11. Holden

Iwatch Stuart behind the front desk opening boxes with a box cutter. I'm not sure what surprise will be in this box.

The lobby is looking great, and in the banquet hall, the floors were spruced up with polish, which meant we had to use the patio doors by the restaurant to let the few guests we have in. It's not exactly an issue since the view of the dock and lake are some of the best in Lake Spark, unless you're hiking up in the small hills. But now with the floors done and the walls receiving a new paint color, I imagine furniture can be placed by the end of the week.

Lexi has been busy, which is why we haven't seen one another much the past few days, which is strange considering she's in my guest room. That's probably for the best, so my brain and dick can cool down.

"I think these are sheets," he guesses.

I assess the contents of the box and see the packaged linens. White with a lace pattern. Huh, not my choice, but I will trust the designer's take, as I promised before I realized my interior designer was a woman who sucks cock well.

The sound of two women giggling hits my ears. I glance up to see Lexi gently touching Summer's arm as they walk into the lobby.

"Oh, hey." Lexi smiles when her eyes lift up to greet me.

I step in their direction as Lexi twists her hair and uses the elastic around her wrist to tie it back. Summer… just observes me with a crooked smile. Of course, she knows what new hobby I've started.

"What are you ladies up to?" I play it cool and pull out my phone to have a quick peek and to appear calm and cool.

Summer clears her throat. "Lexi was just showing me one of the finished bedrooms, then we stole a cookie or two that just came from the oven. I love how, hammers aside, the Dizzy Duck is still upholding their fresh warm cookie tradition."

Actually, she doesn't seem to be covering up what they were probably talking about… me. They probably did nab a cookie.

Lexi and I share a gaze again, with our eyes lingering for a few seconds. "There are…" I scratch the back of my neck. "Sheets that arrived."

Her fingers drop from her ponytail, and she claps her hands together in excitement. "That was fast."

"Dated the hotel sheet supplier too?" I quip.

Summer looks between us, and her lips roll in to keep her laugh in.

Lexi doesn't seem fazed by my comment. "Nah, the woman on the other end mentioned you two go way back, so thanks for that," she rebuffs.

Love her little fabrications. It always leads to her face creating a portrait of pure trouble.

"Lucky us then. Anyhow, we need to talk sheets."

Both the women's brows furrow. "I think this is my cue to leave," Summer awkwardly mentions.

I turn my attention to Summer, ignoring the atmosphere that is boiling into a need for me to push Lexi against a wall. "Have you thought more about that job? To be honest, I doubt I'm going to get anyone new in the coming month or two. The job market is slow around here."

"I'm still in the appraisal of staff treatment phase, but thanks, Holden, for keeping me in mind." She smiles warmly at me.

"Any time."

"Well, bye, you two. Good luck with whatever is going… I mean, sheets. Have fun with serious sheet discussion."

I grin. "Towels are somewhere in that conversation too."

Summer smiles then leaves us be. Lexi and I watch her walk away, but the feeling of Lexi's arm grazing mine brings my thoughts back to her.

"I might give her a good recommendation on your boss skills in your effort to recruit," she mentions. I choose not to answer, and I press my lips together as a long pause floats between us. "So, sheets? Is there a problem?" She trails away.

"They're white," I say bluntly as I follow her behind the desk.

"And? You've signed off on it. White with colored pillows. What's wrong?"

I watch her examining a package. "I do trust you, but can't you see every little thing on white?"

"As in?" She stares at me, waiting for an explanation. "A lot of hotels use white. Makeup comes off in the housekeeping laundry, and if red wine is spilled then we have backups. The mood is more important than concern for wine or any other bodily fluid, if that's where your mind is at."

The painter walking by coughs into his arm, clearly having heard. I turn slightly to ensure nobody else is in an earshot then give Lexi a warning grimace, but she seems not very concerned.

"You just took us down a very inappropriate route."

