If they haven’t helped themselves to it all already.
“I understand you’d like the whole floor below the uppermost floor, Mr. Masters.” The manager smiles sympathetically.
“…But those guests were already moved once so you could have the whole floor above them,” the concierge offers, looking over his glasses at me.
Making me smile because I can see his point now.
“Alright. How about the floor under that one?” I ask.
The concierge clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“We could just get a room,” Penelope pipes in. “Why do we need the whole floor of a hotel?” she asks, looking up at me with genuine interest.
Opening my mouth to correct her, I realize she’s absolutely right.
I feel suddenly stupid, but in my defense, because we have so many crew and staff for the live show, renting whole floors is what we do.
“We have an excellent suite on the seventeenth floor,” The concierge offers, swallowing when I shoot him an intense look.
“Lots of famous people have stayed in it…” he trails off before the manager shoos him away.
Penelope squeezes my hand, settling things and I can only shrug once we’re in the elevator.
Who knew you could just rent one suite?
“We’re not spending all day here anyway,” Penelope reminds me. I’ve already filled her in on my suspicions about my agent, my lawyer, and that asshole prison company CEO on the drive back to the city.
But the thought of forgetting everything, just for one more day is appealing once we see the suite.
It’s almost identical to the one I already have, just cozier.
Made for two. The concierge never mentioned it was a bridal suite either.
Something that makes us both cough a little as I fumbled with the key card at the door.
“We are coming back here later,” I tell Penelope with a knowing grin.
Taking the time to show her just a hint of what I have in store for her as we snuggle and kiss standing for a moment before ‘accidentally’ falling onto the huge bed.
“I could literally live in bed with you.” She sighs, and try as I might, it’s a fair while before we both regain our senses, focusing on the task at hand.
It’s a little easier for me to wait now. At least that’s what I try to tell myself.
I know Penelope is mine, I’ve claimed her and planted my seed.
But damn, if it isn’t hard to wait until the next time I can feel her shuddering on my cock again.
A few hours feels like a lifetime, especially with what we have to do outside of the bedroom.
“I’ll call Karlee,” she finally suggests, groaning as we shift apart.
Me, I’ve got some calls of my own to make.
My bank mainly. Just a friendly Sunday afternoon call to let them know I haven’t authorized any major transactions and to keep that information to themselves for now.
Also to let them know to call me if anyone does try to shift any money or change any agreements.
Until now I’ve left the management of my show business up to others, but I haven’t been totally irresponsible by letting them have complete control over all the money.
But seeing those three assholes, the way they were all smiles and shaking hands yesterday?
I wouldn’t put anything past them.
So far so good from what I can gather after my calls.
With Penelope looking almost unrecognizable until I remember, that’s how she looked a couple of days ago.
Even her shoulders slump forward as she drags her feet back into the room.
“What’s happened?” I ask, feeling more than just overly protective now.
I’m damned obsessive about her safety now.
My woman, mother to be of our children.
Anyone messes with her and they’ve got me to answer to, personally.
“What is it?” I growl, firmer now.
Not wanting to frighten her but if anything’s upset her, I need to know.
“Just my boss,” she groans, flattening her mouth, trying not to frown for my benefit but failing.
“Speak,” I demand, changing my tone to a friendlier one and hooking my arms around her waist. I sit on the edge of the bed so I’m not towering over her.
She sighs loudly, looking to the high ceiling for an answer. Her lip quivers with emotion as she struggles to tell me.
“Karlee from the paper wants a story… about you. And Asshole Tony from the diner wants me back at work pronto. He’s pissed I never showed up today, even though someone else was glad to cover my shifts.”
I’m all ears. Waiting for the bad news or the part of her story that’s impossible to deal with.
The past few days? I have been distracted. But I’m used to dealing with life and death situations for a living. My own life too, not other people’s. So I’m a little perplexed by her ‘problems’.
“You don’t have to do any of that anymore,” I remind her. “What’s mine is yours, remember?” I tell her, lifting her chin a little so I can see those baby blues.