16. Emerson

Ihad always been a straightforward kind of guy. What you see is what you get. But now I found myself forced to be sneaky. Like, full-on tiptoeing down hallways and eavesdropping on private conversations. It didn't come naturally to me, and it honestly made me feel kind of… icky, but I saw no other way around it. My staff were keeping secrets from me, and there was a very good chance it could put their lives in danger. I wanted to believe that their sense of self-preservation would kick in, but they didn't seem to care at all. They were like lemmings leaping headfirst over a cliff.

What was going on around here?! I had lost all control of the hotel and my employees, and I did not enjoy this feeling of helplessness. Couldn't they see I was trying to help them? They needed to let me handle things!

I never would've guessed how hard it was to look inconspicuous, while also trying to walk lightly and sidle up to doorways without being seen. There was nothing discreet about what I was doing. I was just inching toward the staff room, where I could hear the murmur of voices, when the door unexpectedly swung inward, and Benny stepped out.

We both froze, locked in a standoff. I was just about to come up with some lame-ass excuse for why I was creeping around when he blurted, "I was going to get a haircut this weekend, I swear. I've just been… really busy." His bangs were long enough to hang past his eyebrows, which normally would've irritated the hell out of me, but I hadn't even noticed.

"Uh, yes. Be sure that you do," I told him as sternly as I could manage while sweat slicked my palms, adrenaline leaving my skin prickly. I gave him a sharp nod of dismissal, and he scurried off toward the kitchen where his serving shift was about to start.

I sagged against the wall, blowing out a sigh. I wasn't cut out for this spying crap.

I was about to give up and find some real work to do, when I caught a tendril of conversation. "I don't know why Roland thinks this is going to work." It sounded like Joseph, a serious alpha who worked in room service.

A melodic voice I recognized as Delia replied, "Are you kidding? Even if it didn't appeal to people's conscience about saving a piece of our city's history, everyone loves an underdog story. And besides, a grand romantic gesture like this? Epic."

Joseph scoffed. "Did Roland admit to anyone that this fundraiser had anything to do with his feelings for Monsieur Holland?"

"No, obviously, but nobody is blind to his real motivation. He wouldn't go through all this trouble for just anyone."

My heart was thrumming inside my chest, and when I closed my eyes, I saw Roland's face printed on the backs of my eyelids. What the hell has he done? A fundraiser?

"I just think it's pointless," Joseph was saying. "The kind of money we'll need to raise to keep this place afloat? Never gonna happen."

"Just wait, you'll see." Delia sounded so optimistic, I almost believed her myself.

Before they could come out and find me spying, I turned on my heel and hurried in the opposite direction, through the warren of hallways that crisscrossed behind the scenes of the hotel. I wasn't exactly running, because that would cause a scene, but it was at the very least a quick jog. I needed to find Roland—now. He had to cancel this fundraiser, whatever the hell it was he was planning. If Eva decided he was a threat to her plans, she might do something to get him out of her way. My knowledge of what the mafia did to eliminate problems was limited to what I'd seen on movies like Goodfellas, but I'd seen the news articles about Bruno Santana, and I'd done some research into Barbieri after my dad mentioned the name. The mafia didn't mess around. I had no doubt in my mind what would happen to Roland if he became troublesome.

I came around the corner and caught sight of a familiar figure down at the end of the hall. "Roland," I called. "I need to speak with you, please."

Roland turned around and saw me. He took one look at my stormy expression and panic took over his features, eyes wide. He knew I was on to him. He spun around and took off. And when I gave chase, he actually ran! "Roland!" I shouted behind him. He ducked down a hall to the left, cutting back, so I had no choice but to run after him.

"Roland? Roland, get back here, you coward!" I remembered when I used to be composed at work, a model of civility. Look at me now.

I rounded the corner and saw he was already at the service elevator, frantically pushing the call button. When it was clear the doors wouldn't open in time, he bolted into the stairwell.

The door hadn't even closed before I was shoving my way through it after him. The door slammed into the wall behind it as I gave chase, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

"Leave me alone!" he yelped, his voice echoing through the concrete stairwell, breathless and panting. "Stop following me!"

