Page 4 of Always Knew It Was You

The woman’s body is all soft curves and the black dress she wears highlights every single bend, from the swelled chest, to the dip of her waist, flaring back out to her hips and down her long legs. She’s not all that tall, probably a bit taller than average, but somehow her long limbs make her seem even taller.

They also make me imagine all sorts of dirty things, like those legs wrapping around my waist as I pumped into her. I’ve been watching her, thinking about it for most of the night.

And that was before she’d pulled that stunt.

Now, hunger is an urgent beat in my gut.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, son,” the warning voice of Frank Tudor interrupts my observation.

“Only about half the time,” I quip.

“I’m referring to this hotel that your father and I have put in your hands. I suspect that maybe you’re not seeing the bigger picture here.” He gestures around the room at the people currently getting drunk and dancing around the ballrooms. At each side, servers stand with more champagne and a couple of security officers guard the door. Even they’re dressed in some kind of Victorian-era clothing. It adds to the theme and probably stokes the air of wonder in the room.

All the guests appear relaxed and very pleased with themselves, likely because they feel special to be invited to such a historic occasion: the reopening of a once-dead hotel that faced enough tragedies to be called haunted, but also reportedly hid many treasures. Discovery of those treasures is now frequently in the headlines of many major news stations. I’m waiting for one guest in particular, the one who can get this damn noose of a hotel off my neck, but he’s not here yet.

“This is only the beginning, son,” Frank says, stressing the words and laying his other hand on my shoulder as though trying to force the gravity of it on me. “This event was restricted to VIPs only, but I’ve gotten lots of interest for the true opening of the hotel. The waitlist for that event is hundreds of names long. That one is going to be grander, and better. It will make the news again. The Grand Pearl Hotel is on the trend to surpass even its former glory.”

“I know.” Part of the reason for the manic interest in this hotel is because of the discovery of a Pink Pearl. It’s a gem so rare that most people didn’t even believe in its existence. There is only one in the entire world, located at this hotel, and it’s why the Grand Pearl Hotel is often called the Pink Hotel.

There’s also apparently a bunch of lore surrounding the Pearl, linking back to two lovers who disappeared from the hotel on the night the Pink Pearl initially went missing. One of the lovers, Madam Something-or-Other, owned a diary that somehow fell into the hands of Declan’s precocious daughter, Amelia.

According to Amelia, Madam Something was a socialite who ended up tangling with jewel thieves that were plotting to steal the Pink Pearl. Stuff happened, she started a relationship with one of them, her original fiancé died and yada yada, the Pink Pearl went missing. I don’t really care enough to remember the fine details. What’s truly amazing is that Amelia and Emma put together hints from that story in order to figure out that there was a pearl-smuggling operation happening right under everyone’s nose.

That’s right, a thirteen-year-old and a young bartender cracked a case wide open. The cops in Laketown ought to be ashamed of themselves.

In any case, discovery of the Pink Pearl came after news of thieves and pearl smugglers stealing rare rainbow pearls from the lakes around Laketown.

All that scandal has catapulted this tiny town into prominence and suddenly tourists are flocking in, everyone wanting to see the famed Pink Pearl or get a rainbow pearl for themselves.

Declan has the Pink Pearl in his possession but he has kept it under wraps until today when it will be viewed at the end of the event.

Of course, as part owner of the Pink Hotel, I’ve already seen the gem a few times and still don’t get the hype.

“We’re on track to make millions of dollars of profit from this investment in just the first year,” Frank continues with that tone he often dons when he’s in a lecturing mood. Stern and increasingly annoyed. “This is going to be the hotel of the decade.”

“I have no doubt,” I say, and even with the half mask, I can see him frown at my glibness. If nothing else, thanks to Declan’s aggressive renovation and marketing, the Pink Hotel will likely be a success story.

“So then why are you selling your shares to Ben DuPont?”

My eyes flash open as I stare at him. “How did you…?”

“I know everything.” The man is good at hiding his expression, but I get the feeling I’ve disappointed him. He probably thinks I’m dumb for throwing away this opportunity, and maybe I am.

But I’m still going to do it.

I never wanted to be involved with this hotel in the first place.

I told my father as much a few months ago, when he mentioned that he and Frank Tudor had jointly bought the hotel for their sons to run. A dilapidated hotel in a small town seemed like a dumb investment to me, but I have to admit that the story of the hotel has given it an edge and it’s gearing to be a very profitable venture. In just a few months, Declan and his real estate company have renovated the hotel from a crumbling shell of itself to a shining beacon that still manages to maintain its historic flair while having a modern appeal.

While I can understand and appreciate the fact that the Pink Hotel has the potential for expansive growth, I have no intention of being a part of that. For starters, I don’t know the first thing about running a hotel and don’t care to learn. Plus, as part owner, I’m supposed to stay to facilitate the opening of the hotel and that would mean that I would be trapped in Laketown for at least a few months. As charming as it is, Laketown isn’t a place I can stand for that long. They have three, maybe four gas stations total, and one road out of town. There’s not a single country club, or yacht club, or a bar that’s not a dive bar. Apart from the Pink Hotel, the only acceptable lodging is the Marriott. There’s nothing here to do at all.

I would lose my mind in under a week.

And then there’s the most important reason I want to sell my shares in the Pink Hotel.

Because with that money, I can finally start up my new business.

My family is worth billions, so I’m typically not hurting for cash. The problem is that most of the money is controlled by my father who has been diligently monitoring my expenses in an attempt to reestablish his authority over me. When he catches wind of the fact that I want to start a new company, he’s going to be pissed.

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