Page 26 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)
EIGHTEEN
ROWAN
I was already in a bad mood this morning, but I held a semblance of hope that it would be helped by a nice hike.
I picked this location with the sole vision of having hiking excursions, and each time I’m here, I try to book at least one.
This seemed like a great opportunity not only to get into the open air, but also to keep an eye on the various activities.
Except, when I arrive at the meeting spot, I see familiar curves wrapped in a light blue sports set I’d like to peel off her despite my better sense, thick dark hair in a high ponytail, and a wide smile on her lips as she chats with other guests.
I would like a single fucking day without Josie stirring my mind up, much less my cock, distracting me from the issue at hand.
But these days, I think that would be asking for far too much.
She’s also chatting with Horace , who, I just found out, I’m going to have to deal with a whole lot more now that he’s agreed to stop his ridiculous decision to start his own rival resort and instead invest in Daydream.
For a split second, I contemplate turning around and getting started working early, but then Sheila spots me and calls my name, so I have no choice but to join.
“Rowan, my boy,” Horace says with a wide smile, and I fight everything in me not to grimace at this man calling me a boy . The woman he’s been toting around all week is standing to the side of their circle, clearly pretending not to be fangirling over Gene Michaels.
Gene is a reminder of the call I received late last night from Leo, the one where he told me that yet another tip had been leaked, though thankfully, there were no photos to accompany it.
While he understands that there’s only so much we can do, he made it clear that this was something he would like solved sooner rather than later, as if I didn’t have enough on my fucking plate.
“Good morning, Horace. Didn’t expect to see you here,” I say, putting a hand out to the man and shaking.
“Well, a little birdie over here told me she was most excited for these hikes of yours, so I figured I’d give them a go.”
“You’re going to love it, Horace, trust me. It’s perfect weather for it,” Josie says with a smile, and she’s not wrong. It’s a bit overcast, making the air a bit cooler than normal, especially with the sun not quite up yet.
Before I can say anything else, Jeff, who is running the excursion, starts to speak, telling us the rules and guidelines before we take off. As much as I want to settle into the back of the group and pretend I’m alone, I find myself walking between Horace and Josie.
“I still think this would have been a better golf course. Don’t you, Josie?” Horace says a few minutes into the hike. I’ve been regretting coming with every step I take; any hopes of a peaceful, quiet hike are long gone, as Josie and Horace chat nonstop.
Josie looks around the woods with a content smile before shaking her head.
“Have to disagree, Horace. I love the woods. Love a hike. Plus, it attracts a different crowd. You can find a golf course anywhere, and, no offense, but golf is mostly for rich men who want to network. A place like this is meant to enjoy the outdoors with someone special, not try and get new clients.” She shrugs and smiles once more, and I can tell that she has him wrapped in her web.
Horace is watching her like she’s some genius explaining the ways of the world.
“Plus, hot girls like hiking. Golf is kind of stuffy and boring, and the outfits are much more limiting with country club rules.”
I almost say that I don’t think Horace would argue about short skirts or low-cut tops the way some golf clubs do, but stop myself when a loud booming laugh leaves him, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.
“And this is why Rowan gets the big bucks, I suppose. He understands the market better than I ever could.” His eyes graze over Josie in a way that makes my fingers clench into themselves before he smiles. “And you are definitely the market we’d want here.”
“Well, I will absolutely be telling all of my friends about this place, that’s for sure,” she says, somehow knowing the right thing to say. When her eyes shift to me and light with a conspiratorial smile, I wonder if maybe she’s doing it to help me.
But why the fuck would she be doing that?
“Hopefully they’re all as young and gorgeous as you are,” he says, and for some reason, I have the all-consuming desire to push the older man off the trail.
“Horace,” Regina says from ten or so feet ahead, before I have to get a hold on myself.
Horace shakes his head with a small smile and nods at the woman. “Gotta go to my lady friend,” he says. “She’s getting a little jealous of the attention I’m giving our girl Josie. You’ve got her from here, don’t you, Rowan?”
I nod. “Yeah, I got her,” I tell him before he moves, grateful to be free of him as I watch him speed up a bit to catch up to Regina, who is still glaring at Josie.
