Burned Deep (Burned 1)

“And there’s Patricia now,” I said as she stepped around a white marble and gold-accented pillar. She headed our way. “So, good luck,” I told Kyle as Dane latched on to my elbow and started to maneuver me away. “Let me know how it goes.”

We started off toward the glass-enclosed elevators. Over my shoulder, I mouthed, Call me. I held my hand up to my ear, mimicking the pinkie and thumb gesture for Kyle to phone.

Dane’s grip tightened on my elbow and I turned back to him. “After last night, do you honestly think he’s any sort of competition?”

“Haven’t we already established that I protect what’s mine?”

A wicked thrill shot through me. “He’s no threat, Dane,” was all I could say.

The truth was, it excited the hell out of me that he had this claim over me. It was completely foreign yet exhilarating.

We flashed our badges against the electronic reader he’d just had installed at the west wing bank of elevators, so that only authorized personnel could access this portion of the hotel. On the fourth floor, we parted ways at my office door.

There was no one in the hallway, so he leaned in close and whispered, “We’ll have dinner tomorrow night. Pack another bag.”

My pulse jumped. “Feel free to punish me if Kyle gets the job.”

He scowled—though somewhat playfully. “You already know he’s getting the job.”

“Dane.” I smiled at him.

“It’s what you wanted.”

“Yes, so … Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek, then entered my office, a bit on the giddy side. Too bad I couldn’t tell my new friend, so he wouldn’t stress over the interview. But I couldn’t call him now that he was with Patricia.

I set my tote alongside my desk and unloaded m

y laptop bag. I had another huge stack of catalogs to wade through and samples to order. I also needed to take photos of the lobby to fully assess where all the decorations would go and somehow gauge how many miles of garland, crates of ornaments, truckloads of wreaths, et cetera, I’d need.

And twinkle lights.

Lots and lots of clear twinkle lights.

Amano waited for me outside my office when I headed to the stairwell. He fell into step behind me, not crowding me, but close enough that he could intervene in any given situation. It was a bit disconcerting to have someone follow my every move. However, if it made Dane feel better until he’d fixed all of his problems at the resort I’d do as asked and let Amano perform his duties. He wasn’t a nuisance, didn’t try to chat me up. Just provided a protective presence.

I snapped photos of the outer entrance of the Lux. Then the lobby and reception area. The key to the holiday decorations was to create a beautifully festive ambience but not overdo it so that anything detracted from the natural, decadent opulence of the place.

Though I was extremely good at striking a balance with my weddings, I couldn’t help but fear I’d go overboard here. So much opportunity and an astronomical budget were demonic temptations to a party planner. But, again, the goal was not to have every inch of 10,000 Lux dripping Christmas decorations. I had to be strategic. What I did needed to accentuate, enhance, complement what currently existed. Not overrun the stunning fixtures and features of the hotel.

My stomach churned as I considered how seriously I could fuck this all up. And let Dane down.

I didn’t even know how to calculate the amount of everything I’d have to order. I decorated a sad-sack Charlie Brown Christmas tree every year, because my dad and I didn’t really do holidays. So my effort was hardly on par with what I dealt with now.

And that brought up another consideration—trees. Did I want a single tall one standing between the curving staircases? Accompanied by two skinny ones up front at the entrance? Or maybe just the skinny trees so I didn’t block the view out to the grounds beyond the lobby?

Shit. For that matter, where the hell would I get a real tree that spanned three or four stories? Where would I get an artificial one of that magnitude if I had to go that route?

I stalked back to the stairwell, forgetting all about Amano as I stewed over my lack of experience with something as simple as holiday decorations.

I spent the majority of the day on the Internet, deciding I had to start with the tree options before I could even think of selecting ornaments. Something told me I’d need everything custom made. But did we have enough time for that?

Mid-afternoon, Molly came into my office with three gentlemen wearing jeans and T-shirts, tool belts around their waists.

She said, “Your corkboard has arrived. Is now a good time to install it?”

“Install?” My brow jerked up. What had Dane done?

I stepped around my desk and into the hallway, finding a long metal cart with a mammoth wood cabinet resting on it, protected by a drop cloth on the floor of the cart.