My nipples didn’t seem to care that he was an arrogant ass.
He didn’t ask for my name; he hadn’t cared to. I didn’t even know his, since he’d never offered it.
I looked at my phone, and saw it was already two o’clock. There had been no word from Genevieve.
Was this a test? Was she waiting for me to decide one way or another, refusing to coerce, instead leaving the choice to me?
It would make her life easier if I walked out of The Rex and never returned.
I opened my clutch and pulled out a few bills and left them next to my water glass and then I hopped off the stool.
The blonde reservationist at the front counter was in the middle of a phone call, and I impatiently waited for her to give me her attention. She smiled at me as she hung up.
“Hello, ma’am. Checking in?”
“Actually, I’m trying to get ahold of Genevieve.”
I watched the desk agent’s blue eyes widen in understanding. “Absolutely. Who shall I say is calling?”
“She knows.”
The woman lifted the receiver and pressed a button. A moment later she said, “Hello? Yes. I have someone for Genevieve.” Her eyes rolled over my appearance as she waited for the person on the other end to finish talking.
“Yes, that’s correct. Great. I’ll send her up.” She placed the phone down and looked at me. “Take the farthest elevator and press the button that says WR.”
I frowned. “WR?”
“It’s the Whisky Room.”
“Thank you,” I said, wasting no time in trekking across the lobby to the elevators.
As I ascended the floors, my pulse drummed in my ears. I had to expect the unexpected with Gen. I was prepared for that now.
The elevator doors opened to a view of the Dallas skyline. It felt like I was floating among the clouds and the world was at my feet. It stole my breath.
I stepped out onto the dark stained wood floors into a room that was filled with leather chairs, couches, and coffee tables. An unlit gas fireplace graced the center of the room. The Whisky Room was deeply masculine and smelled of pipe and cigar tobacco, sandalwood, and leather.
Genevieve sat alone at the bar off to the right, a tumbler in her hand, and a slight smile on her face. She took a sip of her drink as I approached.
“Why is it called the Whisky Room?” I asked as I strode to her. I placed my clutch on the wooden bar, perched on the stool next to her, and crossed my legs.
“It’s what we serve the most of. Scotch whisky, Irish whiskey, American whiskey. There are actual casks of it through that door.” She pointed to a discreet wooden door that nearly blended into the wall. “Including Flynn Campbell’s own signature scotch, SINNERS.”
That’s what he’d been drinking.
“Flynn Campbell,” I murmured. “The owner of The Rex Hotel empire.”
She inclined her elegantly styled head. “What’s your poison?”
“What are you drinking?”
“A glass of SINNERS, of course,” she said with a wry smile.
“Then I’ll have that, please. The same way you’re drinking it.”
She set her glass down and hopped up. Genevieve went behind the bar and grabbed a clean rocks glass, and then swiped a bottle of SINNERS, popped the cork, and poured me a stout, three-finger glass.
Shit’s about to get real.
Genevieve set the bottle down, slid the glass across the bar to me, and then came back around to sit on her stool.
I frowned as I grasped the tumbler and looked into the glass of amber beauty.
“Something wrong?” Genevieve asked.
“No. It’s just—well—you’re treating me differently than you did in your office.”
She reached for her glass again but didn’t move to take a sip. “I’m not often wrong about first impressions. I’m still not sure I’m wrong about you, Sterling. I have my doubts that you’re cut out for this, but you didn’t leave the hotel, which means you’ve thought this over somewhat, and you took it upon yourself to ask to speak to me again. I’m still willing to give you a chance. If you want it.”
My hand grew slick around the glass, but I refused to fall at her feet to thank her.
“Want has nothing to do with it. I need this.”
“Fair enough.”
I finally lifted the glass of scotch to my nose and inhaled. Peat and citrus teased my senses. I took a sip and held it on my tongue a moment before swallowing.
Genevieve’s eyes studied me, but she didn’t ask what