“Why would I be askin’ about him?” he asks.
“You wouldn’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. There’s absolutely no reason you’d ask about him or any reason I’d be thinking about him. Which I’m not.”
George doesn’t look convinced, much like Mary this morning. I must be losing my touch. I used to be able to convince them of anything.
“I’m most certainly not thinking about Maverick,” I reiterate.
“Sure, honey. I believe ya,” George replies just as a deep voice asks, “Did I hear my name being mentioned?”
Kill me. Just kill me now.
I watch as Maverick walks down the stairs, graceful as a model down a catwalk. His easy stride is confident, yet not arrogant. He seems like someone who is completely comfortable in his own skin. I envy that quality, seeing as though I’m in a constant state of unbalance these days, always adjusting my course to keep from crashing into something and sinking the boat, so to speak.
I feel a pinch on my arm and turn around to find George giving me a covert “thumbs up” before nodding his head in Maverick’s direction. Narrowing my eyes at him, I mouth the word “stop” then turn to face the dreamboat heading my way.
“Hello, Mr. Kensington. How are you today?” Hopefully, if I ignore his question, he’ll forget he asked it.
The gorgeous bastard smirks at me and I know he’s onto my plan. But still, he plays along, thankfully.
“Please call me Maverick. My father is Mr. Kensington, and I’d rather not be mistaken for him at the moment.”
He must notice the slight intrigue on my face because he adds, “I’m sure he’d tell you the same thing about me if you were to ask.”
Interesting.
There’s a strange vibe in the room and I don’t like it. It makes me feel uncomfortable and when I feel uncomfortable, I do and say stupid things, and I vowed not to do or say stupid things in front of Maverick today, so I need to think of a way to clear the air immediately.
“So, how long are you in town for, Mr. Maverick?” George asks in his own usual lilt that always seems to set people at ease, saving us all with his question.
I blow out an inconspicuous breath and let my shoulders relax while turning my attention to the computer screen in front of me. I desperately want to know more about Maverick, but I don’t want him to know that I want to know, so I’m trying to appear uninterested. Plus, I need to pull up the hotel’s training software for when Jules comes in, which should be any minute now.
Maverick leans against the tall desk George and I are standing behind and geez Louise, he smells so good. I wouldn’t even know how to describe what I’m smelling but it’s enough to make my mouth water—woodsy, clean, manly. It’s a heady combination and I’m struggling to keep my expression neutral. Inwardly, my eyes are practically rolling into the back of my head as I inconspicuously drink him in.
“Not really sure.” He answers George, but I feel his heavy gaze on me. Normally, the attention would make me blush ten shades of red, but since I have the ruse of the computer to keep me occupied, I’m rather enjoying it. “I guess you could say I’m on vacation until further notice. Would you like for me to pay for my stay up front? I can pay a week at a time until I know for certain how long I’ll be here.”
“I told you, if you’re serious about your offer to help with these computers, you’re staying for free. And I hope you were serious because it looks like I need your help.” I push away from the desk and cross my arms. “It’s on the fritz again. It was working just fine this morning, but now I can’t access the program I need. I have someone coming in for training today, so I really need it to work.”
“Do you mind if I step back there and take a look?”
“Be my guest.” I still myself, trying to come off business-like and unaffected. “I’ll check the computer in the office, too.” As I walk past George, he gives me a wicked smile, which I ignore. Walking over to the computer stationed on my grandfather’s old oak desk, I give the mouse a wiggle, and nothing. Everything on the screen is frozen. “This one’s dead, too,” I call out before slumping in my chair, muttering expletives under my breath.
Maverick knocks on the door frame before sticking his head inside the office.
“Come on in,” I tell him, feeling dejected and nearly at my wits end. Nothing freaking works around here anymore and I feel like simultaneously pulling my hair out and crying in the corner, not because it would fix anything, but because it would make me feel better. For like five minutes.
“You okay?” he asks, walking inside the room.
“I don’t even know anymore,” I admit, my frustration getting the better of me. “It’s just always something, you know?”
I watch as he pushes a chair next to mine, then motions toward the computer. “May I?” I nod my approval and scoot back a bit to give him some space to work. He brushes my arm as he slides in closer to the screen, and once again I’m sniffing him like a can of paint. A hint of oak mixed with honey and vanilla hits me hard, reminding me of another man who used to sit in this very chair. Strong, but sweet. My grandpa always smelled like that, often mixed with a little tobacco, not like cigarette smoke, but a delicious cherry scent. He used to love lighting up his pipe in the evenings and sipping a glass of whiskey. The combination would lull me into a comatose state as I’d sit beside him.
The memory makes me smile and without thinking, I take another deep breath and let out a small sigh. When I see Maverick biting down on his bottom lip to suppress a grin, I know he’s onto me, but for some reason, I don’t care.
I can always plead stress-induced insanity, right?
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, taking advantage of the shift in atmosphere. There’s something I’ve been curious about ever since he checked in last night. Call it marketing research.
“Sure.” He’s typing and clicking away on the computer, in some black screen I’ve never seen before, but still glances my way, smiling. Always smiling.
Stupid, perfect teeth. The nerve of this guy.
“What brought you here? To this hotel, I mean.”
He sits back in his chair, looking deep in thought. “I’m not sure, to be honest,” he says thoughtfully, giving me another smile, that’s different from the others I’ve received so far. This one is smaller, with a hint of sadness... “Yesterday was a rough one and I needed to leave, get away for a while. I didn’t even know where I was going until I bought my plane ticket. But I’ve been down here many times, so out of habit I went to the hotel I always stay at. The driver dropped me off, I entered the lobby and was immediately recognized and greeted by the manager.” He sighs, thinking for a second before continuing. “As soon as he asked about my father, I turned for the door and didn’t look back. Seeing as how I’m trying to get away for a few days, the last thing I wanted was for him to track me down there. Instead of calling for another Uber, I just started walking and eventually made my way here. When I saw the sign that read Blue Bayou and yet, nothing here is blue, I was intrigued. I mean, not even the front door? It made me curious, so I walked inside and well, you know what happened next.”