Escape With Me (Love With Me 1)

Where was that front desk staff?

Lorna giggled, throaty and sexual. “I'm supposed to go to a stupid bachelorette party, but for you...” She ran her eyes up and down his body and grinned. “Want to go up to my room and have some of that champagne?”

“Ma'am, I have to work,” Wyatt told her firmly, taking a step away from her. She looked like a cat hunting a mouse. Him moving away was just part of the challenge.

“Wyatt? What are you doing here?”

Wyatt turned to see Annette come up to the desk. She was an older woman that worked the front desk during the week instead of going into retirement. She liked Wyatt, and he was glad she was the one working the front desk. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman.

“There was a schedule change,” he said, grateful that there was now a witness to this guest pawing at him.

“I don't have anything up here,” Annette said, looking around. “James is in the break room, though.”

“He was supposed to leave me a scheduling change,” Wyatt replied. He took three quick steps away from the feral woman next to him. “There's nothing up here?”

Annette rummaged around the desk as Wyatt attempted to put a little more space between the overly-sexual guest and himself.

“Huh. You really do work here. The shirt threw me. I thought it was designer,” the woman said, looking over his shirt. She pouted her overly puffed-up lips. “Darn. That's no fun.”

She crossed her arms and walked off, shaking her hips with every step.

“What did you say to her?” Annette asked, watching the woman saunter away.

“I told her no,” Wyatt replied, straightening out his shirt.

“She doesn't look like she gets told that very often,” Annette said. “Be careful with that one. She's trouble.”

“Trouble?” Wyatt asked.

“She's one of those problem guests,” Annette told him. “She insisted she had champagne ordered and paid for, but there was no record or receipt of it. She threw a big hissy fit about it, threatening to tell my manager and write up a bad review. She wanted me to just give up and give her free champagne to make her happy.”

“Did you give her the champagne?” Wyatt asked.

“Nope. Why do you think she was so eager to walk off? I came back without the bottle,” Annette replied with a proud grin. “She's worse than my two-year-old grandson. I don't give into him either, and he's much cuter.”

Wyatt chuckled and glanced at the door as if the woman might return and try to capture him again.

“I'm going to go find James before I'm late,” Wyatt told Annette. “If you see that lady again, do not give her my number.”

Annette chuckled. “No problem. Have a good shift!”

Wyatt waved and hurried to the break room. He was going to have to run so he wouldn't be tardy for his shift. It wouldn't be his fault, but James would still make him pay for it. James loved to use his power over his employees as much as possible. James didn't know who Wyatt actually was and that was a good thing. The man was petty enough as it was. He seemed to enjoy making Wyatt's life difficult.

If James knew that Wyatt was a billionaire, the man would either make Wyatt's schedule far too easy in order to suck up to Wyatt, or too hard to make Wyatt pay for working when he didn't have to. Neither sounded pleasant. It was better just to keep it a secret as he did with everyone.

Wyatt hurried into the break room. It wasn't much of a room, just a couple of couches and an ancient cracked TV, but it was away from guests. James sat on the couch watching a rerun of an old game show when Wyatt walked in.

“What are you doing here?” James asked in crisp Queen's English. “You're going to be late.”

“I don't know where I'm supposed to be,” Wyatt replied, doing his best to keep a calm voice. Lorna had definitely rattled him. “There wasn't anything at the front desk about the schedule change.”

James sighed. “Miranda called in sick. You're taking her spot,” James told him. His eyes went back to the TV.

“And what was Miranda supposed to be doing?” Wyatt asked. He couldn't believe this man was a manager some days. If this were his company, James wouldn't be a manager. Not with this kind of attitude.

He had a feeling that Cassie would be much better. Everything about Cassie was better.

“Private party at the Oceanside Bar,” James said, his eyes on the TV. “You're the private bartender for a bachelorette party. Don't be late.”