As I step out of the car, my heart pounds furiously. This is exactly the kind of moment where my brain would spin out of control, making up scenarios straight out of one of those novels I used to binge-read. Just the two of us… in a hotel… alone. The possibilities feel endless.
Why in the world am I having these thoughts?
"Just stop thinking about it already!" I scream at my subconscious.
"Thinking about what?" Mr Crane stops dead in his tracks and eyes me curiously.
Wait, did I just say that out loud?
"I apologize. I was er...talking to myself." I stammer.
"I see. You do seem like the type who talks to herself. I'm not surprised" He says matter-of-factly.
He leads the way through the glass doors of the hotel without looking back. The lobby is elegantly understated with marble floors, golden light fixtures, and a sense of calm luxury that contrasts with my racing thoughts. I try to keep up, but every step feels heavier, like I'm walking into some unspoken test I haven't studied for.
Clearly, Mr. Crane is used to this. He walks with that effortless confidence that's both fascinating and terrifying. I try to keep pace, trying not to stare too obviously at the gorgeous marble floors and the glittering chandelier hanging above us.
As we approach the front desk, the receptionist—a petite, polished brunette—immediately perks up. She greets us with a radiant smile, but her gaze lingers on Mr. Crane a bit too long, and her cheeks turn an unmistakable shade of pink. "Good afternoon, Mr. Crane," she says, her voice a little breathier than expected. "Your suite is ready, as always."
"As always." His voice is smooth and calm, and he gives her a faint, polite smile. "Thank you, Amanda."
She practically glows at the mention of her name, and I can't help but feel a strange pang of… something. Discomfort? Annoyance? What does it even matter? Still, it's hard to ignore how pleased she looks, blushing like a schoolgirl, and he barely even glanced at her. 'Does he have this effect on every woman? ' I wonder, suddenly very aware of how close he's standing to me.
The receptionist hands him the key card with a lingering smile, then glances at me, her polite expression instantly cooling by several degrees. Lovely. I give her a tight smile in return and focus my gaze on the marble floors.
But her reaction makes me wonder: has he brought others here before me? Former assistants or "secretaries," maybe? Is that why he'd been so insistent that I avoid speaking with employees so I wouldn't know anything?
The thought makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. This is dangerous territory I'm stepping into, and I know it. Still, the questions keep racing. Is this… a pattern of his? Bringing assistants to hotels, only to leave them tangled in his web of charm and mystery?
My heart is pounding harder now, and when I glance over at him, he's watching me with an amused look, almost as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. The thought of him knowing only makes me feel hotter under the collar, so I straighten up, trying to look as casual as possible.
"Are you all right, Miss Cole?" he asks coolly, raising an eyebrow as we head towards the elevator.
"Of course." I force a smile, though my mind is spinning with suspicions.
He presses the button, and we stand there in silence until the elevator arrives. When we step inside, I expect him to finally explain why he's brought me here, but he stays quiet. Instead, he leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching me with an expression I can't quite place. His gaze is calm, confident, and just the slightest bit… amused.
I clear my throat, clutching my purse tightly. "So… about this hotel. Do you come here often?"
I mentally slap myself. Why did I have to ask that?
His smirk deepens just a fraction. "You could say that," he replies, giving me a sideways glance. "It's convenient for private matters."
Private matters? My face flushes, and I quickly look away, feigning interest in the patterned carpet under our feet. Why does he have to be so vague? He's clearly enjoying watching me squirm.
The elevator stops, and the doors open to a private floor. He steps out first, waiting just long enough for me to follow before leading the way down the hallway. I feel a shiver run down my spine, every step making me more unsure of what to expect. All I know is that I feel like I'm being led straight into the lion's den.
Finally, we stop in front of a large suite at the end of the hall. He swipes the key card and pushes the door open, gesturing for me to enter. I hesitate for just a second, trying to compose myself, then step inside.
The suite is spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that reveal a stunning view of the city, just like his office...our office. I glance around at the plush furniture and sleek decor, my gaze landing on the ridiculously massive canopy bed with large wooden pillars which give the room a little traditional touch. It is slightly partitioned from the main area but still clearly visible. My heart races. Oh, this is definitely dangerous.
In a corner on the left, there is a wet bar with a variety of drinks. My eyes scan the bottles of expensive wine, vodka, tequila and champagne and I gulp.
He closes the door behind us and watches me as I take it all in. I can feel his gaze on me, steady and intense, as if he's assessing every thought running through my mind. Finally, I turn to face him, crossing my arms in an attempt to look composed. "So," I say, my voice sounding just a bit too high-pitched. "What exactly are we doing here?"
He tilts his head. "A bit eager, aren't we, Miss Cole?"
I swallow, resisting the urge to snap back. "Just curious."
