Page 141 of The Playboy

Macon

We will tonight.

Me

I was so worried about what I was going to do post-graduation, and now, I have the best thing waiting for me.

Macon

LA is going to look so fucking gorgeous on you.

Me

Macon … I was talking about you.

Macon

Even better—fuck yes.

Me

I’ll see you at the front entrance of the hotel at seven. Don’t worry, I won’t be late. ;)

Macon

To quote you, I’m going to make a weird comment, but hear me out, LOL. I’m really looking forward to seeing you walk through the lobby without your hand shielding your eyes and your face pointed down. I don’t ever want you to hide again, Brooklyn.

Me

<3 every word of this.

* * *

There was something extremely special about driving to the Spade Hotel for the very first time, parking by the front since valet wasn’t yet operational, and taking a few moments to admire the grand entrance, the buildings, the symbolism behind the structure.

I’d come a few minutes early just so I could do this.

Because long before I’d met Macon, I’d watched his crew clear out this whole piece of land, witnessing each phase of construction. Now that I knew who was behind the build-out and the blood, sweat, tears, and love he’d poured into it, this project meant everything to me.

Macon wasn’t the type of executive who sat in his suite and barked orders. He worked tirelessly, barely stopping to eat, hardly sleeping.

I admired that.

I respected that.

And I hoped whoever managed me in my new role took the same approach, leading me with just as much enthusiasm, dedication, and passion as Macon directed his team. That when they spoke about the Six Sigma practices that we were going to implement in some of the older hotels, starting with Beverly Hills, they did it with a smile, just like Macon did whenever he talked about this hotel.

I could see that smile now as I began to walk toward the overpass, where valet would eventually be located, Macon standing directly beneath it. As his eyes connected with mine, a feeling began to fill my body.

An emotion.

A tingle.

A surge of electricity that started at my feet and rose to my face.

God, that man was beautiful.

But it wasn’t his handsomeness that caused my heart to hammer away or my limbs to feel numb or my lips to spread so wide that my cheeks hurt.

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