“Let’s skip the stairs. I like the R&B station they have playing in the elevators.” He winked as the door opened, and waved a hand for her to step inside the car before him.
She did, giving him a playful jab to his gut as she passed by. “You’re at the gym every day. Don’t slack just because it’s the weekend.”
“Not all of us are as diligent as you, Des. I go to the gym every morning because there’s one in our building. When I travel, I cut back on workouts.” He stood right next to her in the elevator, which wasn’t necessary since they were in the car alone.
He smelled good. It was the same fragrance with hints of sandalwood she always smelled on him, but today it seemed more prominent, more alluring. His boots today were chocolate brown, pants a shade lighter, and his button-front white shirt showed the RGF emblem on the right-hand side of his chest.
“You’re not going for anonymity, huh?”
When he stared at her quizzically, she nodded to his shirt. “Your face is familiar enough, but you could always lie if someone called you out. Wearing an RGF shirt so openly just connects more of the dots.”
He glanced down at his shirt and then back up to her when the elevator door opened. Again, he signaled for her to walk ahead of him before stepping out to join her in the bustling lobby.
“The key to not alerting people to who you are is to mingle like you don’t care. Besides, as you might recall, every guest attending this weekend was required to sign that nondisclosure agreement.” With that he looped his arm in hers and led them through the crowd of people either dressed to hit the slopes or heading to the resort’s restaurant for breakfast. A sign next to the front desk showed the Dear Lover logo—a white pen in hand centered inside a gray heart—and the words Morning Sessions right next to an arrow.
“We’re this way,” he told her and led them in that direction.
Five minutes later they were inside another room with wall-to-wall windows and a breathtaking view of the mountains lined with snow. There were crimson-colored beanbag chairs in pairs around the room. On one wall was a long dark wood table filled with mimosas. At the center of the room was a podium and microphone, and behind that was a projector screen.
“Badges?” a petite woman asked before they could fully enter the space.
Maurice pulled his from his pocket and held it up, while Desta was so busy looking around the room, he had to nudge her before she reached into her back pocket to show her own. He’d been right to remind her about the NDA they’d signed. It was part of the registration process, and she’d read it a couple times before affixing her signature. She thought it was a good extra layer of privacy offered by Dear Lover. Of course, it hadn’t occurred to her that someone as notable as Maurice would be a client. Not considering millionaires, celebrities or other well-known people would be searching for companionship may have been naïve on her part. At any rate, this weekend was a private event, so in essence whatever happened in the Finger Lakes stayed in the Finger Lakes. Still, while that form was meant to be reassuring to all Dear Lover’s clients, she knew firsthand that rules were often overlooked for the sake of a good story.
They were directed to the side of the room closest to the windows to find a seat. “You okay?” he asked, pointing to an empty set of beanbags.
“Yeah. This is, uh, not what I expected.”
“What’d you think it was going to be, desks and chairs? Pencils and paper for us to take notes on the lecture?” He plopped down way too happily onto his bag, then looked up at her with a toothy smile.
She went down a little slower, not because she thought she might fall but because her fitted pants were more fashionable than practical. Bending to sit just about on the floor wasn’t what she thought she’d be doing this morning. “Oh come on, you gotta admit this is a different type of setup even for you.”
“Yeah,” he said, moving around in the chair like he was a kid trying to feel every bean inside the bag. “But it’s kinda fun.”
With a roll of her eyes, she shook her head and turned her attention to the scenery. The sight of fluffy snow draped over the mountains was like a balm to the turmoil riling in her stomach. Her efforts to combat the memories of Gordon that insisted on flooding her mind were proving unsuccessful. It was strange because this wasn’t the first time she’d dated since walking away from him. Of course, she’d never been with a coworker or a man who was the face of an international fashion house, but that was just a small detail. Right?
“You wanna ski after this?”
“Huh?” She returned her attention to Maurice with a start.
He pointed to the window. “You’re looking out there like you can’t wait to hit the slopes. When this is done, we can change and go out if you want.”
“Oh. Sure. I haven’t really been anywhere outside the city in a while, so the scenery is pretty nice.”
“How haven’t you been out of the city? There’s a mandatory four-week vacation rule at the company.”
“I know. I just prefer to do staycations.” Actually, she preferred to save face in front of her family, but Maurice didn’t need those details.
“And that means you just sit in your house for four weeks?” Of course, he couldn’t believe that she found comfort in solitude and actually enjoyed being in her private space, since he was the
