Page 11 of Best Mistake Ever
All morning I was back and forth to the conference room, making sure they had everything they needed set up for their presentations, which involved rebooting the Wi-Fi and trying about fifty different cables to get their laptop to connect to the projector. Then I got caught up with checking that the drink and lunch orders were correct and were being delivered at the right time by the catering staff, who I had to pretend I’d already met and was friendly with, which got a bit sticky when I couldn’t remember what anybody’s name was. I just ended up calling them, ‘Lovely’ or, ‘Mate’, which was just plain weird because, unlike Dee, I never use terms of endearment.
Then, as soon as Jonah’s friend appeared not to need me any more, I sat down to check through a massive list of emails that seem to have been waiting, unopened, in Dee’s inbox for the lastweek. Not to mention the time I spent looking over the woefully inadequate marketing plan she’s been putting together to get some much-needed new business into the hotel.
She’s really not on top of it at all. It’s clear from the number of chasing messages, unpaid invoices and unanswered queries I’ve been reading through that she’s dropping the ball all over the place. My sister is a smart cookie in lots of ways – even though academia never suited her – and incredibly creative, but this is clearly not a natural role for her to fill. Her main problem is she doesn’t seem to have a system in place for handling any of it. It’s all a bit slapdash. It’s all a bitDee.
After going to check on the delegates in the conference room and seeing that it’s now empty of people, I flop back down into the office chair at Dee’s desk and drop my head in my hands. I’ve not stopped, even for lunch, since walking through the door to the hotel this morning and bumping straight into Dee’s grumpy boss.
Who isscorchinghot.
I’d expected not to feel anything in particular for Jonah Jacobson, not being a fan of ‘bad boys’ and having very little interest in rock stars, who all seem to come with enormous egos and bad social habits. But I have to admit, there’s something about the guy.
When Dee described him as ‘fine as all get-out’, I didn’t pay that much attention. Her idea of attractive and mine usually rank on entirely different scales.
But not this time.
She was right on the money.
Not that I’d ever actually be interested in him as a partner. I have more sense than that. Men with a reputation like his are only ever interested in themselves.
And I’m here for a very specific purpose: to make sure Dee doesn’t lose her job.
Speaking of which, there was an unnerving moment earlier, during that ridiculous back-and-forth about my ‘wig’, when I thought he’d rumbled me. He was staring at me with such a penetrating look in his eyes, I could have sworn he was reading my mind and was about to out me as a fraud.
But then it also felt like there was more subtext to that look as well. There was a strange, unnerving sort of connection between us, which made me wonder whether something lessprofessionalhas been going on between him and my sister.
The idea of it – at least the notion of what it might be like to get cosy with him in that way – did something strange to my insides.
Which was extremely unsettling.
So, it was a relief when he snapped us out of the highly charged atmosphere by walking away, leaving me to get on with the job alone.
My legs had felt like jelly for a while after that and I spent the rest of the morning praying I wouldn’t bump into him again.
The best thing would be for me not to have to see him before I leave this evening.
Just as I’m thinking this – as if he reallycanread my mind – Jonah walks through the door to my office and comes to a halt in front of my desk, his arms folded in front of him, making his tidy biceps bulge, and his face set in an expression of quizzical expectation.
‘So?’ he asks, ‘how’s everything going here?’
I swallow hard at the sight of him, then for some reason feel compelled to jump up from my seat and stand in front of him, as if I owe him this deference.
Or maybe I just feel self-conscious, staring up at him.
Because I didn’t imagine it earlier; he’s just as striking as I remember, with his deep-blue eyes and strong-jawed, heavy-browed appeal. There’s something fierce about him too, whichI guess is a trait he’s inherited from his famously imperious father.
Undeniable charisma.
Unfortunately, I think my racing inner thoughts must be showing in my expression because he frowns at me and to my utter shock says, ‘You’re not going to try and kiss me again, are you?’
My mouth falls open and I stare at him in confusion, before quickly pulling myself together when I remember he thinks he’s talking to my sister.
What the heck were you thinking, Dee?
‘No, of course not,’ I mumble, trying to force my expression into something that resembles jokey affront.
He frowns at my unconvincing response, then gives a small shake of his head, as if he thinks he’s overstepped a line.
‘Forget I said that,’ he says, shifting on the spot. ‘I shouldn’t have brought it up again.’
