Page 105 of One Big Little Secret

“It’s a solid scent,” he grinds out. “Is that why you’re here? To discuss fragrances?”

“Oh, yeah! Kinda. Lemmy here, she’s in charge of supplies and all… I thought your guests might enjoy a complimentary sample of our stuff for the rooms?” She grins like a shark. “We have options for the guys, too. Not just the Sand and Wind one you’re wearing. Like so many options. I’m sure you’d love them all if you tried them out.”

“Really?” He isn’t remotely interested, his eyes going dark with disgust. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll leave you to discuss that with Lemmy. Or if you’d prefer, I’m sure I can find time for your father. Nice meeting you.”

Oh my God.

Hearing him say that stupid nickname guts me in a new way.

Undaunted, Kayla gives him her signature smile and purrs, “Aw, really? You’re too busy to spare a few minutes? I’d love to get to know you—your needs better, I mean.”

Nice, Kayla. Real subtle.

“I’m afraid my schedule’s packed today.” He puts a hand on the small of her back—which I’m pretty sure is almost enough to kill her—and escorts her out before she makes him punch her number into his phone.

I hear her saying something about how many Instagram followers she has through the door as he closes it.

I can’t see her face, but I can picture it.

I try not to laugh.

She’s fuming.

She wasted an hour with me, waiting for him, only to be shown the door in two minutes.

People don’t do that to Kayla Persephone.They just don’t.

But I’m pretty glad Patton just did.

“I’m sorry about that,” I say as he reappears and—rips off his jacket? He grabs a water bottle and starts splashing it around his neckline, blotting it dry with tissues. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Remind me to never wear this goddamned brand again. It’s ruined after meeting her,” he mutters.

I giggle before I can help myself. Amazingly, everything almost feels normal again.

Almost.

Then I remember the hulking elephant in the room and my laughter fades.

Here it comes.

The apology, or maybe a grim, guilty-faced lecture about how it was oh-so-unprofessional even thoughhewas the one who initiated the whole thing.

But he just tosses the used tissues into the trash.

“Is there a relative Arlo can stay with?” he asks.

Huh?

Definitely not a question I expected.

I hoped we’d just mutually agree to never speak about last night again, not entertain weird requests about my kid.

“There’s a real estate conference coming up. This platinum circle event of big players in high-end vacation rentals specifically,” he explains, talking into the void where I wonder if he can read my thoughts.

“Oh?”

“It runs through the weekend, I’m afraid. I know it’s not convenient, but you’ll be paid a travel bonus for your trouble.”

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