God, I hope so.
"No. I didn't."
He smiles. "Good. Neither did I."
The doors open and we step inside. Dominic stands close, his fingers sliding over the back of my hand. "There's a team waiting for you in the boardroom."
I stop. "What? Why?"
"I'd like you to share your ideas for the anniversary gala and get them implemented."
"You're kidding." I panic. The event isn't that far away. There's no time to make changes now.
His hand slides into mine with a gentle squeeze. "I'm confident in you. Your ideas? Make them happen."
The door opens, but my legs won't move. I'm thrilled and horrified that he took me seriously. Feeling like I'm in a fog, I walk beside him to the conference room. Right before we enter, I realize we're still holding hands. I let go, though I desperately want to hang on.
Dominic, being him, simply saunters in and takes command of introductions while I hover beside him with my heart two seconds away from full-blown cardiac arrest.
"Juliet Evans, please meet the team from our events department." Dom makes the introductions and then leaves.
"Come and see me when you're finished." His eyes drop briefly to my mouth before he exits, leaving me standing at the head of the table in a barely-controlled panic.
The women are looking at me, warmly. Expectantly.
I need a defibrillator.
"I'm … just an intern," I stammer.
Oh. My. God.
Get it together, Juliet!
"However," I continue, sending up a silent prayer of thanks to my father, "I'm well-acquainted with the Rexford's history and heritage and deeply invested in the hotel's continued success, so I have a few ideas for the gala that Mr. Rexford thought we could explore."
Once the words are out, I feel stronger, more confident. I glance down at the table and notice a stack of old books next to a paper with my name on it. Gilded script on the top book reads, Guest Book. He got me the hotel's historic guest books!
"Mr. Rexford spoke highly of you," one of the women says, Diane, I think her name is. She's older, intimidating, but her smile is warm. "We're excited to hear what you have in mind."
My throat goes tight, but I swallow down my emotion. I suppose I always figured Dom wasn't really listening to me whenever I talked about my love for the history and architecture of the city. Instead, he's encouraging me and giving me input into a major business event.
"I want to go back to the eighteen hundreds," I say. "And show the history of The Rexford in a way that will have people talking about and remembering what real, classic luxury is."
I run my fingers over the guest book. "Three movies were filmed here. Countless celebrities and royalty have stayed in our rooms. The Rexford survived the Great Fire in 1871 and acted as an underground speakeasy during Prohibition in the 1920's and early 30's."
I have them hooked already. The women look at me intently, fueling me. I go on; all the ideas I've been pondering spill out.
The meeting takes off from there. An hour and a half later, we have a plan. Two evenings before the gala, we'll screen films that feature The Rexford, offering hors d'oeuvres from the posh new menu and vintage wines. The night before will be a 1920's themed evening, complete with servers in period costume, a whiskey bar, and a throwback drink menu featuring cocktails served in the forbidden speakeasy. The gala will feature entrees from the historic menu.
I have pages of notes by the time we're done, and a promise from the team to get to work on everything immediately. They all exit, heading back to their offices, and I'm left alone in the conference room. I take a minute to look out the windows and gather my composure.
I did it! My first big meeting, and the first time I've ever presented something like that. I just hope my ideas are what this place needs-and that Dominic will be proud of me. Excited to tell him about it, I head to his office and knock lightly on the door.
"Come in."
"Guess what?" I practically bounce as I enter the room, I'm so full of energy, but an unfamiliar voice makes me stop.
"Well, aren't you just a breath of fresh air?"
It's not Dominic. It's Alexander, kicked back in his brother's chair with his feet on the desk. My excitement fades.
"I'm sorry," I say, trying to keep my tone neutral. "I didn't realize you were here."
Alexander puts his hands behind his head and gives me a wolfish grin.
"Just waiting for the king," he smirks. "You know how it goes. Then again, maybe you don't. I can't imagine anyone keeps you waiting."
