The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair, #1)

Dominic

Presley leans in as she speaks, her eyes sparkling along with the candlelight and crystal of the dimly lit restaurant. She’s telling Roger all about the ballet programs in the city.

For the very first time, I’m the speechless one. Usually, my escort keeps her words to a minimum, sprinkling in the occasional nod and laugh. But Presley has me beat for Roger’s attention.

“Really, I think Julie would love it. Especially if she’s inclined toward dance,” she says, placing an encouraging hand on the table between them.

“She is definitely chock-full of energy, that kid.” Roger’s granddaughter is five, and his wife keeps her after school on weekdays. From what he’s told us, she’s a little terror. Rampaging around the house, breaking things both accidentally and on purpose. “Meanwhile, I find myself running lower and lower on energy every day.”

He raises his glass to us. “Not that you younger people can relate. You don’t have to worry about kids for years,” he says with a wistful sigh.

I snort, to which both Presley and Roger turn.

“Thank God,” I say, covering smoothly, and I tip my glass toward his. We clink our drinks together, and I can see Presley eyeing me inquisitively over her wine.

“To preserving energy,” I say.

“To ballet,” Presley responds, and Roger laughs heartily. If I haven’t won him over, my date certainly has. And how could she not? She’s gorgeous, smart, funny . . .

My intern turned escort.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I mentally chastise myself. I’m not dating Presley. Don’t get too comfy with this, Dom.

It’s easy to talk to her, easy to work with her. She’s young and bright and beautiful, but that doesn’t mean I get to picture how her pouty mouth would look taking my cock, or get myself all jacked up on her pheromones—no matter how good she smells, or how warm she is sitting beside me.

I’ve seen interest flickering in her gaze when our eyes meet, but still, Oliver is right. I can’t fuck her. Which really puts a damper on tonight.

I lean in and try to compose myself. “Roger, tell me. What’s your opinion on a financial partnership with us?” Okay, so this was a little more straightforward of an approach than Ollie would have suggested, but I’m rolling with it.

“You’ll have to tell me more.” He leans back against the tufted booth. “What kind of partnership are you thinking?”

“You’ve been a longtime client of Aspen. And you’re a consistent customer at my hotel, in particular, and a pleasure to do business with. Your last company-wide reservation put us right in the margins that we needed to be in. It’s been incredibly profitable for us, and we want to return the favor.”

“I’m listening.”

“If Roger Harwood, LLC invests in a small share of Aspen Hotels, we can assure you an even better deal than what you’re getting.”

“Your father told me I was already getting the best deal there was.” Roger swirls the ruby-colored wine in his glass.

“That may have been true at the time. But I’m not quite as shortsighted as my father,” I say with a smile. “Dad had goals but didn’t execute them outside of his comfort zone.”

“What kind of goals are you talking about?”

“International goals,” I say, and he sits up a little straighter. “I know you have a lot of business out of the country, and I can assure you that once our international locations are funded, all Harwood employees can enjoy the benefits of being friends of Aspen Hotels.”

As I lay out the details of the deal, I can feel Presley’s gaze on me. For the first time during the dinner, she’s completely still, her eyes locked on my face, watching my lips.

Fuck, that’s distracting. What is she thinking about?

“Presley, what do you think?” Roger asks, turning to her.

She returns his gaze and smiles warmly. “I think it’s a fucking good deal,” she says, then glances at me as if to ask, Too much?

I can’t help the smile spreading across my lips, and I chuckle.

Roger outright erupts into laughter. “A fucking good deal!”

“Let me try that again.” Presley grins, her eyes bright. She places her hands on the table in front of her, and proceeds to blow us away with her knowledge of Aspen Hotels and how Roger could benefit from this deal.

Grinning, Roger leans forward. “Where did you find her?” he asks me.

Swallowing, I meet Presley’s eyes, and have to mentally compose myself, because fuck. I’ve never been this turned on in my life and she’s nowhere near my dick. Not to mention she’s still fully clothed.

Roger reaches over the table and we shake hands warmly, exchanging promises of setting up a formal meeting soon to double-check logistics and nail down the details. I’m confident that we can satisfy this man’s goals while exceeding our own financial plans.

Dinner is long done and our glasses are empty. It’s time to wrap things up. As we get up to leave, Roger extends a hand to Presley, who accepts with a firm shake.

“Thank you, Presley, for sharing your evening with me,” he says with genuine kindness in his voice.

Presley smiles warmly. “Anytime, Roger. I’ll be around.”

Her statement is curious. Is she trying to make him think we’re dating? I didn’t exactly dissuade him from the idea. What other logical conclusion could he have drawn?