Font Size
Line Height

Page 42 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)

TWENTY-NINE

ROWAN

The next morning is packed with trying to ensure Jacob Barlow doesn’t leave us a horrible review, much less sue us after his suite was broken into, and speaking with the local police to ensure the report is filed.

I also wanted to confirm they have noted the previous issues we’ve experienced: once we find out who is doing the sabotage, I sure as fuck plan to press charges to the full extent.

This means that, unfortunately, I don’t get to have breakfast with Josie as I requested; instead, I send a breakfast platter up to her room as an apology, along with a note explaining that I’ve realized I don’t have her number yet.

Normally, having to blow off plans for work wouldn’t bother me, since my career has always taken priority.

However, as is happening more and more since Josie entered my life, I wish I had a normal job, or at the very least, a healthier work-life balance.

It also makes me realize that I am in much, much deeper than I had been telling myself—not just for the last week, but for the last year.

Still, there’s something about finally crossing that line in my head, of admitting that I don’t care whatever her agenda is, I just want her, that makes me finally admit it to myself.

That realization, mixed with the way rage simmered in my veins at the sight of her dancing with someone else, brought me to the conclusion that there’s no fucking hope in staying away from her. What’s the point of pretending?

I’ve spent the last week and a half trying to avoid her, and last night, at seeing her in the arms of Dax, something snapped.

Fuck decency.

Fuck what is “right.”

Fuck work and needing to focus on nothing but hitting some invisible milestone I’m starting to understand I’ll never truly be happy with.

Last night, I felt more fulfilled having Josie in my arms than I ever have by any professional accomplishment in my life.

Even more, knowing that at some point today I plan on making time to see her, dragging her into a corner and kissing her breathless, actually pushed me to be more productive than usual and finish what’s necessary for the day early, meaning all I have to do for the day are a handful of phone meetings.

Like the seemingly obsessive man I am, I keep a tab open while I’m on one of those calls, tracking Josie and Rory’s room number so I can see if and when they sign into one of the restaurants or order something from a bar with the intention of either pulling up the cameras to watch her until I can make time to meet up with her.

One of the marketing execs is droning on during what I think is a useless weekly board meeting that should really be an email when that tab pings: Rory and Josie just checked into one of the more casual restaurants on the property for lunch.

Lunch. I check the time and my schedule, realizing it’s eleven, and my next call is at one.

I could take lunch off, right?

Everyone has to eat, after all. Additionally, I could use it as an opportunity to get a sense of the restaurant, mingle with the staff for a bit, and see how they’re doing. With everything going on, it’s almost impossible not to spend time at the various locations. Right ?

“Hey, something came up, I actually have to head out,” I say, interrupting the drawn-out play-by-play conversation of someone’s most recent golf game. “I have last-minute lunch plans.”

Annette gives me a soft smile, probably understanding my true intention, and nods slightly.

“But I was just getting to the best part!” Jeff Dower says with a faux disappointed groan that isn’t as faux as he wants to make it out to be.

“He is finally getting a life, let the man live,” Annette says. “Go, Rowan. I don’t want to even see you online for two hours.”

I don’t ask how she knows I’m on my way to Josie; instead, I just accept that in the past week, nothing makes sense, and maybe I should just take it as it comes.

Hell, maybe this is just what balance feels like. I wish everyone goodbye and close my computer before heading out. A few minutes later, I’m entering the restaurant, not even bothering to check in with the hostess.

Upon scanning the room, I see her sitting at a table in a little yellow sundress, with little bows tied at her shoulders, and a pair of sunglasses on top of her head.

Rory sits across from her, with Daniel leaning on the table.

He seems to have just told a joke because her head tips back, a hand going to her chest as a laugh leaves her lips.

But it’s not real.

I don’t know if last night made me an expert in all things Josephine Montgomery or if I’ve always had this specific knack, but something about the tone of it is fake.

I watch for a moment longer as the scene plays out, and not for the first time, I see it: it’s all off.

Some kind of tactic, winning him over, playing into her beauty to get something… but what?

I still haven’t figured out what game Josie is playing. For an ugly split second, I wonder if she’s playing with me, as well, but I brush that off, unwilling to even contemplate it.

