I’m just finishing up checking in a gag-tastically in love newlywed couple when I see her. If I’d been paying attention to the clock, I could have prepared myself but it’s too late for that now. Actually, I should have expected it because it’s ten a.m. and she’s right on time for her shift. Cindy’s perfectly straight blonde hair is the first thing that catches my eye. She walks towards the employee lounge looking like she’s floating on a damn cloud, her subtle makeup highlighting those razor-sharp cheekbones and rosy pink lips. Even in the hotel uniform, the pretty blonde looks like sex in heels, and I curse myself. After all, I look like I was run over by my boyfriend and his slutty side piece, and I guess I was.
Suddenly, I can feel the tears I’ve been forcing down all day creeping to the surface. I dig my nails into the countertop and take long, slow, deep breaths, willing the tears to dry up. I won’t let Cindy see me cry. I won’t. Luckily, my emotions calm and I manage to put a smile on my face. Then, as soon as Cindy takes her place at the other receptionist station, I put up my away sign and walk off for a ten-minute break.
Quickly, I open the door in back of us and enter the employee lounge. It’s a comfortable room with two suede couches facing each other, and a beautiful kitchen table sits at the other end, along with a dining table and a water cooler. But I don’t stop here. Too many people come in and out of this room and I can’t let anyone see me cry. Instead, I dart out the back door into one of the hotel’s hidden hallways. As with every hotel, guests only see what’s put in front of them. However, there’s an entire maze of service areas out of view, and this hallway is one of them. It’s dimly lit, with plain beige walls and a concrete floor.
I quickly walk down the hall, turning left, right, and left again. I keep walking until I’ve reached a section that’s rarely used. Then, all of the anger I’ve kept bottled up for the last three hours slams into me, and with it I lose my hold on the facade I’ve worn all morning. A small sob escapes my throat and I quickly cover my mouth, but there’s nothing I can do to stop the tears, or the way my shoulders won’t stop shaking as the weight I’ve held back all day breaks me down. I sob like a madman, standing against the wall in a lonely hallway.
The ugly crying has reached a pinnacle, and I’m probably screaming down the walls at this point when suddenly, a large hand lands on my shoulder and I jump. My heart starts racing and my face floods with heat as soon as I lay eyes on the man belonging to the hand because I know who it is immediately. After all, this man is gorgeous. I’m staring into bright blue eyes with slight crinkles at the edges. He’s got strong features with a mobile mouth and jet black hair that’s combed back, although it’s slightly tousled at the moment. He was probably with a woman in these back halls because Bruce Wilshire is that kind of playboy. Despite being a high level exec, he’s known for loving and leaving all sorts of beautiful and desirable ladies. But I shouldn’t be interested in his bedroom activities. Instead, I should fear for my job because he’s Bruce Wilshire of the Wilshires who own this hotel, and my job rests squarely in his hands.
Shit!
But the handsome man is reassuring. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?” He brings his hands up and cups my face, gently wiping my tears away with the pads of his thumbs.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” I drop my eyes, completely mortified. “I must look like a wreck. I think I cried off all my makeup.”
He lifts my face with a hand under my chin and smiles when I meet his eyes. “You don’t look a wreck. Quite the opposite. You look a little tear-stained yes, but nowhere near a wreck.”
My heart flutters in my chest and I know now why the ladies love Mr. Wilshire. It’s because he’s got a silver tongue and a charming way about him that makes my knees weak. Then, he says something so weird that my I stare in shock.
“This might sound awkward since I’m practically a stranger, but would you like a hug, sweetheart?” he asks. My jaw drops but I can’t remember how to form words as Bruce chuckles. He rakes his hand through his hair, almost like he’s nervous, but that’s just ridiculous because this man has nothing to be nervous about around me. He shrugs and throws me that mischievous look again. “When I used to get upset as a kid my mother would hug me and it always comforted me. But I get it. This is a workplace, and I don’t want to hug you if you’re against it.”