Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 40969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“Celeste.” I just walked through the door, my back to the crowd, inserting the key and sliding the deadbolt to the right, locking it, when a deep voice with a light rasp to the tone calls my name. Wylde’s voice causes a shiver to slide down my spine. Not a touch, not even a whisper of a stroke, just my name rolling off his lips.
“Hey, uh... Mr. Hayes.” I spin around. He’s closer, closer than earlier when we first met and shook hands. Wylde looks, well, wild. His hair is messier than earlier, there are dark circles under his eyes, lines in the corner of his eyes, and his mouth tight, like he is upset to be standing here in front of me.
“Wylde. Call me Wylde, Celeste,” he responds, tilting his head to the side before talking to someone else. “You got this? I’m going to walk Celeste to her car.” My eyes move to the dark recesses of where someone else is standing, the burnt ember at the end of a cigarette lighting up the mysterious man.
“Yeah, I’ll meet up with you later,” the unknown man replies, leaving just as quickly as he appeared, a trail of smoke following in his wake.
“You don’t have to do that.” I look over his shoulder, trying to figure out what happened to the noise that was there earlier. There’s a crowd now, people blocking the view, along with men wearing black shirts, Wylde’s Hotel and Casino Security emblazoned on the back.
“Yeah, I do. Didn’t realize you were still here. Security is light tonight, a mistake on my part, one that will be remedied as soon as the next crew gets here. If you’ve got everything locked up and are ready to go, I’ll escort you out.” I’m not sure if he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart or out of feeling obligated. Either way, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s not walking through the hotel alone; it’s the parking garage. And yes, it’s lit the entire way; until you make it closer to the wall, which just so happens to be near your driver’s side door that you need to get in.
“I’m ready. I am going to ask Monica or Pierre if I can change the type of lock to a keypad. That way, there’s not fifteen other people who have a master key and I can change the code for certain people and be alerted when they lock and unlock the door,” I rattle on as if Wylde doesn’t know how it works.
“I’ll have maintenance on it tomorrow, Monday at the latest. Do you make it a habit of working this late every night?” I’d like to throw my snarky attitude at him, saying ‘well, duh, of course not; it’s not like we do massages and facials well past the witching hour.’
“No, but I didn’t think it would be smart to tell potential clients it was past closing time when while I do love what I do, I also like making money.” I refrain from saying what I want, figuring that wouldn’t be a spectacular idea to do to your boss, especially on the first day of opening and meeting him. There’s something that’s glaring in the forefront of my mind not to make an ass out of myself.
“Touché,” Wylde agrees. We’re walking side by side, our arms grazing one another’s every now and then, not on purpose, not on my part; that would be bad, so bad. That all changes when we make it inside the hotel, having walked around the pool in a Wylde-induced fog, especially when his hand touches my lower back, causing me to almost trip over my own feet. He must not feel the stutter in my step as we keep walking as if this is the most natural thing in the world that the Wylder Hayes is walking his employee through the hotel lobby when everyone knows it’s not.
“You really don’t have to walk me to my car.” I attempt to let him off the hook. Really, it’s for my own sake. The things Wylde makes me feel are not normal, and it’s not something I’d have thought would happen in my wildest imagination.
“It’s not up for discussion. While you’re at work, you’re my responsibility. I saw the crowd getting rowdy on the security feed and noticed you were still inside the spa. Any given thing could have happened, and it would be on me. I’d rather there not be another incident where you’re potentially in harm’s way.” Wylde’s hand is still on my lower back. I shouldn’t feel the heat searing me through the fabric, yet that’s what happens, and he doesn’t move it either. Not when he waves his card over the access panel to retrieve the elevator and it opens almost instantly. That’s probably because we aren’t using the main or employee elevator; we’re using Wylde’s private access.