I want to tell him that I don’t bite, but something tells me he won’t believe that. I try to put him at ease instead. It’s not a trait that comes naturally to me. MacLaines are accustomed to demanding and receiving. We don’t take time to apologize or ask kindly. The world comes to us, or else it can go fuck itself.
That needs to change.
“Sorry to put you on the spot.” I plaster the warmest smile I can muster on my face. It takes effort given the gnashing anger roiling inside me. It’s not Geoff’s fault that Sterling is a bastard. Geoff is helping me. Geoff is a solution.
He’s also a man, and after my brother’s demands yesterday and Sterling’s manipulation, I’m ready to lash out. Geoff is an easy target, but I won’t let him be. I’m not that bitch that needs to be left behind. I’m not the girl who waited around for a man who only came back to throw her away again.
I don’t know who I am, but I’m determined to decide my own fate from now on, starting with Geoff here.
“Will you be staying?” Geoff interrupts my thoughts, and I blink at him.
“Excuse me?”
He pulls a handkerchief out and mops his forehead as he repeats the question.
“Does it matter?” I don’t feel like committing to anything. Not until I know if Malcolm will come looking for me. Not until I’ve seen the suite.
“We can set a key to expire,” he explains, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “We can also leave them open if you’d like to come and go or…”
Of course, that’s why he asked. It makes sense.
“Leave it open,” I say after a moment. “I have business in the city.”
“Let me show you up,” he offers. He’s out from behind the desk before I can refuse. Geoff glances around me. “Do you have bags?”
“No.” I flush even as I lift my head up. “I thought I better check everything out first. For all I know the place looks like Miss Havisham’s house.”
He gives me a quizzical look, but customer service wins out. “Very good. If you have a valet ticket, I can see to that.”
It turns out that living at the Eaton includes in and out privileges. That’s a relief, since I have no idea how much is in my bank account or how long it will last. Sterling came here to ruin my family. That much is clear to me now. There’s a certain poetic justice to it. He’ll be living in his penthouse pedestal, staring smugly down at the MacLaines on the street below.
“You have use of the private elevators. We reserve them for our penthouse floors,” he explains, leading me past the bank of elevators in the lobby to a discreetly hidden set of golden doors. “Your key will call the elevator.”
When it arrives, it’s mercifully empty. I need a moment away from the bustle of the lobby, away from the couple clinging to one another as they speak to a wedding planner, away from the mother lovingly chasing after her toddler, away from people. But Geoff fills the silence with a constant stream of information on the hotel. He tells me about the pool and the spa and the member lounge reserved for platinum elite guests. I guess owning part of the joint secures me those privileges.
“Are there many other families who own suites?” I interrupt a lesson on how to use the hotel’s wireless internet.
“Only the Eaton family. The other suites are reserved for high profile guests.”
Translation: people with more money than common sense and a desperate need to show off. I’d forgotten that Cyrus’s family has a suite here. I’m not sure how that’s possible given what happened the last time I was here.
I might not have set foot in my family’s suite in the last ten years, but I have been on this floor since.
Then, I wasn’t the one holding the key. I shake off the horrible memory as the elevator reaches our destination. The past is in the past. I need to leave it behind.
I need to leave him behind.
“Everything is fully stocked and refreshed daily.” Geoff leads me to a door marked with a polished brass placard inscribed with the number 614.
I hesitate on the threshold after he unlocks the door with the keycard. Somehow stepping across it feels like I’ve drawn a line in the sand. The truth is that I don’t have other options. At least, none that don’t include willfully turning a blind eye to my brother’s demands or running back to Sterling, a man who clearly hates me.
The suite isn’t like I remember. Of course, it’s been a decade since I came here. I stop a few feet in and stare at my new home. It’s been redone recently. The television in the living area is the newest technology. The linen sofa looks like it’s gotten less ass than a virgin. It’s all lovely and tasteful—and so like my mother. I feel at home, and I hate it. There’s little touches of her everywhere. I can almost swear I smell her perfume. I turn as a shadow passes in the corner, half expecting to find her there, but it’s only my imagination.
“Is everything…okay?” Geoff asks, glancing around. “We’ll send up housekeeping to freshen the sheets and towels.”
“When were they last changed?” I murmur absently, beginning to wander around.
“This morning.”
I stop and shake my head. “There’s no need to send them up. I have everything I need.”
“Room service is available, naturally. Anything you order will be included on your monthly bill.”
“Bill?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Incidentals and residence fees are billed to the account on file,” he explains. “It’s part of the arrangement.”
“Of course.” That makes sense, although I can’t believe my father kept this place all these years, paying fees on a penthouse
