men’s lavatory and checking his appearance, Scout took the stairs to the lobby instead of riding the elevator down. On the weekends, Scout wore a polo shirt with the Paradox or Turner Continental logo and a pair of dress pants. During the week, however, he always wore a suit. He was fond of designer clothes and loved it when a suit was custom-made for his six-foot, two-hundred-pound, muscular frame.

As he strode through the lobby and into the restaurant, Scout’s gaze took in his surroundings, ensuring everything was how it was supposed to be and everyone appeared content. He was a stickler for detail, and his staff was trained to be the same way. The satisfaction of his guests and tenants was his number one priority. Happy guests will return and recommend the hotel to their friends and family.

It took a minute for Scout to realize most of his staff didn’t recognize him. A few had done double-takes when he nodded and said hello to them before recognition kicked in. It was his first time being on the main floor since he lost the bet, and none of his employees had ever seen him clean-shaven before, except for two of his vice presidents who’d known him since college.

Stopping at the hostess stand, Scout waited for the attractive, leggy, blonde woman, manning the phones and greeting patrons at the door, to finish taking a reservation. As required, she wore a black dress that was neither too suggestive nor casual. After hanging up the phone, she gave him a brilliant smile and her full attention. “How may I help you, s—” Her blue eyes, enhanced with subtle makeup, widened. “Oh, Mr. Turner, I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you.”

He lifted his hand up in a reassuring gesture. “It’s okay, Rebecca. You’re not the only one. Don’t get too used to it, though. I lost a bet and will grow it back next month.”

A light laugh erupted from her. Like many Paradox’s employees, she’d worked there for several years and learned to relax around the big boss while remaining professional. “Well, you still look very handsome, sir ... different but handsome. Are you here for dinner?”

“No, Phillipe called and said the mayor was here with some guests.”

“Yes, sir. They’re at table twenty.” When he raised his eyebrows at the mention of the second-best table in Sapphire’s, she quickly explained, “Magnus Keller reserved table twenty-one for this evening and is due in about twenty minutes but said he might be a little late.”

“Ah, okay. That’s fine.” Mag was one of the highest-paid actors in Hollywood for the past seven or eight years and a good friend of Scout’s. He also owned the other penthouse in the Paradox. Either the man planned to entertain a date tonight, or a movie producer would try to schmooze him into starring in his or her next film. Those were the only times Mag used his status to request the best table in the house. Otherwise, he took what was available. However, the staff always took good care of him, no matter what, because of his celebrity status, his friendship with Scout, and the fact that he tipped very generously.

After spending a few minutes talking with the mayor and his party and politely declining an invitation to some political function, Scout made a point to stop by each occupied table, ensuring they had everything they needed. It was still early on a Wednesday evening, so the restaurant wasn’t filled to capacity yet, but within an hour, it would be. Sapphire’s head chef and staff had developed a considerable following since the place opened, and they rarely experienced a slow night.

After doing his duties and asking Rebecca to have someone bring the night’s beef special to his penthouse in about an hour, Scout headed back into the lobby toward the elevators. He looked forward to getting out of his suit and into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. A new James Rollins thriller waited for him on his coffee table, and reading it was his only plan for the next few hours. He was what his mother called an introverted extrovert. While he loved socializing occasionally, he would rather be on his own, kicking back and reading or watching TV a few nights a week. He enjoyed the solitude and quiet. Some guys he dated in the past had understood that and either joined him in a peaceful evening or left him alone. Others, though, couldn’t understand why a wealthy man, who could afford to do anything he wanted in his spare time, would prefer to spend it behind closed doors instead of partying every night. Those guys rarely reached boyfriend status, as Scout ended things quickly when it became evident they only dated him for his money and social status.

As he was about to pass the hotel’s lobby bar, a man sitting on a stool with his back to Scout caught his eye. A glance in the mirrored wall behind the rows of alcohol confirmed his suspicion. After a moment’s hesitation, Scout altered his course, approached the bar, and took a seat beside Alex Shepherd. The man barely acknowledged him before returning his attention to the chilled, full glass of beer in front of him.

Scout ordered a club soda with lime from the bartender, who also didn’t recognize him, and thanked him when it was promptly delivered. He suddenly realized his lack of facial hair allowed him to observe some of his employees and guests without being identified. He sat in silence for a few moments, studying the reflection of the man beside him in the mirror. He took in Shepherd’s recently shaven jaw, dark eyes, brown hair with hints of red highlights, and kissable lips. The man was very striking and clearly still depressed about missing his interview.

