Page 1 of Serving the Mogul

One

Maximus

“Oh…well, hello.”

The sultry voice caught my attention, mainly because the owner had pushed her way into my personal space. The semi-formal cocktail dress, a warm champagne gold, played up her honey-colored skin and highlighted her hair.

She was attractive.

But as she eased closer, pressing her tits into my arm, I didn’t feel a spark of interest.

Was it because I’d felt her frank study of me ever since I’d entered the lounge or because I preferred to be the one pursuing a companion? Or maybe I was just bored with easy women? Nothing about her caught my decidedly jaded interests.

Likely, it was a combination of all three.

Still, I gave her a polite smile as I extricated myself. “Have a good evening.”

She faked a playful pout, but I saw the sharp snap of annoyance in her eyes.

“I was ready to ask if I could buy you a drink, sugar.”

“I’ll have to pass.” Rapping my knuckles on the bar, I caught the gaze of the head bartender and nodded to the woman. “But Ronnie will get you one on the house.”

She feigned surprise. “On the house…? Oh, wait. Iknewyou looked familiar. You are Maximus.”

“Yes. Have a pleasant night.”

Before she could engage me in further conversation, I strode from the lounge. Ronnie and the lounge manager, Katrina, had things under control, so I continued to make sure everything else inside the sprawling building flowed smoothly.

It was the last day of opening week at my new hotel.

Today was the busiest day with two wedding receptions, a rehearsal party, an anniversary dinner, and a sweet sixteen gala.

Business was good, and I intended to keep it that way.

After walking through the casual but upscale restaurant on the hotel’s main floor, I started up the staircase at a near jog. A broad landing had several seating arrangements, all in use as people gathered to chat. I nodded at a few acquaintances or staff as I continued up the second flight to the mezzanine level and headed toward the eastern tower.

The sweet sixteen gala was in full swing, the strobe lights and a pink and purple disco ball flashing as I opened the door to slip inside.

The staff member assigned to watch the door for party crashers gave me a quick look. He nodded in recognition before turning his focus back to the partying teens.

It smelled like cake, candy…and cigarette smoke. Cursing under my breath, I made my way around the perimeter of the room, noticing the lack of adults as I continued to search for the smoker.

I found the two teenagers hovering in a corner near a potted fern.

After dealing with them, I left, lingering only long enough to call down to the events staffing office and request personnel to hunt down the parents that left their underage daughters and friends in the banquet room without adult supervision.

The two wedding receptions were well underway and well in hand, so there was no need for me there.

I loved weddings, although not for me, personally.

I’ve never done relationships and the shit that came after. Not once.

So why did I love weddings?

Most people associate weddings with white gowns, pretty flowers, and diamond rings, but not me. I associated them with green—giant piles of it.

Turning toward Prism Hall, I checked the time. It was a few minutes shy of eight, less than a half-hour from the last evening event scheduled.

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