“Lockwood!” I barked.
His eyes flashed open.
I got up from my chair and leaned over the table. It was a big table, so I couldn’t exactly reach him, but it made it easier to keep him focused.
“Listen to me. Last night was a mistake—one the size of Texas. It should never have happened. Aside from how much I dislike you, and how much my family and your family loathe each other, I’m here to do a job. And my job is very important to me. So I can’t have you lurking around, making inappropriate comments for the staff to overhear.”
Weston didn’t break eye contact, but I could see the wheels in his thick head spinning. He rubbed his thumb against his lip and sat up in his chair. “Okay. We can pretend last night never happened.”
I squinted. That was way too easy. “What’s the catch?”
“Why do you think there’s a catch?”
“Because you’re a Lockwood, and a narcissistic asshole who thinks women are toys put on this earth for you to play with. So what’s the catch?”
He adjusted the knot of his tie. “I have three conditions.”
I shook my head. “Of course you do.”
He held up his pointer. “Number one. I want you to call me Weston, not Lockwood.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. Why does it matter what the hell I call you?”
“It’s what everyone calls my father.”
“So?”
“If you’d prefer, you can call me Mr. Lockwood. I might actually enjoy hearing you call me that more.” He shook his head. “But not Lockwood. It’s confusing to the staff.”
I guess he sort of had a point. Though there had to be more to it than that. Weston wasn’t about to waste one of his three genie rubs to appease employees, that was for damn sure. But I could live with the request.
“Fine. What else?”
Weston lifted a hand and cupped it around his ear. “What else, what?”
I shook my head. “You said you had three conditions. What are the other two?”
He tsked. “You were missing something at the end of your sentence. You said, ‘Fine. What else?’ But what you should’ve said was, ‘Fine, what else, Weston?’”
Ugh. It had sounded like such an easy thing to do. It wasn’t like I always called him Lockwood; sometimes I used asshole. So it should be easy enough. Hell, I should be able call the asshole Your Highness and not flinch, yet calling him Weston now after he’d told me to just felt obedient.
“Fine,” I gritted out between my teeth.
Again he cupped his hand to his ear. “Fine…what?”
“Fine, Weston,” I said with my jaw clenched.
He flaunted a gloating smile. “That’s it. Good job, Fifi.”
I squinted. “I have to call you Weston, and you’re going to continue to call me Fifi?”
Ignoring me, he folded his hands on the table. “Number two. You’ll wear your hair up at least twice a week.”
“What??” I scoffed. “You’re insane.” Then I remembered last night he’d tried to get me to agree to a bet where I’d wear my hair up if he could give me two orgasms. I’d kicked him out after one, though. “Why do you give a shit how I wear my hair?”
He neatened a few files stacked on the table in front of him. “Do we have an agreement on number two or not?”
I thought about it. Honestly, did I give a shit if he had some nefarious reason for wanting me to call him Weston and wear my hair up? It wouldn’t kill me, and he could certainly request much worse. “What’s number three?”
“You’ll have dinner with me once a week.”
My entire face scrunched up in disdain. “I’m not going out with you!”
“Think of it as a business meeting. We’re running a hotel together. I’m sure there will be plenty of things we’ll need to discuss.”
He had a point, yet the thought of sitting across from him and sharing a meal really made me feel unsettled.
“Lunch,” I said.
He shook his head. “My conditions are not negotiable. Take it or leave it.”
I growled. “If I agree to your ridiculous conditions, you have to keep your end of the bargain. You will not mention what happened last night—not to one of your stupid friends, not to a staff member, certainly not to any of your obnoxious family. My momentary lapse in sanity will be forever locked away in your birdbrain, never to be spoken of again.”
Weston held out his hand. I hesitated for so many reasons. Though in the end, I was going to have to work with him for a while, and it was my idea to put everything behind us so we could move forward as professionals. And professionals did shake hands. So while every bone in my body told me to avoid him at all costs, I nevertheless placed my hand in his.
Like in a sappy romance movie, the jolt that ran through my body made every hair on my arm jump to attention. And my luck, the idiot had to notice.
He took in the goose bumps prickling on my skin and smirked. “Dinner at seven tomorrow evening. I’ll let you know where.”
Thankfully, our nine o’clock appointment knocked and put an end to our private discussion. The hotel’s general manager opened the door. He walked to my side of the table first. “I’m Louis Canter.”
“Sophia Sterling. It’s very nice to meet you.” We shook.
Louis then reached out to Weston, and the two men shook while Weston introduced himself.
“Thank you for coming,” I said. “I know you usually work from eleven to seven, so I appreciate you arriving early so we can spend a little time before your busy day starts.”
“No problem.”
“I read that you’re the longest-running employee at The Countess. Is that right?”
He nodded. “It is. Started when I was fifteen, doing odd jobs for Ms. Copeland and both your grandfathers. Pretty sure I’ve held just about every position there is to have here over the years.”
I smiled and motioned to the chair at the head of the table, the one between Weston and me. “That’s incredible. We’re very lucky to have someone with so much knowledge and experience. Please, have a seat. We just wanted to discuss the transition and listen to any concerns you might have.”
“Actually.” Weston stood. “Something’s come up, and I need to step out. I probably won’t be back until this evening.”
I blinked a few times. “What are you talking about? When did something come up?”
Weston spoke to the general manager. “I apologize, Louis. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. I’m confident you and Ms. Sterling will be able to handle anything that needs to be handled for the time being. Sophia can fill me in tomorrow evening on what I’ve missed.”
Seriously? We had a half-dozen meetings scheduled with key employees today, the entire purpose of which was to assure people their jobs were safe, and everything would continue to run smoothly. Everyone knew the Sterlings and the Lockwoods despised each other, which made them extra nervous. And he decides to ditch the meetings? What kind of a message would that send? One of the new owners doesn’t even have time for you?
“Umm…” I stood. “Could I speak to you a moment before you go, Lockwoo—Weston?”