It’s clear to me Josie has some kind of underlying mission or goal, but I know somewhere deep in my gut that I am a hitch in her plans, something fucking it up, just like she’s messing with my ability to concentrate on work when I need to.

I think in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve grown to like that, to like that we’re on some kind of fucked up but even playing field.

I walk over and interrupt their conversation, putting a hand on the soft, warm skin of her back. Her body jolts, and she glances over her shoulder, alarm written over it before the look melts into something softer. Sweeter. A kind of happiness that I’m there washing over her face.

“Rowan. I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says with a smile, turning her body a bit more towards me.

“Hey, Daniel. Can you go up to Mr. and Mrs. Barlow’s new room and check that they’re completely satisfied with everything, without any needs or concerns?

Whatever they want, it’s on us for their entire stay.

And I want you to make sure you’re checking in regularly.

After last night, we need to ensure the rest of their stay is a dream.

” Daniel’s jaw tightens before he looks down at Josie, or, more accurately, her breasts, before his gaze moves back to me, and he nods.

“On it. See you ladies later.” Josie wiggles her fingers at him as he turns and walks away, while I gesture towards the table.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

“Here?” Rory asks with skepticism in her voice, and I hesitate.

“I mean, I can just?—”

She lets out a laugh before shaking her head. “No, I’m just surprised. You’ve been making an Olympic sport out of avoiding my girl,” Rory says with a wide smile and a tip of her head towards Josie. “Except for last night, of course.”

I know they had some kind of girl talk. It’s expected, of course, since they’re clearly close, but I still feel an embarrassed blush bloom on my cheeks and my blood heat at the reminder of what happened last night.

She does this to me, Josie—makes me feel like some teenage kid with a crush and an incessant boner.

“Rory, stop! You’re going to scare him off!” Josie moves a chair next to her, tugging it out, then patting the seat. “We’d love for you to eat with us.”

“Sorry, sorry; he makes it too easy! Look at him! He’s turning red,” she says as I take a seat.

“Well, be nice.” Then she turns to me. “So, what are you doing here?” Josie asks, and I smile, leaning back in my seat.

“I figured I’d take some time away from my desk. Get some fresh air. Saw you were out to lunch, and I figured I’d come by.”

Josie smiles, then looks to Rory. “He watches me on the CCTV, apparently. Likes to see what I’m doing.”

Rory lets out a boisterous laugh. “Oh, he’ll fit right in with you and me.”

Josie gives her wide eyes before turning back to me. “You’re going to…take time off?” she asks, her brows furrowing. “Seems a little out of character for you.”

“It is, but I think it’s long overdue,” I say with a smile, then sigh.

“Plus, I uh, had a conversation with my boss yesterday, before the party. We talked about you.” Her eyebrows lift, asking a question without saying anything, and for a moment, I think I see a flash of something—worry, maybe?

But then I realize she is probably worried about my boss not approving of this, so I explain quickly.

“Upper management fraternizing with guests is a bit of a gray area. It’s technically out of the question for the employee, but I’m not really a resort employee. I wanted to run it by her before…”

“And…?”

I give her a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Honestly, I think she’s relieved to find out I’m not a complete robot. She essentially kicked me off the team call we were on, insisting I don’t come back until my meeting later today.”

Josie lets out a loud laugh, her head tipping back and her dark hair tumbling in glossy waves.

“So she’s cool with you fucking a guest?” Rory asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Rory!” Josie chides her friend, a pretty pink blush blooming over her cheeks and creeping down her neck and chest. I’d give a lot right now to be able to see just how far down it goes.

“What?” Rory asks with a shrug, like it’s not a strange question to ask a relative stranger.

“For one, we haven’t even fucked,” Josie says, giving her a deadpan look.

“And whose fault is that?” Rory asks, and watching the two argue is kind of fun.

I sit back with a smile, crossing my arms on my chest, and for a tiny, insane moment, I think I could really fucking like this.

Spending time with Josie and her friend, watching them argue back and forth, has made me realize that her need to argue doesn’t stop with just me.

A sense of fitting in, of unpressured enjoyment, seeps through me, and it concerns me for a moment how unfamiliar it feels.

Ad If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.