“Loneliness,” I finish for her, completely getting her.
She smiles again as she takes a sip of her wine. All the patio furniture is covered or stacked, so I go uncover and lift two chairs, placing them next to a fire pit. It’s chilly outside, but not overly cold yet. Sitting by the fire, overlooking the ocean, seems like a luxury we don’t have the time to partake in, but right now we need something to distract us while we wait. I can’t do much more until I get word from Dex.
“Is that why you live at The Whitney?” she asks.
“I work at the Whitney. My father did before me. It’s a family thing. We just lived there as part of the job, I suppose. But I know what you mean when you talk about the heartbeat. I suppose hotel living isn’t for everyone, but it is for me. I can’t imagine anything else.”
“Do you like your job?” she asks as we both sit down side by side, facing the ocean before us.
“Yes. No. Depends on the day you ask,” I admit as I stretch out my legs and feel some tension leave my body. “I love The Whitney. I love the business. I love who I work with. I also love my past and the legacy that was left for me. But what you’re really asking me when you ask if I like my job, is if I like being a cleaner.” I turn my head to look at her. “And the answer is, I’m already tired of that aspect of the job.”
I’ve never admitted this to anyone before, and the minute the words leave my lips, I feel as if I just revealed the biggest secret of my life to someone I just met. Maybe it’s the forced proximity, but there is something about being with Rowan that makes me feel as if I can just… talk.
“Then why do it?” Her question is so simple and yet so complex.
“It’s what I do. It’s what I know.” I take a large swallow of my wine. “And I’m fucking good at it.”
“I can relate to that,” she says softly. “Being an influencer is all I know. I’m good at it too. But… I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think this forced break from my phone has been good for me. Just this short time feels as if I can breathe regardless of the nightmare I’m currently in. It’s as if I can see things clearly without trying to figure out how to frame everything for a social media post.” I hear her sigh before she adds, “I often feel like I’m trapped and there’s no way to just quit that life. Social media owns me.”
Realizing I’ve spoken more with Rowan about… life… than anyone else I’ve been around, I suddenly feel a bit uneasy and feel the need to be active to break this growing connection we’re forming. “I’m going to start this fire. I don’t want you to get cold.”
She points to a shelf on the exterior of the house. “I think the lighters are kept over there. It’s gas.”
I make my way to get the lighter and see a beach blanket over an outdoor couch. I grab it and place it over Rowan’s shoulders before I light the fire.
“Thank you,” she says as she looks up at me. “You’ve really surprised me, you know.”
“How so?” I ask as the fire ignites.
“I expected you to be so different when I first saw you in the lobby of The Whitney. I expected you to be such a bad boy. Trouble. But you aren’t.”
I smirk as I take my seat again beside her. “Really? You know what I do for a living, and you don’t consider that trouble? I’m the fucking definition of trouble.”
She shakes her head. “Putting your job aside, you’ve been nothing but a gentleman with me. You’ve been protective, caring, and… not a bad boy.”
I let out a deep breath. “I’m just doing my job.”
“So, this is an act?”
“I’m no gentleman,” I say with a chuckle. “If you knew the real me…”
“Oh really?” She turns to face me head on with a devilish grin. “So, if you were sitting here with me, and I wasn’t your job, what would you be doing? How would you be acting? If you weren’t a gentleman?”
I finish the last swallow of my wine and decide that’ll be my max for the night. I need to keep a clear head and Rowan’s laced question is already adding to the chaos swirling in my mind. “I’ll keep those thoughts to myself,” I reply with a wink.
I see that we’re flirting a bit, and though it’s harmless, I do decide to stand up and put a little distance between us. The truth of the matter is she is a job. A job. And I have to keep chanting that to myself. This is not some romantic date by the fire drinking wine with the ocean waves crashing as our soundtrack.