“Thank you,” I say low after a few minutes of silence as we move up an incline, my eyes locked to my feet, both to avoid Josie’s eye and to watch my steps. “You didn’t have to stick up for me.”
“I wasn’t,” she says. “I just think a golf course would be stupid. Look how gorgeous it is out here. Knock all of this down for a stupid putting green? Gross. And selfishly, I like to hike.”
A beat passes, and I speak before I have the chance to think better of it.
“I wouldn’t have expected that.”
She looks at me, her head tipping to the side in an assessing manner. “Why not?”
I shrug but answer anyway. “Doesn’t seem like your thing.
” I don’t know why I’m so invested in what her thing might be, but I’m finding more and more I’m just that: invested in Josie, in what she likes, what she doesn’t, in what she’s doing, and who she’s with.
Lately, she’s all I can think about, despite the fact that I have more than enough to think and worry about. “You seem to be full of surprises.”
“That’s kind of the point.” She smiles, her breathing a bit heavy from the steep incline. “I like keeping people on their toes, getting them to underestimate me. Makes things much more entertaining.”
“Well, you’re succeeding with me. I never know what to expect when it comes to you.
” It’s more truth than I intend to spill, but it feels like the right answer when she gives me a satisfied smile.
“So you hike. You go on luxury vacations. You get free drinks from assholes who don’t deserve you giving them the time of day. ”
She raises an eyebrow at me with a small smile. “You mean assholes like you?”
I can’t help it: she got me, since I was one of the assholes she conned into buying her free drinks. I return the smile.
“Yeah. Assholes like me. So, what else do you do? What do you do for work?”
“I’m a micro influencer on social media. I take pictures and make videos about my life and post them. I get paid from brand deals and whatnot.”
It’s the truth, something I’ve known since I searched for her when I found her social media channels with pictures of her around Hudson City and at different luxury locations, but despite that, it doesn’t quite fit.
Despite the shit I give her about being a gold digger, looking for some rich and powerful man to fund her expensive lifestyle, the more I get to know her, the less I believe it.
It doesn’t fit her, somehow. I believe she likes nice things, but something in my gut tells me she likes earning them herself, not being given them.
“Do you like it?” I ask, trying to make sense of it, and she smiles.
“Yeah, it’s a blast. I get to keep my own schedule, get dolled up and take pictures of myself, and make money doing it.
Brands send me free stuff. I get to go on trips like this and write it off because I’m making content.
” Well, I guess that explains how she can afford to come to a place like this.
“And you make a living doing that?” I can’t quite wrap my head around it.
She nods. “I do well for myself.”
“That’s…that’s impressive,” I say, and she shrugs. It’s then that I realize she isn’t comfortable talking about herself, another red flag I should be taking note of, but I can’t seem to hold any of them against her despite my best efforts.
“I mean, it’s nothing like you,” she says, distracting me.
“Me?”
“The youngest VP of Operations that Daydream has ever had. That’s much more impressive.”
My brow furrows with confusion because while I told her my job, I didn’t tell her anything else. “How did you know that?”
And for a short moment, I see it: a flash of panic. Not embarrassment or nerves because I caught her Googling me, but panic that she’s been…what? Caught?
As quickly as it came, it’s gone, hiding beneath that pretty, ditzy mask she wears, the one that is so fake it actually makes me angry when she puts it on.
It’s the one she wears when she’s on those dates, the one that I’ve watched melt away a handful of times when she goes toe-to-toe with me, the one that she set aside that night in the bar.
I shouldn’t be so aware of Josie and her different expressions, but the truth of the matter is, while I’ve been intrigued by this woman since she turned me down six years ago, I’ve been obsessed with Josephine Montgomery since Stephen Jones invited me to crash her date with him, since he walked off and she showed me her true self, since I realized this woman is the first I’ve met who can hold her own and never backs down.
It only got worse each time I’ve bumped into her since, but my obsession came to a head when I heard her moan my name. She’s so unlike any other woman I’ve met, the ones who will do anything to impress me, to get a date with me, and try to lock me down, that I can’t help but be infatuated with her.
Except none of it adds up.
“Oh, Horace was going on and on about how amazing you were last night.”
When she lies, her dimple doesn’t come out.