Page 53 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
Neither of us said anything, content to just be, until the sound of Stone’s phone ringing forced us back to reality. I winced slightly as he pulled out, my delicate parts tender from all the activity they had seen in the last few weeks. Stone quickly disposed of the condom, then grabbed his phone from his pocket and answered as he pulled his pants up.
“Yeah,” he said, his gruff personality firmly back in place. I smiled and shook my head, slipping off the desk and searching out my panties. “What do you mean, they’re wrong?” Stone barked. I stood, panties back in place, and met his eyes, noticing he was frowning in my direction. “I’m sure it was just a mistake. I’ll look into it and have it corrected right away. Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up without saying goodbye. Such a guy thing to do.
“What is it?” I asked, a sense of dread already replacing my bliss from the very excellent desk sex.
“That was Gideon,” Stone said carefully. “He said that your new job postings are garnering a ton of interest.” I smiled wide before he continued. “It’s most likely because the hourly wages are all wrong.”
“What?” I gasped, bliss now completely forgotten as I pushed Stone away from my desk and retrieved my computer. “That’s not possible. I got all the information from the Assistant Human Resources manager just today. Everything should be accurate.” I quickly opened the first post I had made, seeing the amount of likes and comments was through the roof, but that Stone and Gideon were both correct; the listed hourly wage for the position was double what it should be. “What the hell? That isnotwhat I posted,” I insisted, switching to the email program and looking again at the information I had received that contained the correct numbers.
I bounced over to the other job postings, all of them now wildly inaccurate and drawing way too much attention because of it. “Shit, Stone. I have to fix this. Now.” I sat heavily in my chair, working as fast as I could to repair the damage.
Once I had corrected all the job postings, I had to draw up a retraction, apologizing for the mistake. So much for feeling proud of my suggestion from earlier. Now I looked like a complete screw up. Again.
I finished up, double and then triple checking everything. Stone had sat patiently in my office chair, working on his own things and answering texts and emails on his phone. When I closed the laptop with a sigh, he looked up, a frown puckering between his eyebrows. “You alright, Blondie?”
I shook my head slowly and glanced at the closed computer, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but refusing to let them fall. “I know those posts were right, Stone. I know it.”
“Hey,” he said quietly, drawing my attention back to him. “I know you are good at your job, Penelope. I have seen you in action. Whatever happened today, it’s over. You fixed it. Don’t let it get to you.”
I nodded, but I didn’t say anything. His words were kind, but still hinted at the fact that he thought this mistake was mine.
It wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t. But how in the world was I going to prove it?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Penelope
The theater was empty except for Carson and me, but the stage was lit up like the fourth of July. I couldn’t stop smiling as Dolly and her crew ran through their dress rehearsal. There were only three weeks remaining until the Soft Launch, and the show was looking fantastic. I watched, entranced, as the performers pranced and paraded around, the impersonations shockingly good, while the comedy was sharp and the dance numbers were full of the glitz and glamour that you expected form a Las Vegas show.
In short, it was a freaking hit.
“Penelope,” Carson whispered, leaning in to speak close to my ear. “This is gonna blow the roof off this town! I can’t wait for the Soft Launch. We have already sold out for that night, and the Grand Opening as well. I can’t thank you enough for finding these ladies.”
“I didn’t do anything, really, Carson. Just introduced you to a friend.”
When the final act ended and the lights came up, I offered a standing ovation of one. Dolly smiled at me from her place at center stage, waving her arms and blowing kisses. I was waving frantically back at her when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I saw Stone standing at the end of the row of chairs, hands on his hips as he surveyed the stage. I couldn't help the thrill that ran through my system at seeing him, dressed in jeans and boots, looking every inch the sexy cowboy I had found him to be. I gave myself a moment to get my hormones in check before walking toward him and nudging him in the ribs with my elbow, bringing his attention back to me.
“What did you think, Cowboy?”
“I think we have a hit on our hands. The shareholders will be pleased.”
“Well, as long as we can please the shareholders, our jobs are complete, right?” I mumbled, only half joking.
“Unfortunate, but true, I’m afraid,” he replied, a frustrated frown on his face. I guess he would know, dealing with much more of that part of the business than I ever have. If - no, when - I get promoted, I am going to have to get much more acquainted with those aspects of Pennington Hotels.
Sounds delightful.
“Listen, Penelope,” he said awkwardly, crossing and uncrossing his arms, looking so uncomfortable that I frowned. Stone had a lot of different moods, but for the most part they were all born of a place of confidence. If he was looking nervous and uncomfortable, I suspected something big was troubling him. “I was hoping you would come to lunch with me. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
I swallowed the rapidly forming lump in my throat and forced a strained smile. “Of course,” I ground out. “Just let me finish up and I’ll be right with you.”
I turned away before he could respond, afraid of what he might have to say. I scurried over to where Dolly and Carson were going over some notes, my mind racing to come up with what Stone could want to discuss, but the only thing I could imagine would result in his level of discomfort was us. Not that there was anus, per se, but it would make sense that he would want to talk about whatever it was we had going on. I mean, I had spent the last month and a half sleeping with him.
And not just sleeping with him, but actuallysleepingwith him - in his bed. Waking up next to him, sharing coffee and showers and breakfast and everything. It was all so domestic. And it had been ridiculously easy and comfortable, as long as I didn’t look too far into the future. Because sitting together on the couch and squabbling over what to watch on Netflix was fine, hell, it was great, but it often took everything I had in me to remember that it was all going to end.
To remember to keep my heart out of things.
And I was terrified that I hadn’t succeeded.