I collect myself. Alexander is an interloper, and Dom definitely doesn't want him here. Still, I want to know what's going on with him. "I can come back later," I offer, and head back towards the door.
But I keep my steps slow enough that he has time to watch my ass as I retreat. I hate using myself as bait like this, but if my plan works, Dominic's brother might tell me something I could use later.
"Why? Stay. Sit." He gestures to a chair like he owns the place. Or at least, more than twenty percent. "Let's chat. I have to admit, I'm curious about you."
I find that hard to believe, but I play along in the hope of gathering information. "Really? Why?"
Xander gives me a knowing look. "Dominic is … different around you. I'd like to know more about the woman who managed to bring out the better side of my brother."
Okay, I wasn't expecting that. I take a seat. Truth be told, I'm curious about Xander, too.
I tilt my head to study him. He really is the opposite of his brother: relaxed where Dom is tense, charming while Dom stays cool at all times. I clear my throat and attempt to steer Xander's interest away from me. "Dominic seems … complex."
Xander breaks into a grin. "That's just a nice way to say he's a difficult asshole." His words are light, as if he's joking. But I can tell, he's not. "You're diplomatic, Juliet. I like that about you."
"He's not an asshole." I find myself defending Dom. "He's demanding. There's a difference."
"Is there?" He gives me a look. "We've had our disagreements, so let's just say my perspective is-"
"Biased?"
He laughs. "Perhaps." He reaches for the drink he has on the desk, a glass of something I'm betting isn't iced tea. "You should have seen my grandfather fawn all over him. He was always the favorite."
Now we're getting somewhere. "That sounds rough, especially when you're young. Is that why you went off racing in Europe?" I ask.
"No, sweetheart. That was for the beautiful women, like you." He raises his glass in a flirtatious toast.
I smile and roll my eyes. "Come on."
He shrugs. "It was something to do. I mean, it's not like Dom would let me be a part of his empire here."
I can hear the bitterness in his tone. Interesting. Dom feels like he's had all the weight of responsibility fall on his shoulders, while Xander resents not having a chance to work at the top. It's a shame they've never been able to find a balance together.
"It's too bad you stayed away for so long. But now that you're back, I hope you and Dominic can work things out," I say honestly.
Xander doesn't seem to absorb my words, nor their implications. "Do you have siblings, Juliet?"
"No. I always wished I did."
He smiles at me, but there's a hard glint in his eyes. "Then you wouldn't understand."
"Maybe not." I take a chance, and add, "But I do understand that feeling second-best could be heartbreaking."
There's silence. Xander doesn't acknowledge my comment at all. But when he swivels in the chair to pour another drink, I feel like he knows exactly what I'm saying.
"Dom likes to shut me out-always has, but I'm going to prove him wrong this time." His face is determined when he turns back to me. He raises his glass. "Cheers to difficult assholes."
But he's not looking at me – his gaze is behind me, to someone in the office doorway.
I know even before turning who it is. Dominic stands there, hands in his pockets, looking pissed.
Guilt washes over me. Sure, I'm not doing anything wrong, but I can tell from the stormy look on his face that Dom thinks I'm fraternizing with the enemy.
"There's a problem at the Paris hotel." He gives Xander a sharp glare. "We're leaving immediately."
Alexander sets down his glass. He actually looks pleased. "Great. I'll get my bag and-"
"Not you." Dom dismisses him with a snort. "The last time you stepped foot in that hotel, you left ten thousand dollars worth of damage and a harassment lawsuit. I'll be handling this alone. With you, Juliet."
Wait, what? Did he just say … Paris?
"Go home and pack," he adds, giving me a private smile. "Our flight leaves tonight."
Chapter Seven
I barely have time to rush home and pack before a driver is at my door to take me to the airport, where Dominic's private plane is waiting for us. I can't believe it. My nerves are racing as I walk up the steps and into the plane's luxurious cabin. I have no idea what to expect except that I'm going to Paris.