Page 15 of Restrained

I nod again in approval. She then suggests lantern-type fixtures that would be placed around the pool, and I agree.

She flips to the next picture. “Now, on the main floor, the restaurant—the pictures showed it to be pretty bare.”

“That’s where you come in. Tables. Chairs. The bar. All up to you.”

She doesn’t seem overwhelmed at all. She just flicks to the next picture, and I can’t help but feel impressed. “I’m thinking mostly black but with white tealights throughout—luxury mixed with some romance.”

Normally, I'm hard to please. I like to challenge people. But I can’t find anything wrong with her designs yet, which is starting to nag me already. No one is this perfect.

“Alright, I didn’t get a feel for the rooms yet, but I will.”

“Would you like to see them?”

“Now?”

I nod, standing from my desk. “Yes. Now.”

She stands, collecting her purse and tablet. “Sure.”

I lead her to my garage and signal for her to climb in the passenger seat of my car, but she eyes me suspiciously. “I can drive myself.”

“The hotel is at least a thirty minute drive. Get in.”

I know she wants to fight me. The stubborn streak is a minor annoyance I hope will dissipate soon. She huffs and opens the door, sliding in.

Then again, maybe I don’t want that at all.

8

LOLA

He is incredibly infuriating. I study him as he drives us to one of the three hotels across town. He is especially frustrating because he’s so damn beautiful. I swear, looking at him, I feel like I’m appraising a fine piece of art, carved from stone and painted with elegant perfection.

“From now on, I expect you to be on time. Not even a minute late. I got the ‘fuck you’ message loud and clear, but I will not wait around for you.”

And then, he speaks.

“Lola.”

His tone is stern, and even though his eyes are on the road, I can feel his irritation.

“Understood.”

I hate bowing down to his domineering attitude when everything inside me is screaming to rebel, but I can’t. I’ve already worked my ass off preparing for this project, and I won’t quit now.

We arrive at a black metal gate, and Hayden punches in a code before it swings open and allows us to drive up the path to a grand hotel that even from the outside screams class and style.

He parks the car outside the hotel. There are a few trucks parked outside, and the smell of sawdust invades my senses as we walk into the grand lobby. The construction is still ongoing, and several sweaty men bustle around the main floor. One of them waves to Hayden, who gives a curt nod.

He gives me a tour of the first two floors we’ve already gone over before we move to the first floor with the guest rooms. Each floor only has two large suites, and I mean large.

We walk into one, my eyes drifting over the empty space I'm sure is the living room area and see a bar, I turn to look at Hayden. “No kitchen?”

“No.” I’m already growing tired of his short answers. My hand rests on my hip as I wait for more of an explanation. He gives in. “They won’t be cooking for themselves. That’s a waste.”

I suppose it makes sense. I open the double doors and see it contains the bedroom area. There’s no furniture except for a king-sized bed. “So, furniture selection is needed?”

“Headboards, side tables . . .”

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