Scout didn’t know the name of the cologne Shepherd wore, but whatever the brand, it was damn enticing. Unable to resist, he sipped his drink and then asked, “Rough day?”

Shepherd spared him a brief glance before eyeing his beer again. “Yup. Lost out on the job I really wanted.”

“That sucks. What happened?”

A loud sigh proceeded his answer. “It was my own damn fault. I was late to the interview and got blocked by the guy’s secretary guarding his door. All because of a dog that got hit by a car.”

Scout’s eyes narrowed at the odd revelation. “A dog? What does that have to do with you missing an interview? Did you hit it?”

“No! No. The ass that did kept going. I stopped. No one was around, and the dog didn’t have a collar on. She was hurt pretty badly. I keep a blanket in the trunk of my car, so I used that to scoop her up and rush her to the closest vet I could find on Google. That’s why I was late getting to the interview. I wanted to call on my way here to say I was running a few minutes late, but somewhere in that mess, I lost my phone. It’s definitely not in my car because the Bluetooth wasn’t picking it up. I called the vet’s office from one of the house phones in the lobby, and they don’t have it, so I probably dropped it on the road, and it’s been smashed by a semi by now.”

Of all the things the man could’ve said, rescuing a dog was the last excuse Scout expected. His gaze remained on the Shepherd’s reflection, looking for any signs he recognized the owner of the Paradox and was trying to snow him. However, nothing but disappointment showed on Shepherd’s face.

Scout’s impression of the man shot up a few more points. “Is the dog going to be okay?”

“Yeah, the vet seems to think so. I asked when I called about my phone—she’s got a broken leg and some bruising and road rash. They’ll keep her for another day or two. It’ll cost me over a grand to have her fixed up. From the condition she was in, even before the car hit her, it’s obvious she’s a stray. If I didn’t agree to pay the vet bill, they would’ve put her down—humanely, of course.”

His disgusted snort said he didn’t think there was anything humane about euthanizing a dog simply because it was homeless. Scout silently agreed with him.

“Wow. That really sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t let them kill her, and my apartment building doesn’t allow pets, so somehow, I’ll have to find a home for her before they release her. On top of all that, I need to get a new phone now and start looking for a job again.”

“What happened to your old one? Your job, I mean. I assume you had one.” Of course, Scout knew that from the man’s résumé.

“Yeah. One I really liked, but my mom had a mild stroke two months ago. She’s okay but needs to use a walker now. My dad and sister can easily care for her with the help of a home health aide, but I couldn’t sit back in New York and let them deal with everything here.” He shrugged as if the decision had been a no-brainer. “So, I gave a month’s notice and moved back to the Bay Area to do whatever I could to help my family.”

“Just like that? Without having another job lined up?”

“I thought I did have one. Three days before I was supposed to start, the hotel announced it was being sold in a merger, and all personnel decisions were put on hold until further notice. Even though I was offered the job, I hadn’t started yet, so ...” He shrugged instead of finishing the sentence.

Scout knew precisely which hotel Shepherd was referring to. He considered an attempt to acquire the property, but after getting a consultant’s report, he decided against it.

Shepherd had a massive heart to go with his impressive résumé. Scout didn’t know many people who would willingly be late to an interview with him to save a dog’s life. Shepherd also left a job he loved to be near his parents and sister. Family was important to Scout—he was very close to his—and Turner Continental was an extension of that. Alex Shepherd was the type of man who would fit right in with the company.

With a decision made, Scout pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket and tossed a twenty next to his soda, indicating to the bartender he would also pay for the other man’s drink. He then retrieved a business card and dropped it in front of Shepherd. “Call my secretary in the morning and reschedule the interview for tomorrow afternoon. I rarely give second chances, so don’t be late this time.”

He almost laughed out loud as Shepherd’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he read the card and then stared at him in disbelief. “You’re—you’re Scout Turner?”

He smirked. “Minus the beard and mustache, yeah, I’m him. See you tomorrow.” He started to turn away but then paused. “Bring the dog’s vet bill with you. I’ll take care of it.”

If Shepherd’s jaw dropped any further, it would’ve hit the bar. “Mr. Turner, I-I don’t know what?—”

“Just be on time,” he reminded him again. Without letting the man get another word in, Scout left him in shock. If Shepherd arrived early for his interview, as Scout expected, he’d certainly get the job.