15. Roland

Icould tell by the curve of Emerson's spine that he'd officially given up. I wanted so very badly to tell him not to let her win. It wasn't over yet.

They might've been speaking too quietly for me to hear what was said, but there was no doubt in my mind that this woman was playing a dangerous game with my boss. I felt like Emerson was moving around a chess board, trying to protect one measly pawn. The way he'd put himself in her path to block her from approaching me… He was doing all of this for me, I knew that now.

What he didn't know was that I was playing a game of my own behind the scenes. I only hoped I would have a chance for it to play out before it was game over.

Eva was only in his office for a few minutes, but she left with her head held high, daring to throw a wink at me that set my teeth on edge, and my stomach plummeted down to my feet. What the hell just happened in there? She'd closed the door behind her, and it remained that way, no sign of Emerson. I was really regretting telling Emerson not to talk to me.

The day shift was significantly busier than what I'd grown accustomed to after years of working nights, and I was considerably more exhausted these days, thanks to the baby growing inside me, but I welcomed the distraction. For the first time since I started working here, I didn't want to think about Emerson. I banished him from my thoughts. The space in my brain that was usually devoted to his clear blue eyes, the gentle wave of his blond hair, and that damn, adorable cleft in his chin that I just wanted to lick, was in lockdown. There was nothing I could do to fix anything at this exact second, so I checked customers in, got a papercut on the old-school reservation book, ran through dozens of credit cards, answered the phone, and took reservations. I even helped a woman catch her hyperactive chihuahua that had escaped from her purse.

By the time noon came around, I was more than ready for a break. My feet hurt, my back ached, and baby was demanding I eat all the food. "Think you can handle things for a few minutes?" I asked Conner. He was fairly new to the job, and I hadn't really had a chance to get to know him very well since we used to work opposing shifts. "I just want to scarf down a quick sandwich."

"You're gonna leave me by myself?" he squeaked, his face scrunching up in a mask of horror. "Oh, um… sure. I-I got this." His throat worked as he gulped. "I guess I can just ask Monsieur Holland for help if—"

"No," I said sharply, and he looked startled. I smiled tightly at him. "I just mean, he's very busy today. If you need something, come get me. Okay? I don't mind."

"Oh. Okay…" He nodded uncertainly.

I really didn't want to leave him by himself, but I also couldn't go all day without a break. I was just debating grabbing my lunch and eating it in the hallway around the corner, when I caught sight of someone familiar cutting through the bustling lobby. "Fuck off, not today," I muttered quietly under my breath. Didn't I have enough on my plate without having to worry about this snot rag?

Sawyer Sheen. He was the hotel's PR rep. He was this young, good-looking omega, and I had taken an instant dislike to the guy, regardless of his in-your-face charm. I tried telling myself it wasn't because he tended to spend far too much time with my boss, but that would be a lie. At least Sawyer was already married.

Now, though, when I compared Sawyer to Eva, he suddenly didn't seem like such a bad guy anymore. Huh.

He smiled at me, wide and unguarded, as he approached the desk, as if he didn't know I hated him—which he clearly did because I'd done absolutely nothing to disguise my contempt. "Hey, Roland! Great to see you again."

I couldn't bring myself to ignore the greeting entirely, so I nodded once to at least acknowledge his presence. "Do you have a meeting with Mr. Holland?"

"No, not today," he said, propping his elbow on the desk.

It was none of my business, but I couldn't seem to keep my mouth shut. Just because I was mad at Emerson, that didn't mean I wouldn't keep protecting him. "I know it's not really my place to say, but… I don't think it's the best time to just drop in to see him right now. Could you maybe come back later?"

His eyebrows jumped, and he straightened up, glancing over his shoulder around the lobby, his eyes flicking briefly toward the security camera angled at the desk, before he leaned in a little. "Actually, I'm here to see you," he said softly.

"You are?" What reason would he ever have to talk to me about anything?

He flashed another of those award-winning grins. "Yes. I heard you're planning a fundraiser to save the hotel."