"Then stop running," I barked back. I was gaining on him, but my legs were screaming for me to stop, my lungs burning. I'd been so busy lately that I hadn't dedicated much time to working out. I was so out of shape!

Looking up through the gap, I could see him rounding the floor above. There was a scuffle, a curse after what sounded like him tripping on the stairs, then a door opening as he exited onto the fifth floor. I was right on his heels.

He probably assumed that if we were surrounded by guest rooms I would be less likely to make a scene, but what he didn't realize was that I was no longer fueled by logic and sense. I caught up with him halfway down the hall.

Gripping the back of his jacket, I put on the brakes and dragged him to a stop. Then I wrapped an arm around his waist from behind and drew him back against me. He had every right to fight me on it, but instead, he melted back, clinging to my arm, his head dropping back to my shoulder. We were both heaving to catch our breath, and I could taste him on each inhale.

"Dammit, Emerson," he panted. He brought his hand over mine on his stomach and laced our fingers together. A small whimper escaped his lips. That small, insignificant sound was enough to make my cock swell. There was no way he couldn't feel it, nestled in against his ass the way he was.

I breathed him in, running my nose along his exposed neck. He smelled different somehow, sweeter, his skin so soft.

"A fundraiser, Roland?" I whispered, my lips tickling his skin, and it brought me great satisfaction to see goosebumps prickle along his neck. "What were you thinking?"

He shrugged, dipping his chin. I wished I could see his face to gauge how he felt. "Maybe it'll buy you some time. That's what you need, right? Time?"

I groaned. If only it were that simple. "Please… just tell me why you won't let me go."

He squeezed my hand. "Because you're worth fighting for."

"No, I'm not." My voice cracked, and I dropped my head on his shoulder to hide any tears that might escape.

"Emerson, you need to understand something. The staff at the hotel, we're like a family, but… they're not just mine. They're your family too." My whole body stilled at his words. Was that true? I'd always assumed they hated me, feared me at the very least. "You might be prickly and guarded, always keeping yourself at a distance, and maybe it's because you think that's your role as the boss, but that doesn't matter to any of us. We love you all the same. And even with those mile-high walls you've built up, we've all got your back."

I was speechless. My father had taught me independence and leadership, but nowhere in those lessons did he teach me how to accept help.

Roland turned himself carefully in my arms, cupping my cheeks between his warm palms, and tilted my face up. He was blurry through my tears, and I blinked them away so I could see him clearly. He brushed a tear away with his thumb. "We're going to help you whether you want it or not, because we're family."

I shook my head. "It's not just about accepting help," I told him breathlessly, my heart still stuttering an uneven beat that I could feel all the way down to my toes. "I haven't told you everything. I'm not marrying Eva because I want to. It's because—"

He pressed a finger to my lips. "You don't have to explain. I know all about our city's beloved mayor and her unsavory affiliations, and not for one second did I think you actually loved her."

"You… you didn't?"

He chuckled softly. "No offense, but you're not that good an actor." He brought his hands down to my chest, smoothing down my disheveled jacket and tie. "I know what this hotel means to you, but you can't marry her, Emerson. You just can't. Even if that means the hotel closes and we all have to find new jobs, it's not worth you giving in to her demands. Promise me that we'll try things my way first, okay? Don't give up yet. Please?"

I couldn't say anything, because if I opened my mouth, I would lose all control. My eyes burned and my throat tightened. So instead of speaking, I just nodded.

Roland rested his forehead on mine, and I drew in a shuddering breath, closing my eyes. I was so scared to let him go. With him in my arms like this, I could almost believe that a relationship with him was possible. If I could just ignore the danger for a moment, set aside all the drama, it could be like this all the time. It was perfect—he was perfect. I nuzzled his nose, then risked my heart and my sanity to brush my lips cautiously against his.

"No more secrets," he whispered. "For better or worse, we're in this together."

Fear and uncertainty still dominated my emotions, but with each kiss, I became more determined to keep him. "Okay…" I agreed.

We would find a way. There was no other option.