She smiles tightly as she crosses her arms over her chest. "And you love it." I roll my eyes. "But seriously, is this really an issue? The curtains will match the throw pillows, as will the candles. That's going to be a great splash of color."

"Candles in bedrooms, as in a hotel room?" My voice nearly breaks. "That's a fire hazard that I'm not sure we can get rid of."

"No, Holden, those are the touches couples want when they stay here for an expensive room and romance. This isn't a big hotel, and although there are many great things here, such as the spa and lake, it's still a boutique hotel, and as such should have the qualities of a traditional inn, even with a cabin feel, including candlelight. This is the land of Lincoln and prairies, after all."

"Okay, fine." I give up on our discussion. "You have some valid points."

"Great." Her bubbly voice returns. She kicks the box to slide it along the floor. "I'll ask one of the guys to move this to the design headquarters, otherwise known as the spare bedroom of indecency, which is an HR nightmare should I work here on a regular basis."

Her wit never fades, and I love that.

"I would offer to carry the box, but I need to change and head to Catch 22." The other great restaurant in Lake Spark. It may not have won awards, but it's still a decent evening that is worthy of frequent visits.

Lines form on her forehead. "Eating at the competition again?"

I chuckle and pull my phone out of my pocket to keep myself occupied with checking my inbox. "I don't want to show this place until the final touches are in place. It's a meeting with an old sponsor, he's in hotel development. Old money who potentially wants to invest in opening an inn similar to the Dizzy Duck elsewhere. He wants to have dinner with my kids included, as he seems to be into wholesome and doubts a former pro-athlete is on the straight and narrow. I thought of asking you to come but then realized that I'm pushing the limits on the not-a-nanny quota."

Her laugh sounds good. How can anyone not enjoy the melody? "That's very true. Could be a great opportunity for you, and if you need an interior designer…" She splays her hands out.

"You'll be the first I ask," I assure her.

Her eyes glint at me, unsure of where to carry our conversation. She slouches a bit as she ponders her thoughts. "I don't want to intervene, so it's better that you bring your very-well-behaved offspring who most definitely will not be bored at the dinner."

I groan at the reminder of my wonderful children who I adore but know this might not be easy. "Thanks." I recoil.

"I kind of want to have an early night, as there's a flea market tomorrow between here and Bluetop."

My lips push out as I understand her logic. "Sure, of course." I'm still slightly disappointed, though. "If you change your mind, then well…"

"I know." Lexi takes a step forward to touch my arm. "Good luck, Holden. My fingers are crossed for you."

"For the meeting or my kids?"

"Both."

Her smile as she parts from our encounter is so incredibly platonic and caring. Because despite her wicked ways, she has heart. Not often do you come across that combination.

* * *

We're sittingat Catch 22 next to the big windows, displaying the dark sky, as we pass around a basket of bread. I glance to my side to see my kids less than pleased to be here. They've dressed up when all they want is to be in jeans, and they're counting down in their head until this dinner will be over. This isn't the first time we've done this. I used to have a lot of meetings with sponsors, but now they're a little older, so saying they can play on their tablets while the adults talk doesn't exactly work.

Ordering their kiddie cocktails with extra cherries only brought me five seconds of hope.

I get it. I do.

I'm able to give them a great life through love… but also money that provides them many things.

"Into hockey, Harry?" John Colbie asks my son. John is in his sixties and as honest and genuine as you can get. That's how I've always remembered him. He's very much a family man, too.

Harry looks up almost in fear of disappointment. "No. I enjoy music."

"Ah, music isn't half bad. It's never too late to start ho—" His attention hops up to behind me.

"Sorry I'm late, I told Holden I couldn't make it but moved some things around." Lexi's voice and her hand landing on the back of my chair is a welcome relief.

When I turn to smile my appreciation, I bite my lip. Because she arrived in a dark red sweater dress with knee-high boots. It's completely appropriate, but the shape of the fit captures the attention of every man sitting in this room.

A bombshell with snark. Lucky me.

Now it's not just my kids counting down the time until this dinner is complete.