My jaw must've dropped. "What?! How did you hear about it? We literally just started planning it this morning!" I blurted too loudly. Lowering my voice to match Sawyer's conspiratorial tone, I hissed, "You haven't told Emerson, have you?"

He waved me away, chuckling. "Don't worry, I only heard about it because I know a guy, he's very well-informed. I promise, your secret is safe with me. But I'm here because I want to help."

"You want to help?" I asked suspiciously.

He held a finger up. "Correction: I need to help. What's been going on here, with Emerson and the mayor, it's beyond unfair, and I have a real issue when crooks try to take advantage of my friends." He pursed his lips. "Unless you don't want my help…"

Shit. I was absolutely not in a position to turn away someone with the kinds of connections he had. It was the nature of his job to know important people, not just in the city but other parts of the country and the world beyond. Besides, he was talking like he knew more about what was going on than I did. Sighing, I asked, "What kind of help are you offering exactly?"

"Well, I was mostly thinking about helping to spread the word and get donations, but I'll do anything you need. I'll even pour coffee and fetch snacks." He smiled and practically lounged against the desk, and his relaxed attitude about something so dire was… comforting.

I immediately shored up my walls and packed them with spite. I refused to let my guard down, I would not learn to like this man. I could accept his help and still hate him.

"Fine," I grudgingly agreed. My coworker was trying to be inconspicuous about his eavesdropping, but he'd actually moved closer to listen in. "Conner, I'll be back," I told him. Then I turned back to Sawyer and jerked my head toward the staff-only hallway behind the desk. "Come with me."

Sawyer looked around with open curiosity; he had such an expressive face, I couldn't imagine him ever playing poker. "I've never been back here before. It's kind of…"

"Boring?" I offered.

"No. I was going to say mysterious. None of these doors have signs. Anything could be hiding behind them."

I scoffed. "I promise, there's nothing mysterious about them. No secret dungeons or portals to another land. Laundry," I said, pointing at one. "Housekeeping, janitorial, maintenance, security." I stopped in front of another unlabeled door and gestured with my arm. "Staff room. After you."

"You're such a buzzkill," he teased on the way in. "Let me have my fun." He pulled out a chair at the six-seater table in the center of the room and sat down. "All right, let's hear this plan of yours, and we'll see what kind of help I can offer."

I grabbed my lunch out of my locker and dropped down into a seat across from him. "It's been hard to come up with much of a plan when Emerson won't tell us what's going on, but I know money is tight. So, I figured if we could do a fundraiser, maybe a dinner or a gala or something, sold tickets and invited some big names, asked for donations, maybe we could at least buy Emerson some more time."

Sawyer's smile dimmed, and he shook his head. "Money is not the only problem, and I'm afraid we might already be out of time."

"I refuse to believe that," I growled. "Talk about a buzzkill. If your suggestion is that it's too late to try, then you can fuck right off right now."

"No, no!" He held his palms up in surrender. "It's worth trying. I'm just warning you that it might not do any good. Prepare yourself for the worst because… Eva Ward is connected with the mafia."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'd already guessed as much."

"Oh." He frowned. "And you still want to go ahead with this? It could be dangerous."

"If the alternative is having her force Emerson into marriage, then it's worth the risk." I placed my palm over my abdomen. My baby—Emerson's baby—needed me to be brave.

He focused his steady gaze on me, and I wondered what he saw. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Okay. Then we'll need to move fast. Think we can get this organized by next weekend?"

"Well, we already have the venue and food taken care of, obviously." I gestured to the hotel, which came fully prepared to handle any event. "Patrick—from housekeeping? Anyway, he's also an author on the side, and he happens to know Jordan Kepler."

"Like, the bestselling romance author?" Sawyer seemed impressed.

"Yeah, and Gerald, the night doorman, he says can get Max Shepherd here too. Yes, the actor," I answered before Sawyer could ask.

Sawyer leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. "Well, damn, Roland. You're more prepared than I thought you would be." He shook his head and chuckled. "I told myself I wouldn't get my hopes up, but… what if we actually manage to raise enough money? What if we can save the hotel?"

It wasn't the hotel I was worried about. What if I could save Emerson? Our baby needed me to try.