The Rivals

“A few other candidates…for underneath you?”

I lost the battle to contain my smirk. “That’s right.”

The spark in Weston’s eyes lit to a fire. Taking me completely by surprise, he leaned forward, pressed his shoulder into my chest, and lifted me up off the couch fireman style. In one stealth move I was in the air, flipped to my back, and suddenly landed on the couch with a thud.

Weston followed, hovering over me. “I think you’re right,” he said. “A position under you might not be the right spot for me. You got anything available on top? I like control too much and think I’d be a much better fit in that department.”

I laughed. “Nope. Sorry. All filled up.”

Weston growled. “I’ll fill you up.”

God, I missed him. I cupped his cheek. “You do seem like you’d do a good job. Let me give it some thought. Maybe I can figure out the right place for you after all.”

“I know the right place, sweetheart.” He brushed a lock of hair from my face. “Inside of you. That’s where I belong. How do I apply for that job?”

I smiled. “I’m pretty sure you already have that job, Mr. Lockwood. You’ve been inside of me for a long time. I was just too afraid to admit it.”

Weston looked deep into my eyes. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I love you, Soph. I’ll never let you down again.”

I smiled. “I love you too, you pain in my ass.”

Weston brushed his lips with mine.

My heart felt full, yet there was still something I needed to know. “What would your real bid have been?”

“For The Countess?”

I nodded.

“I valued the hotel at just under a hundred million. So my bid would have been two million for the minority share. Why?”

I grinned. “My bid was two point one. I would’ve won anyway.”

Weston chuckled. “Is that important to you?”

“Hell, yeah. I would’ve beaten you fair and square. Now I can lord it over you, rather than have you think you let me win.”

He smiled. “You’re going to lord it over me?”

“Just every chance I get.”

“You know, I’m in grovel mode now. Eventually it’ll irritate me if you rub that in my face. I don’t like to lose. But it’s fine. There’s no one in this world I’d rather fight with or make up with. I see a lot of fighting and fucking in our future.”

I rolled my eyes. “How romantic.”

“That’s me. Mr. Romantic. You’re one lucky girl.”

Epilogue

* * *

Weston – 18 months later

“Come in!”

My office door opened, and a face I hadn’t expected to see smiled at me.

Louis Canter glanced around the room. “Well, look at you roughing it.”

My office furniture consisted of a folding table, metal chair, and three milk crates I’d used as makeshift file cabinets. A lone light bulb hung overhead from a long, orange extension cord. Making my office presentable wasn’t high on my to-do list.

I got up and walked around my desk to greet him. Clasping hands, I teased, “What, are you slumming today? You know the only view of the park we get at this hotel is the one across the street where crack deals go down.”

He chuckled. “The construction in the lobby looks good. It reminds me a lot of the early days when I started at The Countess.”

“Somehow I don’t think Grace had to pay off bums to stop urinating in the entrance way.”

“Maybe not. But the energy feels the same. There’s a buzz when you walk in that front door—contractors trying to finish up the last of things, new employees running around to get everything in tip-top shape for when the first guests arrive. It feels like something special is about to happen.”

I smiled. I’d thought it was just me who felt it. Six weeks after the Sterling family had taken over at The Countess, I’d been on my way to visit Mr. Thorne when I noticed a For Sale sign in the window of a boarded-up hotel. The real estate agent happened to be inside, so I stopped in. While she talked on her cell phone, I looked around. The place had been a disaster of cobwebs and neglect. But the sign over what had once been the lobby’s reception desk caught my eye. Hotel Caroline. At that moment, I knew my life was about to change.

The building had been shuttered for five years. Later I’d come to find out the hotel had closed one week to the day after my sister passed away. I’d never been much of a believer in fate, but I liked to think my sister was looking down on me that day, giving me a sign that it was time to get my shit together and grow some balls. This wasn’t the best neighborhood right now, but it was up and coming—what I could afford—and I had faith in the area. More importantly, I had faith in myself. Finally.