He steps forward, closing the distance between us until he's standing just close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him. "Let's get one thing clear, Miss Cole," he says softly, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down my spine. "I would need you to be very confidential about anything that happens here today."
I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out. I'm too aware of how close he is, of how intense his gaze is, of how easy it would be to just… lean in.
Butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach and my legs turn to jelly.
But he steps back, breaking the spell as he reaches into his bag and pulls out a folder. He holds it out to me, all business again, as if he hasn't just made my pulse race in a matter of seconds. "We're here for work, Miss Cole," he says, his tone cool and detached. "I need these documents sorted and ready for a meeting. You'll be taking notes. Understood?"
I blink, caught completely off guard. Work?
"A meeting here in an hotel?" I look completely dazed.
"Yes. This isn't part of my schedule and no one is to know we are here. It's a private meeting so I needed a less open and more relaxed space."
My mind is spinning with questions.
"In this room?"
"Of course not. Don't be silly Miss Cole. This is just a place for me to relax and unwind till they get here. We'll hold it in the conference room."
Things are still not adding up.
"But back in the car, you said we were going to do something unconventional and you said it was going to be fun and..." The blush starts seeping into my cheeks again
"Yeah. Having a meeting at a hotel is quite unconventional, don't you think? And you are going to have fun by sorting all these files for me." A sly grin plays on his lips, his eyes flicking over me with just enough amusement to make me question if he's actually being serious or if he's enjoying watching me squirm.
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. This has to be some twisted kind of joke. He's brought me all the way to a hotel, teased me with his cryptic hints, and now he expects me to just...sort paperwork?
"Something wrong, Miss Cole?" His voice is as smooth as ever, but I don't miss the challenge in his gaze. He wants me flustered, tripping over my words.
I shift my gaze to the folder in my hand, trying to compose myself. "No, nothing at all," I reply, though I can feel the warmth in my cheeks betraying me.
He takes a seat on the couch, stretching out as if he owns not just the room but the very air around us. His tone shifts from cool to curt, as if he's switched back into full-on CEO mode. "Good. Now, sort these contracts by date, the most recent ones first, then move to the ones from last month. Anything earlier than that should be tossed in the shredder. I don't have time to waste, Miss Cole. You have to be fast before they get here."
How does he switch up so fast?
For a second, I watch him, half-expecting him to break character and smirk, but he's really serious. Utterly composed and unbothered by the tension he's effortlessly stirred. I draw in a breath and flip open the folder, focusing on the first contract in the stack. It takes everything in me to shake off the lingering thoughts swirling in my head and focus on the task he's set.
Still, as I sort through the documents, questions keep cropping up. A private meeting… at a hotel? And he'd said it so casually, as if this is something he does all the time.
I glance up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smirk as he watches me over his phone screen. What are you up to, Nolan Crane?
*
Some minutes after I'm done, he stands up, glancing down at his phone with a furrowed brow. "They've arrived. Give me the files." He reaches for the files I've meticulously organized and gives me a brief nod. "Stay here. I'll be gone for a while. You can walk around the lobby, if you like. "
Before I can even reply, he's walking toward the door, with that air of authority that leaves no room for discussion. The door clicks shut behind him, and I'm left in suite, listening to the muffled voices fading down the hall.
I let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the strange mix of relief and… well, something else. Finally. Alone. I glance around the suite, taking in the high ceilings, the luxurious rug beneath my feet, and the ornate furniture.
My gaze lands on the massive platform bed with its thick, soft-looking comforter and sprawling pillows.
I mean… I think, giving it an assessing look, it wouldn't hurt to just sit on it, right?
After all, it's been a long day, and my feet are aching. I cautiously lower myself onto the edge, testing the mattress. But the instant I sink into it, a wave of comfort washes over me, and before I know it, I'm sprawled out, one arm over my eyes, savoring the luxurious softness. I could just close my eyes for a second…
But then the voice in the back of my mind pipes up, What if he comes back and catches you napping? I bolt upright, wide-eyed, and scan the door as if he's about to barge in at any second.
Then again… he did say he'd be gone for a while.
With a quiet, guilty sigh, I lie back again, this time settling fully against the plush pillows. Just five minutes, I tell myself, letting out a contented hum as I snuggle deeper into the bed. Maybe ten… fifteen, max.
My mind drifts, lulled by the comfort of the room and the warmth of the covers. In the back of my mind, I wonder how many people have shared this bed, maybe with him. I imagine the hotel staff gossiping about it, that knowing smile from the receptionist flashing in my memory.
I turn over, pressing my face into the pillow to banish the thought. This is so stupid. It's just a bed.
My thoughts blur into a soft haze, Nolan's teasing smirk and the softness of the bed merging into one peaceful and cozy dream.
And just like that, I'm fast asleep.